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“Me too,” Michael said.
“I… This is a busy weekend for me,” I replied.
“Oh,” August said.
Michael waved a hand. “Listen, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to do it again. Not a big deal. You can just say so, rather than make excuses.”
“No!” I blurted out louder than I intended. I peered out into the hall before continuing. “I promise I’m not making excuses. How about Monday night?”
August cursed. “I’m at a donor dinner on Monday. I won’t be home until late.” He pounded a fist on the table. “Stupid CFO job that pays way too much money.”
“That doesn’t meanwecan’t hang out,” Michael said casually. “Without you.”
August shrugged. “Do what you want. I don’t mind. We’re all just having casual fun, right? No jealousy here.”
“I’m open to that,” I said, “but what about Wednesday?”
Both of them looked at each other, then nodded.
“Wednesday it is, then,” Michael said with a smile.
“To watch anotherbad movie.” August winked twice.
This is going to be fun,I thought as we switched to a different subject.But my schedule is getting awfully busy.
33
Ginny
My car was parked right where August said it would be in the garage adjacent to the NMCF building. For some reason, it seemed cleaner than usual. It also had a full tank of gas, which was suspicious since I was positive I was on the bottom quarter of a tank when I drove to work yesterday.
I didn’t have August’s number, so I texted Michael.
Me: Do you have August’s cell phone number?
Michael: Wow. Asking me for some other guy’s number. In any other circumstance, I would take this as a bad sign.
Me: Good thing the “other guy” happens to be your best friend who helped you fuck me last night ;-)
Michael: That’s true.
Michael: August doesn’t have a cell phone.
Me: Hah.
Michael: I’m serious. He doesn’t believe in them.
Me: Doesn’t believe in them? Cell phones aren’t ghosts.
Michael: I’ve been having that argument with him for a long time. Ask him about it the next time you see him.
Doesn’t have a cell phone?In any other circumstance, that would have felt like a huge red flag. But with August, it was just another quirk on the pile.
That evening, Kai picked me up at my apartment. He was double-parked in front of the building, leaning against the car wearing slacks and a nice polo that accentuated his slender frame, and a pair of black sunglasses with blue lenses.
“You’re looking lovely this evening,” he said as a greeting.
“Not as nice as this car,” I said. “You drive a BMW?”
