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She looks down at her tangled hands. “I’m sorry.” Then she spares me a glance before she twists around and runs out the overhead door. I hear the roar of the engine start up, then she peels out of the parking lot.
What the hell just happened?
* * *
For the rest of the week, every time I call Olivia, it goes straight to voicemail. I go to her house and either her car isn’t there or she doesn’t answer her door. I was half tempted to kick it down, but I also don’t need her neighbors calling the cops on me. Plus, she has security cameras so if she’s inside she knows it’s me, she just doesn’t want to answer. When I stopped by her work, I was told she was out sick, which again I know is total bullshit. The last thing I need is to make a scene.
Instead, I went home. Now I’m sitting on my couch with my phone in hand, willing it to ring or buzz with a text message from her. Something else happened. There is no way she would just up and leave, especially saying so few words. But what else can I do? Jack rubs his head against my ankles, then turns around and does the same on the other leg. He jumps up on the couch and meows at me, his one eye boring into mine.
“I know buddy, I miss her too.” I run my hand over the top of his head. He pushes into me and purrs. Jack walks across my lap to the other side of the couch, looks up at me, and meows again before he does a circle and lays down where Olivia would normally sit. “You’re good company, but it’s not the same.” He rests his chin on my leg and I continue to pet him. It was never supposed to be like this. This is why I don’t get close to anyone. It fucks with you and throws your entire life into a tailspin. I’ve had too many of those in my life and I don’t need anymore. But with her it’s different. It feels different. She’s different.
TWENTY-NINE
THE GOLDEN TICKET
Ledger
It’s Saturday afternoon. I’m sitting on the couch with a beer in one hand, the remote in the other, and staring at a blank tv screen. I never thought this would be my life. That I would be the guy pining for a girl…again.
A knock on my front door pulls me from my sad and depressing thoughts. I contemplate if I should answer it or not. Truth be told, I’m not in the mood for any company, but then again, what if it’s Olivia. The knock sounds again, and I jump to my feet. My heavy footfalls thud on the floor as I rush to the front door. Twisting the knob, I throw it open. All excitement dies when Trey stares back at me.
“What are you doing here?” I frown.
“Saving your ass. Now can I come in?” I narrow my eyes at him, then my gaze drifts down to a bag draped over his forearm. When I don’t answer him, he continues. “It’s about Olivia.”
I step to the side, and he strolls in past me. He does a three-sixty, taking in my kitchen. It doesn’t have any state of the art appliance or high end counter tops but everything is functioning and serves a purpose.
“Wow. I’ve never been in your house.” He nods his head as he glances from one side of the room to the other, taking everything in. “This is nice.”
“If you came over here to tell me that, you can get the fuck out.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Actually, I didn’t. But I did come here with purpose. I know we’ve never been close, but Olivia means a lot to me and despite what she said, you mean a lot to her so…” He digs in his back pocket and pulls out a white envelope with gold foil trim, holding it out to me.
“What’s this?” I glance down at the paper.
“An invitation to my birthday party.”
My head shoots up as my eyebrows knit together.
He laughs and wiggles the envelope at me. “Just open it.”
I flip the envelope over and pull out the flap holding it closed. A light blue piece of paper with gold trim catches the light. Slowly, I pull the paper from the envelope, still unsure of what it could be. Wine on the Water fills the top of the page in a script font.
Again, my eyebrows crease. “This is the event Olivia’s mom is hosting.”
“It is. And Olivia is going to be there.”
At that, my ears perk up.
He taps the paper. “That’s your ticket in.”
“Wait. Aren’t these events like black tie or some shit? Because you won’t find any of that in my closet.”
“I got it covered.” He holds up the bag draped over his arm.
“We’re sharing clothes now?”
“You can be grateful for my help, or you can stay home and sulk while some other guy gets your girl.”
