Page 75 of More Than Pen Pals
“What if you take her out, but we tell our parents she’s withyou?”That would solve my problem of not wanting to potentially hurt Leslie with this game we’re playing.
Randall shakes his head. “That won’t work.”
“Why?”
“Because I told Mom you have a date with her.”
I groan. “Why would you do that?”
“Mom asked me how everything went after we left dinner. What was I supposed to say? I thought you wanted her to think you and Melissa are dating.”
I’ve already gotten myself in over my head on this thing and am deeply regretting it, but I guess it won’t hurt to let it keep going for a few weeks while Leslie gets things figured out.
“Sorry,” I say. “You’re right. But I’ve changed my mind. You can’t go out with Melissa alone.”
“I don’t think you get to tell me what to do.”
“I do when it comes to this. It’s been three days since Colleen dumped you. Don’t be rebounding on Melissa. I like her, even if I’m already tired of hearing you talk about her.”
“Who died and made you the dating expert? Because this can only be inherited from a stranger. You didn’t earn the position from experience.”
I bristle at his words, but he’s not wrong. I’ve dated exactly one person in my twenty-five years, and the relationship only lasted a couple months.
“Sorry,” my brother says. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” I add begrudgingly, “But it’s true.”
“But I still get to come on the fake date?”
“Definitely.” Melissa was right. If Leslie were to see us, I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.
“Do I get to read the purple letter?”
“Definitely not.”
thirty-seven
Lunch has come and gone before I have time to call Ash to see when we can meet to talk about Diego. While I wait to be connected to his line, I pick up the family photo on my desk. I’m glad Shannon is coming to visit, but I’m also feeling guilty about not telling my parents the truth about Ash.
“Hey,” Ash says when the call connects.
How can that one syllable make my heart thump?
“Hey,” I reply, smiling like a goofball.
“Are you calling about Sanchez?” he asks after a few silent seconds.
“Oh, yes.” I clear my throat and sit up straight, trying to be professional, since this is a work call. “Do you have time to meet with me this afternoon about that?”
“I have nothing on my schedule after three o’clock,” he says.
“You want me to come over there at three then?”
“I’ll come to you. We might need to loop George in on what we’re thinking.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
“Also …”
