She smacked her teeth. “How did you get my number, and what do you want?”
“Listen, I’m calling to apologize for how I treated you earlier. Today’s been a hell of a day for me, and I took it out on you, which wasn’t fair to you. So, yeah. I’m sorry.” The line fell silent for a few seconds longer than anticipated, so I spoke up again. “H–hello?”
“I’m here.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“You’re not fooling me.”
My forehead creased. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t believe for one second that your apology is genuine. You just can’t afford any bad press.”
I sucked my teeth. She was playing hardball. “I’m sorry you feel that way. If you knew me, then you’d know I don’t apologize for the fuck of it. I never say what I don’t mean.”
“Is that right?”
“Yup. So, if you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to set up some time for us to continue the interview the right way. I promise you’ll have my undivided attention.”
“No thanks,” she refused. “I got all I needed.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive,” she retorted.
I sucked my teeth. “Fine. Whatever. Write whatever the fuck you want about me,” I growled with my brow downturned.
“See! I knew you didn’t mean it. The minute you got your pristine little feathers ruffled, the real you comes right on out!”
“Ain’t shit about me pristine, aight? And I did mean it. You’re determined to be difficult, and it’s pissin’ me off!”
“As I said, I’m good. So, there’s no need for you to call this number again.”
“Fine! Fuck it then!”
She hung up in my face before I could bring my thumb to the button, which pissed me off even more. I tossed the phone across the bed before sitting at its foot. My hands soon found themselves holding my head as I sulked in frustrated silence. I needed to get her and every other pain point of my day off my mind, soI decided to go to the grocery store and then head down to my restaurant to put all my focus into deciding which signature dish I was going to have during my grand opening at the end of the week.
∞∞∞
An hour later, I found myself wandering down the spice aisle to ensure I had all my seasonings, including my seafood staples, Old Bay, Creole, and lemon pepper. I was planning to make crab stuffed shrimp and already had fresh jumbo shrimp and crab meat in my cart. Once I’d gathered all the other ingredients I needed, I decided to grab a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine for pairing. I gripped the cold metal cart and turned down the wine aisle before freezing mid-stride. There she was, standing right under the “Shop and Save” banner at the end of the aisle, debating on the rows of wine bottles stocked on the shelving in front of her. She’d traded up her lavender pants suit for an oversized T-shirt that hung off her left shoulder, a pair of black cotton leggings, and lavender Crocs. Seeing as though I laid eyes on her first, I debated turning around and avoiding all contact. Instead, I and my squeaky cartwheels pressed forward.
“Isa?” I called out to her.
She twisted her neck in my direction and immediately frowned. “Not you again.”
I inched closer. “I think you’re the last person I expected to run into here.”
“Yeah, well, this is the only place with the wine I like, so….”
“Listen, now that we’re both here, I want you to hear me out.”
“No thanks. I said all I needed to say on the phone,” she protested before inching her cart away from mine.
“C’mon, Give me a chance to–”