Page 19 of Vicious Arrangement
Katie:and a possible sainthood.
I smile and rub my temple, moving on to a second glass of wine.
The clock in my head ticks louder, slower, like it wants me to know exactly how stood up I am.
Katie texts some more, and I reply, but really, as time inches toward an hour and no show, I’m just humiliated and don’t want to talk about it.
The waitress asks if I’d like a menu, but I order their most expensive whiskey. “In a Manhattan, rocks, please.”
When I finish slowly sipping it, he’s passed the hour late mark and sympathetic looks come my way, thick and fast. I pretend to read on my phone, like he’s always late.
I’ve dated doctors, so I pretend he’s one. Sometimes a doctor can be insanely late and I don’t think I’ve ever once been humiliated. Probably because there are times my career has made me insanely late.
At ten past the hour I order a double Manhattan.
I’ll send him the bill.
When it hits one and a half hours I start questioning my sanity.
Katie texts.
Katie:Well?
Me:I’ll talk to you later.
I can see her sit back, breathing out her pent up breath, thinking he’s here. But I know she’ll hang out a little longer at my place and then head home.
But now I’m out of the humiliation stage and into possible insanity, the underlying anger reemerges.
He’d have my number. I know that. I have his, Gramps gave it to me in his text message. But I’m not calling. What kind of pathetic sad creature would I be?
Tomorrow? I’ll send him the check, and blast him via a text.
Noah, not Gramps.
But Gramps would’ve given this horrible, spoiled Noah my number. Yet Noah couldn’t be bothered to call?
At almost two hours, I cave. I text him.
Noah, this is Aria. I’m at the restaurant, and have been since the arranged time you chose. Are you still coming?
Ten minutes later I get a reply.
One word.
One fucking word.
Yes.
I hate him. It’s like a fire in my veins that spits and flares.
A yes. One word. I shouldn’t have had to text him.
I order another Manhattan.
Christ, I haven’t even met the guy and I hate him.
Katie:it’s either going well or he’s murdered you. Please let me know.
