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The phone rang, and I ignored it, even though I was sitting right next to it. Someone else could get it.
“Melanie, you have a call on line one. Melanie, you have a call on line one,” the PA speaker boomed, and I instantly regretted not getting the call when it came in. The PA was a million times worse and made me nearly jump out of my seat.
I picked up the phone and hit the button for line one before putting the ancient receiver to my ear, thinking that we really should invest in phones that couldn’t be used as set pieces in a period drama from the nineties.
“Melanie,” I said. “How can I help you?”
“Hey Mel,” Carmela’s voice said on the other end. “How are you doing?”
“Poorly,” I said. “Busy day, and I’m just not here for it.”
“Too excited about your date tonight?” Carmela teased.
“Har har,” I said. “It’s not a date.”
“Calm down,” Carmela said. “It was just a joke.”
She was laughing, apparently having a hard time keeping herself from cracking up, but I was having none of it. In fact, I was kind of fuming at the idea that she would even joke about it.
“Seriously,” I said. “It’s not a date. It’s not even funny to joke that it’s a date. He is a man who tried to take my family store away from me and now is refusing to make it right. I wouldn’t date him if he were the last man on earth.”
“Oh, come on,” Carmela said. “You know that’s not true. Not entirely. You’re just nervous.”
“Yeah. Nervous,” I said. “Nervous I might throw him through a window.”
“Have you seen his arms? Good luck throwing him through any windows,” she said.
She had a point. I had seen his arms. I had seen a lot of them. In fact, I could barely stop looking at them long enough to notice his barrel chest, his flat stomach, and his insanely cut jawline. He looked like he was about to put on a cape and parade around the city saving busloads of children.
“Yeah, well, I’ll figure it out if I have to,” I said.
“Just don’t do anything crazy,” Carmela said. “And call me tomorrow. I want details.”
“Of my non-date?”
“Of your non-date,” she confirmed. “Which most certainly could actually be a date.”
“It’s not.”
“But it could be.”
“But it’s not.”
“Bye, Melanie.”
“Bye, Carmela,” I said, hanging up the phone.
Sighing and leaning back in the chair, I closed my eyes again. I was still stewing, and I wondered why. Probably it was at least partially because Ididin fact find him incredibly attractive. And because aside from buying my store, he seemed really nice too.
“Mel?” Amy’s voice said as the door creaked open.
“Yeah?”
“They’re done emptying and sorting the truck,” she said.
“Oh good,” I replied.
“But we have another problem,” she continued.
