Page 7 of The Challenger

“Don’t pretend you’re not on the make here,” Chavez grumbles. “I just gave you two hundred dollars. Hand over the phone.”

“Do you want to talk to him?” She asks me like I’d be a fool to say yes.

“A deal’s a deal,” Chavez says, losing patience. “You have my money. Give me the phone. And take it off speaker.” After some commotion the line quiets to a private connection. “Hey Miss Flynn,” he says. “Long time no talk.”

It all happened so fast, and I find myself trying to wrap my head around what is going on. “You paid her two hundred dollars to call me?” I ask.

Out of the corner of my eye, June, taking a sip of her cappuccino, spews foam all over the table. Vandana stops stirring hers like she’s frozen in amber.

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” he replies.

“I thought you didn’t chase women.”

“First time for everything, right? And be flattered that I am chasing you. It's a rare event. I'm only here for a few more days, so we should hang out."

“You want to hang out?” I repeat.

“Yeah,” he says. “As in, do something together.”

I pause, think about it, and decide to test my theory. It’s just an inkling I had. “Since Madison turned you down last week, what makes you think I’ll say yes?”

“What?” The phone muffles as he blasts Madison. “You told her I asked you out? That’s some major bullshit and you know it.”

She defends herself in a small voice. “I didn’t want her to feel like she had to leave her number.”

Yeah, nice try, scammer. I believe that like I believe the earth is flat.

“You still there?” he asks me.

“Yes. I’m curious to know how this ends.”

Vandana grows more curious, her dark brown eyes brimming with questions. An out-of-the-blue man ambush has happened to me exactly never.

“It ends with you taking my number or giving me yours,” he says. “Pick one.”

Hmmm. A mini dictator. Am I surprised? Not really. He bristled hard when I asked him how old he was earlier. Mr. Fearless did not like that at all.

“Hold on, okay?” Half the time I hang up on people when I try to multi-task on the phone, so I turn to June and make the motion of writing. She scrambles in her Stella McCartney bag for a well-chewed Bic pen and a business card and hands both to me. I tell Chavez I’m ready for his number, and he reels off his digits.

“Don’t be shy, all right?” he says. “Time is of the essence. I leave town next Tuesday.”

Five days. Longer than any of my relationships. I need that pleasant reminder like a root canal at midnight. “Thank you for the call, but I have to go. I’m in the middle of brunch.”

“Adios, Miss Flynn. And just so you know…” His voice drops, and I can feel the warmth of his smile through the phone. “I’m still thinking about your legs.”

My cheeks glow pink when I hang up, and the look of shock stamped on my besties’ faces is priceless. They’re always weighing in on my love life, or lack thereof, to the point I don’t tell them much anymore, to spare myself the grief. But neither of them ever had a man throw down money to call them.

After a beat, June clears her throat. “We’re not going to sit here and pretend that call didn’t happen, are we?”

“I met this guy today,” I say, casually.

“And?” Vandana spins her finger in a circle, meaning,more, please.

I share a few details of the Chavez run-in without dropping his name and switch up the location to the dentist. They don’t know I’m seeing a shrink. No one does.

“Is he hot?” June asks. “He sounds spicy.”

I bring up his photos and hand over my phone. “You tell me.”

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