Wrong Place, Right Time(27)

Oh, God. She didn’t! She’s not! She’s not playing matchmaker is she?! Ack!

I can’t look at him anymore; it’s too embarrassing. “Never mind. Here, have some wine.” I hand him a glass, sloshing a little wine out of it in the process. I grab my drink and mumble under my breath, “I know I’m going to,” before taking a big swig of it.

Dev takes his glass and holds it up in front of him. “Cheers.”

I’ve already taken a huge sip, but I hold my drink up too and nod as the two glasses touch. “Cheers.” My voice comes out strained because my wine has shrunk my vocal cords or something.

He takes a sip and winces. He tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace.

“What?” I ask. “You don’t like wine?”

“No, I do. Just not . . . white wine.”

I snort at his obvious lie. “No, you mean crap wine. I get it. I’m not one for splurging on alcohol, I guess.” I shrug as I stare down into the glass I’m taking another sip from. Sip, gulp . . . who’s counting?

He takes another very small drink from his glass. “No, don’t worry about it. This is great.” He holds the glass up at me again and grins really hard.

I shake my head and speak softly, trying not to be charmed by the fact that I can read every last emotion he’s experiencing on his face. “You are such a terrible liar.”

His grin is sheepish. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

I’m sure he thinks I was insulting him, but I wasn’t. I have this thing against men who are good at lying. It’s refreshing to be standing in front of one who’s only good at telling the truth.

I lean on the edge of the counter. A glance at the clock tells me it’s almost ten. “Don’t you have to get back home to your son?” Another sip has my glass almost empty, and it’s a big glass, too. Normally, I’d care about coming off as a lush, but not tonight. Tonight I’m kid-free and pissed off . . . a powerful combination. Bring on the alcohol!

“He’s with my mother right now. She helps me out a lot.”

Kid talk. I can hang with that, even when I’m buzzing. “Does she come to your house, or do you take your son to her?”

“She comes to my place. My son is . . . more comfortable there.”

I nod. “I get it.” I throw my arm out for illustrative purposes, calling his attention to the fact that it looks like my kitchen was vomited on by a unicorn; every color of the rainbow is here, represented by various dolls, action figures, trucks, and games. “My kids have all their toys here. It’s usually easier for May to come and watch them at our place when I need her.”

“So, May helps you out a lot?”

I shrug. “She used to.” I hate that my heart feels like someone is pinching it. I massage the rib space over it with my first two fingers and take another sip of my wine.

“Why did she stop?”

Guilt hits me when I realize that I’ve led him to believe May has dropped the ball on me and the kids. “I guess I shouldn’t have said it that way. She hasn’t stopped, she’s just . . .”

Dev nods slowly. “I get it. You think now that she’s working with Ozzie, you won’t be seeing her so much anymore.”

He’s way too perceptive. My chin goes out a little. “You think I’m wrong about that?”

“Maybe you’ll be right for a little while, but I think May will come around. This whole thing with the company and with Ozzie is all new stuff, but once she gets the hang of it, she’ll refocus and remember what the more important stuff is.”

“How do you know?” I hate that I’m holding my breath, waiting for his next words, but I am; there’s no point in denying it. I want to believe that he’s right. I want to believe that he’s as perceptive as he seems and that I haven’t lost my sister to his muscled colleague.

“It’s pretty much how it happened for all of us.”

Dev puts his glass on the counter, and I put mine down next to his. I want to be sober for this part, and I can’t trust myself to stay on plan if I have that glass in my hand and the bottle nearby for a refill. I fold my arms across my chest. “Really? To you too?”

“Yep.” He taps his finger on the counter, seeming distracted as he answers me more fully. “I was the fourth person to join the team. First it was Ozzie, of course; then there was Thibault. Lucky came next, then me. And last there was Toni.”

“Is there any particular reason why you all came in at different times?”

“Well, there were reasons, but they’re not important. My point is that when you first join the team, it can be really overwhelming.” He looks up at me, the joy he has for his work shining out from his eyes. “It’s totally different from any other kind of job; we’re like a family more than just work colleagues. I mean Ozzie, Thibault, and Toni grew up together, since they were practically babies, so they know each other inside and out. Lucky met them when they were just in grade school. When a group like that asks you to come be a part of what they’re doing, and they’re doing this thing that’s really different and exciting, and sometimes a little dangerous, it kind of takes up all your head space for a while. But then your duties get mostly evened out, and you all figure out what you’re going to be doing each day, and then it becomes pretty much like a regular job.”