Maybe her date is later and that’s why she didn’t put it on the calendar. It is a Friday night, and when I was single, our plans didn’t even start until ten half the time. Except, she turned down Marisol for dinner, so that theory is out.
I rub my neck. I don’t like thinking about her on a date. I guess I never did, but it was easier to dismiss back when my attraction to her was only a slight inconvenience. All it meant was that I needed to keep my distance. This has not been a week of keeping my distance. Thanks to Rosalie’s enthusiasm, we’ve been writing letters back and forth every day. I’m putting more of myself into them than I should, but I won’t stop unless she does. I’ve been sitting here wondering what today’s will say and what impertinent questions she’ll ask.
I like being friends with her, but it’s making me want to bemorethan friends with her. I never thought I could have one and keep the other in check. Which is why I never tried. I still don’t think it’s possible. And yet, when I picture myself dialing back, I see her face, patient but disappointed. Maybe all I need is a slight pullback with better boundaries. That’s what I’ll do.
I shoot Rosalie a quick text asking if she has a deadline for meto be home, and then I set my cell phone aside while I mitigate disaster with a company that’s on the brink of bankruptcy.
My fee is being paid for by an investor of theirs who will lose a lot of money if that happens.
Our half-hour video conference check-in lasts over an hour. No surprise there. I can’t force people to implement changes, but I seem to be very good at making people come up with elaborate excuses for why they can’t change. Their CFO is going to be fired by the board next week. I can sense it. A problem for Monday, I suppose.
Rosalie finally texts back as I’m turning off my computer and locking up my office. Andrew and I share a secretary, and I know she’s waiting on me to leave so she can.
Rosalie: No hurry. I can stay until you get here.
Liam: No date then?
I shouldn’t even ask. Maybe it is later, or maybe it got canceled. Maybe she just didn’t want to have dinner with Marisol and Andrew. None of those things are any of my business.
Rosalie: It got moved to tomorrow night. Did you know I had one, or was that a joke?
Three little dots immediately follow and then disappear. She has no idea how to take me now that we’re friends.
Rereading the text, I can see how she might assume I was being a tease. I’d like to say it will never happen again, but our new dynamic is tricky. No more texts, though.
I call, and she picks up after the first ring.
“Sorry. Andrew mentioned that you couldn’t come to dinner tonight because you had a date. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to make you late for anything. As it is, I’ll be lucky if I make it to their house by seven with the kids. They were hoping I could get there at six.”
“Would you like me to meet you with the kids? I could dropthem at Andrew and Marisol’s on my way home.”
“That’s not on your way home.” Her apartment is not far from my house. She and her sister moved there about a year after she started working for me.
“Then maybe I’ll just come to dinner. I’m texting Marisol now to tell her my plans have changed. She always makes enough food to feed an army, so I’m not worried about adding to her numbers.”
“Yeah, sure. Let me know what Marisol says.” I say this with casual indifference, but inside, I’m stoked. Just more evidence of why being friends with her is a bad idea.
“She just texted back and it says ‘come on over.’ So, I’ll see you at six?”
“Yes, I’m leaving the office now. Thank you.”
“No problem. I better go get the kids changed. We went swimming, and Callie’s asleep on the couch in her swimsuit. Bye, Liam.”
“Bye.” I end the call and stare at my computer screen, thinking. I’d better get changed too. I keep an extra T-shirt and jeans in a bottom desk drawer in case of after-work things like this. I convince the secretary to leave and then change my clothes so I’m in casual, weekend-Liam mode. I look more relaxed than I feel.
Chapter 11 – Partners in Crime
Rosalie
Marisol and I have been friends since college, and as little as we see each other these days, it’s a shame it took Liam’s reminder for me to change my plans from absolutely nothing to dinner at her house.
I just plain forgot that my Friday night was free and that she had invited me.
Andrew is one of those people you assume hates you until you figure out that he’s grumpy most of the time. But he’s a teddy bear when it comes to Marisol, so I’m part of his tribe now. I’m just glad they’re not into matchmaking. I can’t imagine who they’d pick out for me.
“What is Aunt Mari making for dinner?” Callie asks from the back seat of my Toyota 4Runner. This baby has almost 200,000 miles on it, and I’m sad to think it won’t last forever. “I’m reallyhungry.”
“Everything.” I smile at Wyatt sitting next to her. He’s old enough to realize that most people do not offer five different main dishes and an assortment of side dishes in one meal. And like me, he’ll eat just about anything. Callie’s the picky one.