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I laugh. “You’re not a basic bitch. This is one of the happiest, most life-changing events in your life. You’d better be crying.”
She shakes her head. “Tomorrow is all about me. Let’s talk about you tonight. What’s new?”
My eyes roam around the restaurant. “Neil showed up at my house today.”
“What?”
“He was waiting outside his car when I got home from work. He was trying to convince me to sell the house.”
Simone grits her teeth. “He can’t do that. That’s harassment. What did you say?”
“I told him to go home, and while he was walking toward me, I backed away and tripped off the curb.” I hold up my scabbed elbow. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Did he put his hands on you?”
“No, no.” A slight smirk pulls at one corner of my mouth. “Grant did though.”
She gasps. “Grant was there?”
“He came out of nowhere. One second, I was on the ground, and the next thing I knew, he was dragging Neil back to his car.”
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, shit. I would’ve loved to have seen the look on Neil’s stupid face when Grant showed up.”
“I haven’t heard from him since.” I roll my eyes. “I know he’s not gone forever. Grant thinks I should file a restraining order against him.”
“I agree.”
“He won’t leave me alone until I sell the house.”
“Ifyou sell the house.” Simone reaches for her iced tea and takes a sip. “You don’t have to sell. Ever. You can die in that house and he can’t have anything to say about it. File the restraining order. I’ll go with you.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
“So, how’s everything between you and Grant?”
My cheeks burn, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling like a goof. “I…we…”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my god. What happened?”
“We may or may not have almost kissed today.”
She screeches. “You what? Tell me everything.”
As I tell her about the way Grant cared for me in the bathroom after the confrontation with Neil, my phone vibrates in my purse. I pull it out and click on the text from Grant.
Grant:I think someone misses you.
I enlargethe picture and tilt my head back as I laugh.
I turn the phone to face Simone. “Look how cute this dog is. He’s sitting in my chair at Grant’s kitchen table.”
“Yourchair, huh?”
I smirk. “It’s the chair I usually sit in when I’m at Grant’s house.”
“Which is every day…while he cooks you dinner.”
“He cooks for me because I’m tutoring his daughter, and I refuse to let him pay me.”
