Wallbanger(78)

’ve been wanting to try.

Have you forgotten I’m not really big on Vietnamese food?

Come on, you know it’s my favorite. You can get soup!

Fine, Vietnamese it is. I’ll find something.

BTW, the last of your furniture should be delivered Monday. I’ll be there to receive and place.

How much longer until the project is finished?

Except for a few pieces in the bedroom,

should be all done by next weekend.

Ahead of deadline I might add…

Very good. Wil you also be there

to finish things in the bedroom?

Stop it, Jamie.

I hate when you cal me Jamie.

I know, Jamie. See you Friday night

The day had exhausted me. I literal y had nothing left. I had plans to go to yoga, real y I did, but as the evening approached al I wanted to do

was go home. I wanted Clive, and I could no longer pretend that I didn’t also want Simon. Maybe he would be home? As I walked up the stairs I

could hear Simon’s TV through the door. I was already turning my key in my lock when I thought about my fortune cookie. I could knock on the door,

right? I could just say hi, right? As I debated, I heard his phone ring, fol owed by his voice through the door.

“Nadia? Hey, how are you?” he said, and that made up my mind for me. He had his harem, and I couldn’t possibly enter in to something like

that. If I wanted Simon, I wanted all of Simon. I’d promised myself no more messing around. As I felt tears prick at my eyes for the thousandth time

that day, I walked in to find Clive waiting for me, and I smiled through my tears. I picked him up, cuddling him to me as he told me al about his day in

cat speak. I interpreted for him, and it would seem that Clive’s day consisted of a light snack, a nap, about thirty minutes of grooming, another

snack, another nap, and then he watched the neighborhood for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Leftover takeout with Ina and Jeffrey on the

couch, a quick shower, and I packed it in early. I simply could not al ow this day to go on any longer.

With Clive curled between my legs, I went to sleep, again with no music from the other side of the wal .

The fol owing night I stood in front of my mirror, trying on different shoes for my date/not a date/of course it’s a date with James. I’d almost

cal ed him twice today to back out, but in the end, I pushed through it and got dressed. Sometimes a girl just needs to get dressed up, and tonight I

was dressed to kil : thin, fitted black blouse, tight red pencil skirt, teetery tal heels.



I’d been conflicted about this event, whatever it was, al week long. But I wanted to go. Was I using James a little? Perhaps. But I did have a

good time with him, and maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for us to start back up again.

“Caroline Reynolds, you heartbreaker,” I whispered to myself in the mirror. I actual y cracked myself up. Clive was embarrassed for both of us

and hid his nose behind his paw. I was stil laughing when I heard the knock at the door. I slipped into my heels and went for the door, Clive close

behind.

I took a deep breath, and opened it. “Hey, James.”

“Caroline, you look great,” he murmured, stepping inside and catching me into a hug.

As his arms went around me, I knew immediately. This was a date.

He smel ed spicy. I don’t know why girls always say boys smel spicy, but some do. And it’s a good thing, warm and spicy. But not like

potpourri…

I hugged him back, enjoying the way my body stil fit with his. We always were good at the hugging.

“You ready to go?”

“Yep, let me grab my bag.” I knelt to give Clive a quick kiss. He tossed his tail angrily in James’s direction and wouldn’t let me kiss him.

“What’s your problem?” I asked Clive, who turned and showed me his rear end.

“You know, that’s starting to become a very rude habit, Mr. Clive,” I warned him as I picked up my purse from the table. I stuck my tongue out at

Clive, grabbed James, and locked the door behind us.

“Okay, so dinner?” I asked as we stood outside my door.

“Yep, dinner,” he replied, standing very close to me. We stared at each other—for only seconds real y, but it felt much longer. He stepped a little

closer, and my breath caught. Of course, just then Simon decided to open his door.

“Hey, Caroline! I was just—Oh, hi. James, right?” His smile faded slightly when he saw my dinner date. Date, date, date.

“Sheldon, right?” James said, offering his hand.

“Simon, actual y.” He raised his trash-bag-fil ed hands and declined the shake. “After you.” He nodded to the stairs, and the three of us began

to troop down together.

“So, where are you two crazy kids off to tonight?” Simon asked as we walked ahead of him.