Page 210 of Love in Riverbend
“You answered.”
Devan laughs. “I’m eating lunch at my desk. You caught me. What’s up?”
“Does Marilyn work for the firm Parker and Stevens? I remember she had an internship there.”
“Why do you want to know where Marilyn works?”
“Dev, just tell me.”
“You never told me the two of you kissed.”
“Yeah.” That was our cover story. “None of your business.” Now I sound like a ten-year-old fighting with his sister. “I have a third interview with Parker and Stevens, and I wanted to talk to Marilyn if she works there.”
“She does. Do you need her number?”
I’m about to say yes. Before the word materializes, I suddenly worry she won’t take my call. “No. If she works there, I’ll call her at work.”
“Okay. The bell is about to ring. I have to go.”
“Thanks, Devan.” I disconnect the call.
The last time I spoke to Marilyn was at Devan’s wedding. She said she didn’t hate me. I’m not sure that means she will be willing to help me, but I need to find out. This dinner could be the key to me getting out of this apartment and a real life.
Checking Parker and Stevens’s website, I find what I could have found without calling Devan. Marilyn’s picture, a short biography, and the title Wealth Consultant – Fiduciary are staring back at me. For a moment, I take in her photo. In a business jacket, she looks professional and as pretty as she did at the wedding.
How had I not paid more attention to the blue of her eyes?
Taking a breath, I chastise myself. I already fucked things up with Marilyn once. I need to keep this professional.
When I call the number on the screen, I’m told she is out of the office. I leave a message.
Now, I must wait.
I’m supposed to RSVP by five o’clock tonight.
After a cup of coffee, I get into the shower, contemplating going to the dinner solo. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Why would the partners suggest a plus one? As the hot water rains down on me, I answer my own question. They want to know more about the applicants, such as if they’re stable and in a committed relationship. They hired Marilyn, and she isn’t married.
That thought is like a punch in my gut. I should have asked Devan that question. Maybe she is married. Why didn’t I ask? Her name on the website is listed as Marilyn James. That means she’s not married. Or she kept her maiden name.
My head is swirling with these new thoughts.
Surely Devan would have said if Marilyn is in a relationship or married. Then again, why would she?
My internal debate ends with the ringing of my phone.
I turn off the water and reach for a towel.
The name “Parker and Stevens Wealth Management” is on the screen.
Taking a deep breath, I answer the call. “Marilyn, thanks for calling me back.”
“Ricky?” Marilyn asks. “What’s with the new name?”
Oh, I forget that people from my past aren’t used to the name Rich.
I trap the phone between my shoulder and chin as I wrap a towel around my waist. At the sound of her voice, I remember the way she looked at me at Devan’s wedding, the way the dress accentuated her curves. Trying not to think about her breasts pushed against me when we danced, I work to keep my voice even. “First, thanks for calling me back. I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“That’s why you tried to be sneaky with your name.”
