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“Okay, farm boy, other end of the bar. My sister and her sweet drink aren’t for you.”
Dude-in-boots lets out a huff. “What a pair of bitches.” He pushes away from the bar and heads out to the tables.
I look up at Tillie. “Dodged a bullet.”
“I could’ve told you that. I can read ’em from across a crowded bar. Total asshole material.”
“I sure didn’t see it.”
She shrugs. “Comes with the job.” She leans down. “What did Drew say?”
“I asked him about his receptionist.” I angle the phone toward her. “He only answered the question. The temp agency didn’t get back to him Friday, so he’ll have to manage Monday without one.”
“Hmm.” She spots another person down the bar. “Hold that thought.”
I stare at Drew’s words. I don’t know where I can go from here.
Maybe an apology?
I sip my drink. I tap out the words.
Me:Sorry I asked about your dating last time we talked. Not my business.
I chew on my straw while I wait for him to respond. He won’t ignore that. Drew might grunt like a caveman. But he’ll recognize someone’s making an effort.
Drew:I figure as far as things got last weekend, I probably owe you something.
My stomach settles. Maybe things will be all right.
Me:So will a temp do for your job?
Drew:Not really. But at least the phones will be answered.
This is easy. Talking about work is nice neutral territory.
Me:How many employees do you have?
He must not be busy tonight or he wouldn’t be texting me so quickly.
Drew:Three full-time techs. One part-time. Plus the front desk.
Me:That’s a lot.
Drew:The receptionist is key to the flow of the office.
Me:Will you be able to manage Monday?
Drew:No choice.
Tillie drifts back down the bar. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Work talk.”
She’s about to head away when I stop her. “Tillie? When were you going to go see Lila next?”
She shrugs. “Hadn’t thought about it. Maybe not until I move at the end of the month.”
“When is your next day off?”
