“Yeah, yeah, I know. Kinda freaked out that I’ll be partying with my future boss, but hey, if he can roll with you, he can’t be all that bad,” she winks. Her approval means a lot to me and having her on my side eases some of my anxiety.
“Thanks,” I smile. “I just hope Jared isn’t too freaked out about it.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Morgan says mindlessly.
I give her a raised eyebrow, like Dorian usually gives me. “Why do you say that?” Not that I want Jared to be freaked out, of course.
“Well, I was going to wait and tell you after we had eaten and all sharp utensils had been removed from the table,” she snickers. I put down the half of club sandwich on my hand and give her my undivided attention.
“So of course after the big blow up at Palmer Park, I hear about it… from Miguel but that’s a different story. Anyway, I call Jared to check on him because Miguel said he was really broken up about it. He was pretty pissed, Gabs. You really broke his heart.”
“I know,” I say solemnly. The memory of his pained face that evening flashes in my mind. Then I get a glimpse of my salacious coping mechanism later that night with Dorian. I feel a flame ignite down below at the thought of him. God, I miss him.
“So anyway, I thought it’d be a good idea to fix him up on a blind date to get his mind off of it. You know, give him someone so he won’t be so upset about losing you.”
“You did what?” My jaw drops in shock. This was the last thing I expected Morgan to say.
“Well, um, that’s not the worst part,” Morgan says, pausing for my reaction. I urge her to continue with a nod of my head. She inhales deeply. “I fixed him up with Aurora.”
“You did what?!” I repeat more loudly. Some nearby diners turn to stare at us. I can’t even return their glares; Morgan has just hit me with a ton of bricks.
“Just hear me out! My intentions were good, I swear!” she says holding her palms in front of her defensively, trying to calm me. “I figured if she was occupied with someone else, she wouldn’t be so hard-pressed for Dorian. I mean, she was pretty pissed about him blowing her off for you.”
The news of Aurora being upset because of my relationship with Dorian brings a tiny smile to my face. But Morgan is not off the hook for involving Jared. The slore in designer shoes? Anyone but her!
“So what happened?” I ask stiffly.
“They went out on Wednesday just for dinner or something. Jared wasn’t into it at first; I had to practically drag him there. Even had to make a deal with him to cut his hair for free for the next 3 months.”
“So? They didn’t hit it off?” Whew. Disaster averted.
“At first, no. But I guess they kinda liked each other. Neither one of them was psyched about being set up, but I guess they had a lot in common. Jared said they’ve been talking ever since.”
So Jared and Aurora. How could this happen? The woman I can’t stand, with her gorgeous model body and exotic features, dating the guy I’ve loved since the 9th grade. Jared is too good for her, no matter how beautiful she is. Well, that explains why Jared was all of a sudden so remorseful. He had been momentarily stupefied from his date with Aurora the night before. No, I can’t approve of this. There’s no way I’m letting that catty bitch sink her claws into my Jared.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I say shaking my head.
“What do you mean? I thought I was doing you a favor,” Morgan replies dubiously.
I feel bad; she really was trying to help rectify a situation that I had created. Her plan was logical, being that I hadn’t informed her of what had gone on with Jared or my heated run-in with Aurora.
“You were. I’m just being overly sensitive,” I sigh. “I just miss Dorian, I guess.” It’s true; I miss him terribly. And not being able to at least text him has been killing me, though this separation is not nearly as bad as last week’s. That was incomprehensible.
“Still no word from him yet?” Morgan picks her fork back up and resumes eating.
“No,” I frown. “I know it’s family stuff so I’m not tripping. I just wish I could hear his voice.”
“So what…they don’t have phones in Greece?” Morgan asks.
“Of course, they do. But I don’t have his family’s number.” Not that I’d call even if I did. I shrug and pick up a fry, swirling it in ketchup.
“Well, as long as you have his last name, you can find it. Google it! I mean, unless his family is poor or something and they really don’t have a phone,” she says.