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It was still early in the afternoon, and I said as much.
He responded quickly with a link to a destination. When I opened it, it showed me a park, not a restaurant, and it wasn’t even downtown.
“Where’s that?” I texted back.
“Do you need the address?”
I rolled my eyes at his sarcastic tone but smiled anyway. “Of course I do. Or should I just show the picture to the Uber driver? Why don’t you pick me up? You do have a car, don’t you?”
“I have a truck, actually.”
“Shouldn’t you be working anyway?”
“I had other stuff to do today.”
“That’s suspiciously vague. Other stuff like what?”
“Hm...” He seemed to ponder the question. “If I tell you, will you help me bury the body?”
I giggled. “I don’t think we’re those kinds of friends.”
“Oh?” The sound sent a chill through my body, and my heart thrummed with the wicked image flickering in my mind. This had happened when he first called yesterday before he broke out talking about Darlene, and I forced away the thought before I said something dumb. “What kind of friends are we?”
“Well, let’s find out.”
“Thank you for yesterday.”
“Of course.”
“I forgot to ask how your meeting went.”
My heart fell into my stomach, and the flirtatious mood with it. I looked at the thin carpet and sighed. “I didn’t get a call today, so I’m assuming that means I didn’t get the job.”
“What happened?”
I told him about Andrew and how odd the interview was in general. When I brought up dinner and how odd he acted toward the end, Ryan cursed softly through the phone but let me finish before he spoke.
“I can’t remember all the details, but I didn’t think I was leading him on. Maybe I was?”
“It doesn’t matter whether you were or not. Did you kick his ass?”
The weight that had pressed hard on my shoulders fell away with his words, and an airy laugh escaped on a breath. “No. But I dumped a drink on him.”
“Good. You can dump a drink on me if I ever act like an asshole.”
I smiled. “I already did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you did. Is that your signature move?”
I shrugged. “It’s usually the closest thing to me.”
“So are you okay?”
After I fell back onto the comforter, I scanned the popcorn ceiling in search of my response. “Yeah. I think I just need to stay away from rich assholes who think they can do whatever they want.”
“Does that mean no dinner with me?” he mused.
My eyes darted to the phone, and I smirked. Was he rich? I couldn’t tell whether it was rude to ask or if he’d care. I sure didn’t want him to think he had to hide it if he was.
