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I sit up straighter. “Oh yeah?”
“Gerald!”
“No, don’t get Dad on the phone. I have to—”
“Hello?”
Ugh. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Honey, tell Fable how you saw her boss inThe Reporter. Had some blonde on his arm at a charity function.”
“Oh, yes, she was somethin’.”
“Maybe it was a client.”
“They sure looked cozy.”
My nails dig into the receiver, and I rotate my chair to my computer, slamming on my keyboard. Sure enough, there they are last night at the Builder’s Association charity function. A blonde, perfect, nothing-like-me bombshell is smiling and clutching his arm. Why did I think he was flirting with me when he had someone likethat? Pulling that little stunt in his office this morning. . . he wasn’t mad because he was turned on. He was turnedoff!
I squeeze my eyes shut, mortified. “Okay, well, I really have to go.”
“You sure you don’t need help moving into your apartment tonight? We’re really going to miss you around here.”
I’m sure they are. “Nope. I have it covered. Mindy’s using a friend’s truck to help bring my stuff over.”
“Speaking of the move,” my mom chimes in. “You know, Mrs. Weller’s grandson just moved home. He’s a handsome fellow and works at a bank.”
Make it stop. “That’s great, Mom.”
“You should meet him. He’s got great genes and a great job. I bet you two would make great babies.”
“Geez, Mom! I’ve never even met the guy, and you’re already talking about what our kids would look like?”
“Well, I’m not getting any younger. And neither are you. Did you ever look at that dating app I sent you?”
I’m about to stab my eyes out with my letter opener. “Yes, but I don’t live in the country. And I’m not into farmers.” Not that there’s anything wrong with them. I just finished a steamy cowboy romance and would definitely not turn down a ride.
“Oh, is that what it was? I just noticed the handsome man in the email. Thought you two would make a nice fit.”
“Mom, that’s just an ad. He’s not the one I would go out with. Listen, I have to—”
“Remember our old neighbor Mrs. Davis? Her daughter just got engaged. She’s twenty—”
And time’s up. I pull the plug when my mother starts bringing up everyone she knows who’s ever gotten engaged. “Okay. Sorry, guys. This has been great, but I gotta go.” I hang up before she can slip in another insult and discard the rest of my tasty treat. My mom should win an award for being a mood and appetite killer.
It’s the same thing every time she brings up the subject. When are you going to find a nice man and get married? When are you having kids? As if getting this job and torturing myself to please her isn’t good enough for them. They sure weren’t complaining about my cooking skills when I whipped up gourmet meals three times a week.
And for the record, it’s not that I don’twanta boyfriend or to get married and have kids one day. I just haven’t had the opportunity yet.
I try to remember the last time I had a boyfriend.That one guy in culinary school?I’m not even sure I can consider that dating. I mean, we slept together. A lot. But dating? Shit, whenwasthe last time I really had a boyfriend? If I have to go back to the fifth grade when Grayson Powers asked me out on the monkey bars. . . I shake my head. Maybe dating isn’t for me.
Is it me? AmIundatable?
Theo’s door opens, and I straighten in my seat as he approaches my desk. “Miss Evans.”
“Mr. Monroe.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize for my behavior this morning.
