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Buddy, your housekeeper says you haven’t been home? You still in Oaxaca or whatever the fuck it's called?
I text back.
Ocotillo Valley. But close.
The three dots appear almost immediately.
Shit. Get back here. Rehearsals start in a few days.
I smirk.
Yeah, about that…
I don’t say anything more. Mickey texts back.
What’s going on, R? You want to give me a heart attack?????????
More dots. I put my phone away before I can read his response.
I’ll go back when I’m good and ready. I’ve got business here, first and foremost.
Black Flame can’t do anything without their leading man, after all.
Isabella and I walk through the department store, headed for the food court at my behest. Begged her for a soft pretzel like she was my mom and not my…
Baby mama? God, no.
Ex? Former lover? Eh.
Something? My something.
She is my something. I’ll take it.
Isabella carries three bags with options of suits. I have offered to grab them several times, but she goes, “I got it, I got it,” every time.
I look like a jerk walking with her and not carrying any bags.
I shove my hands in my pockets as we walk, trying to ignore the sidelong glances of passing customers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the illuminating reflections of the jewelry counter.
I smile to myself.
“Hey, I wanna look at something,” I say, and peel away from Isabella before she can stop me.
The woman behind the jewelry counter stands at attention when she sees me, her cherry lips curving into a placid smile that falters only a bit when she sees I’m not a hypothetically single gentleman.
“You need jewelry?” Isabella asks. “You better not be screwing with my plan by insisting you need to wear some silly –”
“Excuse me, I’m looking for matching wedding bands,” I say to the woman behind the counter.
“What?!” Isabella squeaks.
“Congratulations. When’s the wedding?”
I lean on the glass. “Oh, we’ve been married. Right, babe?”
Isabella is a deer in the headlights for a moment, before she nods heartily.
