I weigh this decision carefully.
Do I want to interrupt him at work? Do I want to interact with his brothers? And Belinda, who works the front desk?
I mean, the rational side of me is like… no. But I mean, I’m one of them now, right?
I’m family.
Yes. Even if I’m not family the way Vivian is, I’m her mother. I matter to these people.
So I walk across the street, open the door, and find myself in the middle of a group of sorority girls. I have to push my way past them to even get to Belinda at the front counter.
“Oh, hey!” she says, spying me in the crowd. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Vic and I were going to have dinner tonight. So I just came by after my shift.” I nod my head in the direction of the Pancake House.
“Oh.” Belinda frowns.
“What?”
“Hold on. Let me check with him. These girls came in.” Belinda nods to the crowd. “They weren’t all in the book, but they pre-paid, so…” She shrugs. “We’re gonna see them all. He’s gonna be running late. Unless your date is at midnight, I’d make other plans for dinner.”
“Oh.” Now it’s my turn to frown.
“But let me check first. One sec.”
Belinda scoots off her stool and disappears into the hallway where the tattoo rooms must be. Then she reappears and so does Vic.
Every single stupid girl in the waiting room stops talking to look at him.
He pays no attention to this attention. And I’m not sure if he’s just used to this level of—what, adoration? Worship?—or if he’s just trying not to make a big deal about it since I’m here. “Hey,” he says. He’s still wearing his black vinyl gloves, so when he touches my arm to point me to the door, he leaves green ink on my skin.
We go outside and he immediately starts apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Daisy. These girls weren’t in the book, but—”
“Belinda already explained.”
“Oh. OK. Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Um.” I cross my arms and do a high-shoulder shrug. “Yeah. I don’t think I can tomorrow. I have school and… school.”
“What about Vivi?”
“I’ll call her and see if she’s ready to come home. If not…” I force a smile and shrug again.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal. I’m super tired, anyway. So”—I point down the street—“I’m gonna go.”
“Take the truck.” He reaches into his pocket, getting green ink all over his jeans now, and then pulls the keys out. “It’s right here. Just take it home. I’ll walk. Then I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll figure things out. OK?”
I nod. “Yep. Thanks. That’s great.”
“Daisy.”
“What?”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not. I’m fine. I’m tired. I’m going home. Bye. Thanks. Bye.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I just walk over the truck, get in, start it up, and then back out onto College Avenue. I force myself to wave to him, because he’s still outside watching me, then I’m gone and I let out a long breath of air.
No date for Daisy.
What was I thinking? That a guy like Vic Vaughn would be interested in me?
I’m so not his type.
His type is girls like Belinda. That’s why she’s with Vann. She’s got pink hair, and her entire wardrobe seems to be black. And she has tattoos.
I don’t have tattoos. I don’t like tattoos. I’m not even sure I like his tattoos and they are pretty. Definitely high-quality.
The drive home is short and I don’t even remember about the parking permit until I’m pulling into a space. But then I glance at the windshield and sure enough, there it is. A permit for the apartments.
This makes me sadder for some reason. Because Vic Vaughn has a lot going for him. A lot more than I initially thought.
He’s one of those guys who takes care of shit.
I haven’t dated a lot recently, but before Vivi was born, I did my share. And I realized very early on there are two types of men in the world. The kind who get shit done and the kind who don’t. I guess you can call them lazy and not lazy, but that’s not entirely accurate. Lots of men who get nothing done have jobs. But they are not the kind who remember to take their girlfriend’s car in for an oil change every three thousand miles. Or have it towed to their buddy’s garage for a new transmission. They don’t fix a leaky sink without being asked. They don’t think of things like that and it’s got nothing to do with lazy.
Vic is a get-shit-done kind of guy. I have a feeling the entire Vaughn clan is like that too.
That’s the kind of man I want.
In fact, the more I get to know Vic, the more I realize he is exactly the kind of man I need. Never mind the tattoos, the beard, the bikes, the reputation—I like him. I have always liked him.