Roomie Wars Box Set

“Like our finals,” I repeat.

“I almost failed my finals.”

“I aced mine. Sorry.”

“Bitch.” She sulks.

We leave the kitchen and head back to our desks abandoning the wedding planning. Despite the unsettling feeling Slater left behind, we have a meeting in an hour, and I will be forced to face him. It’ll be fine. I need to relax and be myself. Then every uncomfortable feeling will soon be a distant memory.

Before leaving my desk, I grab my cell and send a text to Drew apologizing for this morning and seeing if we can have dinner tonight even if it’s a quick bite to eat at the café next to the hospital. Given that it was only after ten, I don’t expect him to respond until much later, leaving my cell behind at my desk.

The meeting’s been called to discuss a building being torn down with excellent potential for a small set of condos facing the ocean. It’s prime real estate and will attract investors from overseas. Unlike some of the other condos along the seaboard, this will be very upscale.

I walk to the boardroom entering quietly and switching the lights on. It’s not very big, enough to fit about twenty people seated comfortably. There’s a large mahogany desk in the center with a whiteboard on the front wall. Aside from that, there’s nothing else besides washed-out gray walls.

Slater walks in with his Mac in hand setting it on the table with his two cells beside it. He glances up, smiling, then focuses back on the screen and types in his password.

“So, I’m thinking about tracking down Bros to play at my wedding,” I blurt out, completely out of nowhere in an attempt to curb the uncomfortable silence.

He laughs. “When Will I Be Famous… odd song choice.”

“Why not have fun? It doesn’t have to be all corny love music.”

“I’d try to hunt down A-Ha. Better vibe.”

“They’re a one-hit wonder. What else would they sing besides Take on Me?”

“And Bros would sing what else? Their other songs barely made the top one hundred.”

Unable to hide my smile, I ask, “Didn’t know you were an eighties buff.”

“It was my childhood,” he says, eyes on me and distancing himself from his Mac. “You look a bit young, though, to be caught up in that era.”

“Don’t be fooled by the magic that’s L’Oréal face cream,” I joke. “Okay, Ducky. Hate him or love him?”

“Love him. He was the ultimate best friend. Screw the cool guys.”

“That’s what I thought.” I wonder out loud, “Favorite cartoon?”

“Voltron.”

“Uh, such a guy thing to say.”

“And yours?” he questions with a spirited smile.

“Mmm, let’s see. Strawberry Shortcake, Rainbow Brite, Masters of the Universe, Garbage Pail Kids. Oh, and Fat Albert.”

He nods in agreement. “Fat Albert was the best show.”

“Right? It’s funny how his weight was never an issue back then, but God forbid if you have a show dealing with weight these days. My brother’s had a baby, and his wife will only let their son watch educational shows like the Jiggles or something like that.”

“Do you mean Wiggles?” Slater asks, amused by our change of topic.

“Perhaps. Should I be questioning now or later as to how you know that?”

He laughs. “Later.”

We dial the number of the client placing the call on speaker while we conferenced. The meeting went on for two hours, straight into lunchtime. By the time we hung up, I was famished. And to make matters worse, I had one of those supplement shakes for lunch instead of real food. I’ll admit it was a late-night infomercial that sucked me in along with the Thighmaster.