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“What is it?”
“Can you call down to Ava and make sure we are still on for lunch today?”
“Is that all?”
I give her a small nod and she leaves the room, while I deal with a customer that Ava had a hard time with last night. I’m assuming that’s why she left so late. She left a note with the email that the customer had about a million questions and that she referred her over to me, so it should be simple enough.
Selena beeps through the intercom and lets me know that Ava will meet me in the lobby for lunch, and that’s enough to lift my mood for the time being. The only thing left to do is convince Ava to keep this ruse going or I’ll be hearing a lot of shit from my dad that I don’t need right now.
* * *
A of couple hours later and I’m starting to realize why Ava sent the customer over to me because, after all this time, she’s still claiming there is an issue but won’t go into detail about what that is. Any question that I have, she has a question of her own, and eventually, I transfer her over to my dad.
We have random customers every now and then that will try everything to get new equipment for free, because that’s what we do. If a customer has any major issues with their purchase, we send them a new one for free in hopes that they will give us an honest review. It’s rare that someone tries to rip us off like that, but if I have my suspicions, I usually have my dad take over with them.
“Sir, you have someone here to see you,” Selena says from the intercom. “Malcolm Pierce?”
I hold the speaker button in and say, “Send him in.”
Malcolm is an old friend of mine. We haven’t been quite as close though since he went to Nashville and became a famous country star. Every time he’s in the city, he makes it a point to come by with backstage passes for me and to catch up. The door opens before he walks in sporting his usual jeans, flannel, and a cowboy hat perched on top of his head.
“Long time, no see, man,” he greets me.
“How’s the road?” I ask from my desk.
He shakes his head before nodding toward the surface of my desk, his gaze pointed firmly at the newspaper sitting front-side up. “Nope, this is all about you. Me later.”
“There’s not much to tell,” I say with a shrug, hoping that he’ll take my half-truth and run with it. Unfortunately for me, Malcolm can see right through me and leans casually back in his seat with his arms crossed.
He knows I hate the silence. If you aren’t going to sit here and talk, why be here at all? Which is exactly why he’s aiming to put the pressure on me until I burst open with the truth. I hold his stare, trying my damndest not to back down from him this time, but the moment he leans his head back and closes his eyes, I cave.
“I’m not sure what to say, man. It was the spur of the moment, but it was quite literally the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. They just happened to snap a picture of it.”
“Who is she?”
I chuckle. “That’s the kicker… she’s Alex’s ex from some small town in Tennessee.”
“Damn. I take it that didn’t go over well?”
“Hell no. I didn’t even know it was his ex at first, but the damage was already done.”
He leans forward, fully invested in the story now, and asks, “What do you mean?”
“She was uncomfortable, so I acted like she was my girlfriend. After our first kiss, he mentioned her name and that was it.”
His whistle is low and he smacks his knee with a laugh. It doesn’t surprise me that he finds the situation amusing, him and Alex were never the best of friends. Only dealt with each other for the sake of our friendship. If I had known the way this industry would change Alex, I probably would’ve been on the same page as Malcolm back in high school.
“What’s the plan now?”
I check the clock and rise from my chair. “I’ll let you know in about an hour, she’s meeting me for lunch.”
“Sure, man. You know what’s waiting for you at the show this weekend. Maybe you can try to bring her with you?”
We hug it out, with a promise from me that if everything goes okay, we will be at the show, before I follow him from the office and into the elevators. Ava’s back is turned as she talks to security when we reach the lobby floor, giving Malcolm the time he needs to slip out undetected. I step into the space beside her, causing her to jump away from me.
“Excuse you,” she says to me before giving the security guard a bright smile and walking ahead of me. Her steps falter when she catches sight of my truck in front of the building, but she gains her composure and opens the passenger door.
It takes about twenty minutes before we reach the new Italian place on 24th Street. There’s a crowd of people waiting outside the doors, but luckily for us, I made a call last night before I went to bed and reserved a table. It doesn’t take more than a minute for the hostess to guide us to our table in the middle of the dimly lit room.
