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His misplaced glee collapses into a sneer. “How original. Like I haven’t heard that before.”
“Ah, lighten up. I’m just messing with you.” My palm thwacks the center of his scrawny chest.
Daniel winces and rubs at the inflicted spot. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”
“Sore subject,” I drawl. “Noted.”
Harper is scowling. She mouths something that looks an awful lot like,Behave.
Little does she realize that just encourages me.
“So, Pumper,” I begin the tedious task of engaging him in meaningless conversation.
“You can call me Daniel.”
“I’d rather not. We’re better off on a last-name basis. Mine is Evans, by the way. Thanks for asking.”
His mouth opens and shuts like a gasping fish out of water. “I thought I did…?”
Guilt tries to worm its way beneath my sullied layers, but the mud is just too damn tainted. “Don’t worry about it. All is forgiven. Now, as I was saying, how did you meet Harper?”
“Online,” Daniel responds.
“That’s… interesting.” Which is a far tamer word than I’d prefer to use. Mostly due to Harper dating in general.
“Then he stopped into Roosters over the weekend and we kinda hit it off. One of the rare moments you weren’t darkening a stool,” Harper supplies.
Which means I need to be more vigilant. “Didn’t realize you were in the market for a relationship.”
“If the right guy comes along,” she trails off after dropping that crumb.
Bile rises in my throat when Daniel winks at her.
“Hey, y’all.” A frazzled server slams to a halt at our mismatched dynamic.
It’s only then I realize we haven’t ordered. The menu remains untouched in front of me. My mind is on more important matters.
“I’m on a date with my daddy,” Sydney broadcasts in a loud announcement.
The entire restaurant erupts in a unified, “Awww.”
Even Harper’s eyes look a tad misty. She taps Syd on the nose, stealing my signature move. “Just the sweetest.”
My daughter cuddles against her. “You can be our date too.”
I almost offer her a high-five for leaving Dr. Pumper out of the equation.
“Good grief, my ovaries are exploding.” The server fans her face. “Anywho, sorry about the wait. There’s an eight top over there and each order is modified, plus you were sat at the same time. Not your problem. Apologies again. Feel free to holler if you need me between stops. Should we get these tables pushed together?”
“No,” Daniel blurts. “We’re separate.”
“Oh,” the server rears back. “My mistake. I figured you knew each other.”
“You don’t wanna sit with us?” Sydney’s bottom lip wobbles.
“It’s not that, but…” Apparently, Dr. Pumper can’t say the words that will break a little girl’s heart.
Maybe I should give him more credit. A snort rips from me at the audacity. Sometimes I crack myself up.
