There’s an awkward silence, then a rough throat clearing. “Yeah. If my insurance hadn’t lapsed a month ago.”
“Lapsed?” I repeat, my voice high.
His voice comes over the line in a frustrated growl. “My fucking incompetent bookkeeper just informed me that I never signed the check to renew the policy. It was cut, but for some reason never made it to my desk for my signature, and she forgot all about it. Until now, because the goddamn fire reminded her!” He groans. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be using that language, I’m just so frustrated.”
“Of course you are. Totally understandable,” I say faintly, focused on a large, meandering crack on my bedroom wall that’s been growing since the day I moved in. It bears an uncanny resemblance to a bolt of lightning.
“That’s not the worst of it,” says Craig grimly.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.” He sighs heavily. “I found out this morning that my general contractor’s license is being suspended.”
My jaw drops.
When I don’t say anything, Craig continues. “There was a labor code issue with a disgruntled office employee a few years back. Total bullshit, but she filed a complaint with the state license board. Long story short, we were investigated, and I found out a few minutes ago the investigation didn’t go our way. My attorneys are going to appeal—”
“Appeal! Yes, that’s great!” I know I’m clinging to that possibility like a drowning swimmer clings to a life vest because then I wouldn’t have to deal with this disturbing idea my brain wants to run away with that somehow the lightning, the lapsed insurance policy, and the suspended license have destiny’s fingerprints all over them.
Because I don’t believe in destiny. I don’t. I won’t. I know better. I’ve spent too much money on therapy to start believing in providence now. This situation is just one of those random things that happen in life, a misfortune, an accident. A fluke.
This isn’t the universe trying to tell me I should hire Theo Valentine to renovate my house.
Craig sighs heavily. “Yeah, but in the meantime, I can’t work on a suspended license. And the appeal process could take months. So, unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to take your job, Megan.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Craig. I was looking forward to working with you.”
His voice comes out gruff. “Well, that’s good to know, because now that we won’t be working together in a professional capacity, I was wondering if you’d let me take you on a date.”
Shocked, I stare at the lightning-bolt crack on the wall until my vision blurs.
“Hello?”
“Yes, I’m here, I’m just…surprised.”
“I know my timing’s weird, but it occurred to me after I got off the phone with my attorney a few minutes ago that life is short. Things can change at any minute, in ways you can’t predict.”
“You don’t say,” I murmur, feeling like I’m having an out-of-body experience.
“So I thought, shoot—why not just go for it? I think you’re a beautiful girl. Ballsy too. There aren’t many guys who negotiate as hard as you do. I like that.”
He likes how I negotiate? What the fuck is happening right now? I have to take a moment to compose myself before I answer.
“That’s…very flattering, Craig. But I have to be honest and tell you I thought you and Suzanne really hit it off at dinner. Why don’t you ask her for a date?”
In the pause as he chooses his words, I hear street noise in the background. “She’s not really my type.”
“Smart, sexy career girls aren’t your type? I find that hard to believe.”
“Listen, I don’t want to say anything negative about your friend, okay? She’s just a little too obvious for my taste.”
A flash of irritation hardens my tone. “Obvious. That’s guy code for desperate, slutty, cheap, or all of the above, right?”
He pauses again, longer this time. “I’m sorry if that was offensive. Maybe it wasn’t the right choice of word. I just don’t find her as attractive as I find you.”
“You could’ve fooled me. You two were all over each other at dinner.”
“No, she was all over me. I kept trying to get your attention, but you seemed distracted.”
I was distracted by all the hormones in the air, but from what he’s telling me, his hormones were aimed in my direction. God, are my instincts that off? Maybe being celibate for five years has dried up my intuition along with my poor uterus.