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But I already know this isn’t mere infatuation.
This is something more. Something so much more.
What if he’s not feeling anything, though? What if Donny’s wrong, and I’m not Brock’s soft spot? Even if I am, what does that even mean? A soft spot doesn’t mean love.
“You want to get some lunch?” Callie asks.
“Is it still your lunch hour?”
“I’ve got a few more minutes. I can just check with Donny.”
“He’s not going to mind.”
“I know.” Callie smiles dreamily as she sends a quick text. “Normally I don’t use my relationship with Donny to get extra time for my lunch hour, but today, I think you need me.”
I smile. “Thanks, Cal.”
Her phone rings with the text.
“He’s good with it. Where would you like to eat?”
“Wherever.”
“Come on, Ror. We’re going to get through this. I promise.”
Callie is certainly upbeat today. As I look at her, I wonder why she ever thought of herself as an ugly duckling. Does it truly go back to Pat Lamone’s words all those years ago? Just another reason to hate the bastard. My sister is beautiful. Not just beautiful but radiant. Her hair is a shade lighter than mine, and her eyes a golden amber compared to my brown. She has a lovely figure, and she can wear button-down blouses.
She’s gorgeous, and I’m so glad she found a man who sees that and appreciates it.
“Since you don’t care,” she says. “Let’s go over to Lorenzo’s. I feel like a meatball sub.”
I nod and walk with my sister the few blocks to the Italian place. Once there, we get a table, and our server approaches us.
“Well, hi there,” she says, sounding bubbly.
Oh, God. It’s Sadie… Sadie… I can’t remember her last name. Sadie who was all over Brock with her black hair, blue eyes, and flat chest the other night at Murphy’s. She’s still flat-chested, but I’d be lying if I said she didn’t look pretty in her checkered waitress dress. Damn her, anyway.
“Hi,” Callie says.
“Remember me? We met at Murphy’s. Sadie McCall?”
McCall. That’s it. Sadie McCall.
“Of course,” Callie says in that dry way of hers. “How are you?”
“I’m just dandy,” Sadie says. “Could you refresh me with your names again?”
“Sure.” This time I speak. “I’m Rory Pike, and this is my sister, Callie.”
“Of course. Pardon me for not remembering. I’ve met so many people in such a short time since I’ve been here.”
Right. I’d be willing to bet she remembers Brock’s name. This is a small town. Really, how many people could she have met in such a short time?
Plus, in small towns, people usually remember each other’s names. But she’s new. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Okay, I won’t give her the benefit of the doubt, but I’ll pretend like I am.
“Not a problem, Susie,” I can’t help saying.
“It’s Sadie.” She shows her dimples as she points to the name tag on her lapel.
