“I’ve had better days. This starting a new job thing sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” I groan. “Although I think my particular situation is unique, but whatever.”
“Want to have dinner tomorrow and commiserate? Something simple, maybe a pizza or something?”
For a split second, I consider not going. I’m not in a date-going mood, not that I really am sure what that means cons
idering I haven’t had a real date in maybe ever. Besides, I don’t think it would be fair to him. I’m not sure how he would compare to Graham and I know I’ll compare. Fair or not, I will.
“Can I be honest with you?” I ask.
“I hope you will.”
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for right now. I just got out of a relationship and I’m not even sure what I want. Does that make sense?”
He blows out a breath. “Well, I didn’t know how to approach that topic, but same goes for me. I just got out of one hell of a relationship, and I just want to find someone to laugh with. Buy a pizza or a burger. Maybe catch a concert. So no pressure, Mallory. None at all.”
I shut the drawer, confident I’m not going to find my missing pack of batteries. “Perfect! What time were you thinking?”
“Maybe six? At Backstreet? Do you know where that is?”
“Yup. I’ll just meet you there.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.”
“Same here. Good night.”
I end the call and slide my phone across the counter top, watching it slam into a pile of napkins. They go fluttering in the air, half of them landing on the floor. I just watch with no intention of picking them up.
Keenan’s call should’ve energized me. Dates are exciting, right? I’m not sure Eric even really dated me. Regardless, I’m pretty certain I should have some flutter of excitement. Then again, they usually don’t come on the heels of having Graham Landry tell you he can’t kiss you.
I look Keenan up on social media. He’s cute, about my age, with short hair and big puppy-dog eyes. He apparently plays a guitar and works at a bar. I vaguely remember him.
He does nothing for me. I’m sure he’s sweet—he has some ode to his grandma on one of his pages—but there’s no attraction whatsoever. Still, it will be good to get out of the house and to stop thinking about Graham. Who knows, maybe I’ll fall breathlessly in love with Keenan and can thereby keep my job?
“Ugh,” I say out loud, trying to sort my feelings. They’re a big, messy heap and I can’t even begin to dig out from under it.
My chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. If I had just not said anything, everything would be fine. I’d be looking forward to seeing him in a suit tomorrow and making plans with Joy for the weekend. Instead, I’m allowing him to command my thoughts.
He’s going to fire me. I know it.
Graham
“We’ll be up and running soon,” I say over the steam of my coffee. “I have a few calls to make today, a few things to run by our attorney, then we can sit down next week with Dad and make the final decisions.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, G, for getting this put together. I appreciate it, man,” Ford says, nodding over his mug.
“It’s my job.” Of course it’s more to me than that, but it’s not worth the time it would take to try to explain it. I sit my cup down and take the papers he hands me and stick them in the Landry Security file. “I’ll send these to Mallory this morning and get her started on them.”
Ford takes a long drink, watching me over the brim. “How’s that going?”
“Fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Chuckling, I lean back in my chair. “She’s doing a fine job.”
“I haven’t been gone so long that I forgot how to decipher all your little nuances,” Ford laughs.