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I did take a second to consider telling him everything.
Look, Remi, you’re going to have to get over it.
This thing with you and Riff? It’s gone on for far too long.
Move on.
Oh, by the way, he and I are fucking.
Remi came to the table with our food and drinks.
He sat down and looked me dead in the eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
“I know that look on your face, Fiona. Something is wrong. You’re in trouble.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I’m actually happy. Doing well.”
Remi wasn’t exactly buying it. “Are you here for work?”
“Something like that. I mean, truth be told, work isn’t all that great.”
“Every job has its ups and downs.”
“And yours?”
“Fiona.”
“Shit, Remi, don’t push at me.”
“Last time you were here, I was the one vulnerable,” Remi said.
“That’s right. And you got married… remember?”
“Details. But whatever.”
“Whatever is right,” I said.
I scooped up my barbecue chicken pizza, folded the slice in half, and began to eat.
Remi stared at me, shaking his head.
I chewed and swallowed. “What now?”
“You eat like a guy.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“Do you eat like that on dates?”
I laughed. “Dates? Me? Dating?”
“Are you going to try and tell your big brother you don’t date?” Remi asked.
Then it hit me… the perfect story…
“Fine, Remi. You want to know what’s going on in my life? I was dating someone. And he proposed to me.”
