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"Yeah, of course," he said cocking his head to the side and smiling. "What lady doesn't?" We walked down the corridor toward the elevator. "So…"
"Yes?"
"What happened to your date yesterday?"
"Very funny, Oliver. You know there was no date. I was going to download a dating app and see if I could meet someone, and well, I figured it was late when we got in and—"
"And then what?” he asked, interrupting me.
"Well, you wanted to watch a movie.”
"That movie was a solid five out of ten." He chuckled. "Good choice, Rosalie."
"Wow, thanks, Oliver. That really makes me feel good."
"What can I say? A rom-com with Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston. Hmm, not exactly my first choice."
"I heard you laughing a couple of times."
"Did you, though?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was I laughing with them, or was I laughing at them?"
"Oliver, you are such an idiot sometimes."
"Hmm. Am I? I wasn't an idiot when you were kissing me, though," he said.
My eyes widened. So the conversation was about to happen. The dinging of the elevator doors alerted us to the fact that the elevator was now on our floor. We walked in, and I was about to ask him what made him kiss me when an old lady hurried into the elevator with a little Russell terrier in her arms.
"Hello," she said in a creaky old voice. She looked at Oliver. "Oh, it's you."
"Hello, Mrs. Jewel."
"How do you know my name?" she asked quickly, frowning, her purple hair bobbing as she looked back and forth between Oliver and me.
"I've met you several times." His voice was polite.
"Oh yes." She blinked, and then she looked over at me disdainfully. "Another one, I see."
Oliver pressed his lips together, but I couldn't stop myself from asking.
"Another what? Sorry, I’m not sure what you’re talking about."
"You are another woman of the night that he has going to his apartment, and you're dressed in even less clothing than the last one was." There was disgust in her voice, and I tried not to react or say anything rude in response. She was my elder, after all.
"No, you misunderstand. I..." I licked my lips nervously as she glared at me.
"I mean, I know I'm of the older generation, but really, have some class." She looked at Oliver. "Why would you bring all these women back to your place? Really?" She looked at me. "And why would you demean yourself so much to date a man who has a woman every different week?"
"Sorry, what?" I frowned.
"He has a different woman every week," she repeated as if she hadn't just got the line wrong.
"Okay." I looked over at Oliver, and his eyes were laughing at me.
"Well, how are you doing, Mrs. Jewel?" he asked. "Did you—”
"Did I what?" she asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"I was just going to ask if you got that new TV set up. You were—"
