Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(15)

“Like I said, you ask, and if the words out of his mouth aren’t an immediate, ‘Yes. Let’s do this,’ even if he pauses for a moment to deliberate, then tell him it was an early April Fool’s Day joke, call me, and we’ll go to the County Clerk’s office tomorrow.”

“Steven.”

“Trust me. I insist.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. If I tried to speak, I had a feeling I’d end up screaming instead, and I didn’t want to do that.

Swallowing my pride, I nodded. My lungs were on fire.

I would wait here for Dan. I would ask him to marry me. It would be humiliating. In the end, I had no doubt Steven and I would be the ones getting married.





Chapter Three





Mental incapacity. 1 :an absence of mental capacity. 2 :an inability through mental illness or mental retardation of any sort to carry on the everyday affairs of life or to care for one's person or property with reasonable discretion.





—Merriam-Webster Dictionary





**Dan**





What did you just say?” I checked my watch again. I didn’t have time for this shit.

After ten on a weekday. I was running late on one of the rare nights I’d get to sleep in my own bed. Steven needed to get home.

We were at the East Randolph Street property, on the north side of Millennium Park. Our main office was downtown, but we’d moved the data center to the apartment building a few months ago. Since Cypher Systems owned the whole building—and controlled all access points and ports in or out of it—Alex, Quinn, and Fiona believed the apartment building was the more secure option.

So here we were, in the apartment building where I lived, working late into the night, and I hadn’t yet had a chance to go home. Unbelievable.

Quinn glanced over his shoulder, giving me a look. “I said bring a Tonya. It’s a couple thing.”

I crossed my arms, returning his evil eye. “Tonya and I split.”

Quinn did that thing, that stupid thing where he waved his hand in the air like he was shooing away a bug. “I know.”

This was a stupid thing he’d been doing since we were kids when he didn’t want to talk about something. What did he think? That I wanted to talk about this shit? I needed to go. Now.

“Why do you want me to bring Tonya?”

“I meant a Tonya.” Again with the hand wave. “Bring a Tonya.”

“Bring a Tonya?” I scratched the back of my neck, not following. “You mean someone who looks like Tonya? Why does my date need to look like Tonya?” Checking my watch again, I rubbed my wrist. Steven hadn’t called, but I didn’t like being this late. Unfortunately, more and more over the last month, this had become the norm.

“I don’t care what she looks like as long as she knows how to act at these things.” More hand waving. “Like Tonya.”

Ah. I got it. Okay. No biggie.

But if he thought he could give me the impatient hand wave, then that was my cue to annoy him. “You’re going to bring up my ex-girlfriend and that’s all I get?”

“What?” His tone clipped, he glared at me.

“The least you could do is offer me tea.” I shrugged, sniffed. “What if I’m still emotionally unstable about the breakup?”

Alex made a sound, like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

Quinn wasn’t laughing.

“Hey, I have feelings.” I mimicked his stupid hand wave. “We were only together for two years, but—”

“No, you weren’t,” Quinn grumbled.

“Yeah, we were. We hooked up just after New Year’s, and—”

“You weren’t together. You were passing time.”

“She had a toothbrush at my place.” I was pushing the issue for no reason, but something about his easy dismissal of Tonya pissed me off. It also made my neck itch. My neck only itched when I felt guilty about something.

“So?”

“So, toothbrush residence-sharing equates to a serious relationship. Everyone knows this.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, him or me.

“That’s bullshit. You were never serious.”

Of course, he was right. We were never serious. “Fine. But, again, in my defense, we were together for only two years.”

“Only two years?” Quinn glanced at the back of Alex’s head. “Two years is a long time.”

“No, it’s not.” I shook my head.

“Yeah. It is.” Quinn nodded his head.

“No, it’s not. Two years is long enough to be infatuated with a person, sure. But definitely not long enough to know whether something is real, or whether it’ll last.”

Quinn’s frown of annoyance became a glare. “Are you fucking with me right now?”