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Someone was buzzing my apartment. "I've got company, Mac. I'll talk to you later. And thanks. You're the best."
"I am! Call me when you get a chance."
I pushed the button to see who wanted to buzz in.
"It's Andrew. I was going to grab my jacket, if that's okay."
"Oh, sure."
I let him up and opened the door to find him with a bag from Mabel's in one hand and a tray with two drinks in the other.
"I hope you're hungry? The smell grabbed me when I was walking by, and since it's lunchtime..."
I was actually starving, but it seemed a little forward to me that Andrew showed up to get his jacket and brought lunch on the off-chance I hadn’t already eaten. Even my best friends texted or called before they showed up.
I thought of Blake and how he’d been after Andrew had shown up and taken me into town. But he was naturally suspicious.
I did have Andrew’s jacket, and it would be rude to turn him away. And hehadbought me lunch.
“Thanks,” I said, stepping aside so he could come in.
We sat at my kitchen table, unpacking the fresh burgers, veggie burgers for me, and fries. "Mmm," I said at the rich aroma. "I haven't had Mabel's in a while. I should have taken Blake there last time he was here."
"Couple of weeks ago, wasn't it?" Andrew asked, shoving a fry into his mouth.
"Yep. He noticed your jacket, and I realized I'd forgotten to say something while we were on the phone."
Andrew nodded, looking deep in thought. He didn’t seem to react in any sort of way to me mentioning Blake, which was a relief. Maybe he was just a thoughtful friend who came to get his jacket and brought me lunch.
"So, what's the word on the group that was arrested for threatening me and my Dad?"
"They were arraigned within a couple of days, all pled not guilty, but the judge opted to deny bail."
I knew if they'd gotten out on bail or some technicality, someone would have told me, at least, but I hadn't heard any details yet.
"I'm glad they didn't get out. Who knows what someone like that will do if they feel like they're already in deep trouble."
"Exactly."
The rest of our conversation focused on Dad and the level of security he needed, and what the likely sentences might be for the people who’d been arrested.
Right before I was about to clean up from lunch, Andrew took a sip and pulled his straw out a little, but the lid was only partly snapped on. As he pulled the lid off, he tried to grab it and prevent a mess, but his soda splashed over his chest.
"Oh, damn it," he said, standing quickly and trying to dab himself with napkins. "I should have known that would happen."
"Hang on, I'll get a towel." I rushed into the laundry room to grab a fresh one from the stack I'd folded that morning and had yet to put away. I gave him the towel, but the shirt was so wet in front, it didn’t help much.
“Leave it to me,” Andrew said with a smirk. “I’ve got to be back at the capitol in twenty minutes. I don’t even have time to run home for a fresh shirt.”
“You can borrow one of Blake’s, then. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, since you’re in a bind. I know the look you’d get if you showed up to see my father in a stained shirt.” Dad was a stickler for being prepared. He’d wonder why Andrew didn’t carry a clean suit of clothes with him for just this kind of thing.
“Thanks, Cal, that’d be great.”
I wasn’t entirely sure Blake would be thrilled about Andrew borrowing a shirt, but if he knew the circumstances, he’d probably offer the same thing.
Then I remembered what Blake had said, that he was sure I believed Andrew was just being friendly, but he wasn't sure Andrew believed that. It did seem kind of a cliche to spill something on your clothes and have to take them off to try to get a woman to look at your body, though, didn't it?
It was too cliche, in fact. It had been a simple accident. I loved Blake, but I tried hard not to be as suspicious as him. I gave Andrew one of his shirts. It’d be a little big on him, but not so much it would look sloppy.
