Page 64 of One-Star Romance

A grunt of pain escaped him. If he had to put it into letters, the sound would look something like “mraghhh.” He rubbed his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut. He could fix this.

Somehow the grunt was still coming out of him. He turned it into more of an “ahhh” sound, then reopened his eyes and looked at Natalie as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Oh. Excuse me. Just marveling at the house.”

“With your eyes shut?” she asked.

“It has good strong bones,” he said, patting the banister. “Solid wood. Not the flimsy stuff you often find in new construction.”

She held her hand up over her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about wanting to make sure that our friends live in a well-built house,” he said stiffly.

“You’re right,” she said. “Nothing amusing about this at all.”

As if things couldn’t get worse, a familiar-looking man slid toward them smoothly, like he was on a moving walkway. Rob shook his head to clear it. Was he hallucinating the presence of Tyler Yeo?

“Nat! This party is lit!”

Nope, it was the man himself. Was she with him? Perfect, now she could stand there and compare him to a literal movie star.

“Hey, man, you a friend of Nat’s?” Tyler held out his hand for a shake, and Rob reluctantly took it. God, Tyler’s grip. He might accidentally crush Rob’s fingers. Rob would not let him. He gripped back, squeezing as hard as he could, until Tyler looked down at their handshake, confused, and extricated himself from it.

“Are you a friend of Nat’s?” Rob asked back.

Tyler furrowed his brow, as if surprised Rob didn’t already know all about him. “Not just friends. Coworkers too.” He slung a casual arm around Natalie. “We’ve got a TV show together.”

“Ah, right,” Rob said. “I think I’ve seen some billboards.”

He’d watched most of one episode, actually, sprawled catatonic on the couch that he’d until recently shared with Zuri, empty beer bottles on the coffee table in front of him, thinking it might be the kind of mind-numbing entertainment he needed. Then he’d had to turn it off. Why had he thought that anything to do with Natalie could be mind-numbing? At least the character of Dennis was different now. If Rob hadn’t read the book, he would never have connected him to Angus. But would this show drive more people to pick up the source material? He couldn’t stop worrying about how it might hurt Angus, if he ever put two and two together. And more than that, Rob couldn’t stop thinking about Natalie jabbing her finger into his chest in the hallway outside the wedding reception, how cruel he’d been to her that night.

Rob’s phone began ringing with an unfamiliar number. Spam, most likely. Still, it offered an excuse to get away from Natalie’s raised eyebrows. “I’m getting an important call,” he said loudly, and began to walk down the hallway, ready to fake a meaningful conversation with whatever random telemarketer had dialed him up. “Hello?”

“Robert?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Bill Flanagan, your parents’ neighbor.”

“Right.” Bow Tie Bill, a man in his fifties who was always dressed formally even while mowing his lawn. Why the hell was Bill calling him? For a moment, Rob wondered if his parents had shared the news of his ruined wedding with the whole neighborhood, knocking on every door with Rob’s tale of humiliation, and Bill was calling to express his condolences. But of course not, Rob’s father was probably too ashamed of him to tell anyone.

The phone call where he’d had to tell his parents about Zuri had been one of the worst moments of Rob’s life. He’d made it as brief as possible, saying goodbye into their stunned silence. His mother called him so frequently now, he had to occasionally pick up so that she didn’t send the police to his apartment to check on him. But he hadn’t spoken to his father since. He couldn’t bear to hear a lecture or disappointment or, worst of all, a hint of triumph in his father’s voice.

He caught Natalie watching him out of the corner of her eye and gave her a nod. Everything is fine. I am an in-demand person. She did not seem convinced, so Rob forced out something adjacent to a chuckle and said, “Nice to hear from you, Bill. Happy holidays.”

“I’m sorry to bother you. I tried your mother, but she wasn’t answering her phone, and I had your number from a list of emergency contacts she gave me a while ago.”

“Ah yes,” Rob said, nodding as if Bill was saying something of extreme fascination.

“Your father is standing on my porch yelling about how I’ve stolen his wallet.”

“What?” The sentence was not computing in Rob’s head. All that whiskey making him slow. “Why…why did you take his wallet? A mistake?”

“No—”

“Whatever your reasons, it’s all right. You can just give it back to him.”

“I haven’t taken anything from him,” Bill said. “I think he’s confused again, but your mother isn’t around this time. So I don’t know what to do.”

A buzzing started up in Rob’s ears. Suddenly, he was stone-cold sober. He looked around for the nearest doorway and opened it, ducking into Angus and Gabby’s laundry room, bracing himself on the washing machine. His mouth had gone dry, and he forced himself to swallow before saying, “What do you mean ‘again’?”

---