Page 77 of Mr. Wrong Number

I started to respond to Liv, but Nick texted again.

Nick:Why? What’d she say?

“Dammit.” I texted Olivia first, as Wrong Number.

Me:Do YOU want to forget it?

The second I hit send, Nick was texting again.

Nick:Because I don’t want to piss you off, but I actually thought she was really cool.

Me:NO. Off limits.

I barely hit send when Olivia responded.

Olivia:I do. I cherish our texting friendship and don’t want it to change.

Nick:Can we talk about this?

Dear God, I was about to lose my shit.

I sent Nick one last text:We’ll talk tomorrow, but she’s batshit crazy with a truckload of issues; you don’t want any of that. Trust me. I ordered your scotch, btw.

Olivia

As soon as Nick was out of sight, I went back outside and headed for the Old Market; I just didn’t feel like going home yet. Meeting Wrong Number had been my grand solution to all themehthat my life had become, but after that disappointing reveal, I really just needed comfort food.

Because themehwas bigger than ever.

Thankfully there wasn’t a line out the door when I got to Ted and Wally’s Ice Cream, which was usually the case after dark—it was a hot post-date spot. I walked up to the counter, pressed my nose against the glass, and wanted it all.

“Could I please get a chocolate malt?” It was a total cliché,but I just wanted to sad eat until I either puked or fell asleep with a chocolate mustache. I moved down the line, swiped my card, and took my malt from the smiley kid with huge gauges in his ears. “Thanks.”

I turned to exit the shop and almost ran—literally—into Glenda. I muttered something akin toohmigodsorryexcusemejust before we both awkwardly looked at each other and quickly transitioned through the hey-I-know-you-wait-something-bad-happened-with-us-oh-this-is-uncomfortable steps.

“Hi, Olivia.” She was better than me at recovering. She smiled and said, “This is my husband, Ben. Ben, this is Olivia Marshall.”

I hadn’t even noticed the guy beside her. I tried for a smile and said, “Um, it’s nice to meet you.” I cleared my throat. “Good seeing you, Glenda.”

She looked so nice as she said, “You, too.”

I turned and started for the door, wanting to cry because—what the hell—I missed her. But just as I grabbed the handle I turned back around and said, “Hey, Glenda?”

She’d been talking to her husband, surely about me, but she lifted her head and said, “Yeah?”

I went back over to where she was standing in line and said, “I just want to apologize. I, um, I really like you and feel terrible for lying.” I knew the other ice cream customers were getting an earful, but I didn’t care. “I never meant to, it just... I wanted the job badly enough to let you misunderstand.”

Glenda gave me one of her super-nice, motherly smiles and said, “It’s okay, Olivia.”

“That’s really nice of you to say.” I swallowed. “I can’timagine what you thought when you heard. I only told one person, but he was apparently the wrong person. Regardless, it was a terrible thing to do and I’m really sorry.”

“Oh. Um.” She cocked an eyebrow and said, “That person might’ve blabbed, but it was Andrea who told me.”

“Andrea?” I had no idea who she was talking about. Her husband had moved away from us and was pretending to peruse the homemade ice cream selections.

“Andrea Swirtz. My ex-intern?” She pushed up her glasses and said, “We saw her when we had lunch at Zio’s, remember?”

That girl?“How didsheknow?”

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