Page 14 of We Met Like This
Well, I don’t blame her, you do look rideable.I hit send before I thought twice about it. What had gotten into me? I wasn’t exactly the talk-dirty-over-texts type. But with Oliver, it was different. We weren’t trying to date each other, and that gave me a freedom I didn’t usually feel when chatting with guys.
Rein it in, Margot, Oliver texted back.
I responded:You couldn’t pass up the pun. I hope you used that on her.
I didn’t think of it until now. For her, I said nothing.
But the carrot, Oliver! The carrot!
If only I knew what it was code for…
I laughed. I might be more motivated by a literal carrot. I’m hungry.
So… why are you having a bad day?
You know how other people’s dogs love me… other people’s children? Not so much.
I assume you have some evidence to back up this claim.
I glanced down the hall Dani had walked minutes before. It was empty.The look my boss’s teenage daughter just leveled me with after my attempt at trying to relate.
I don’t accept this evidence. Children and teenagers are not the same thing.
Are you speaking from experience? You’ve also made a teenager hate you?
I WAS a teenager,he responded.And I was cold to most adults.
But I’m twenty-seven! She’s not supposed to think I’m old yet. I’m practically her peer.
Bless your wannabe young heart.
Twenty. Seven!
The same as forty-seven to a teen.
What would that make you, Mr. Thirty-year-old? Fifty?
At least.
I looked up at the sound of shuffling feet that preceded Dani heading for the door. “Leaving?” I asked.
“My dad said he’s going to be forty-five more minutes.” She rolled her eyes.
“Sorry about that,” I said, as if I were solely responsible for her dad’s schedule.
She shrugged and pushed open the door.
“Hey, Dani! How old do you think I am?” I called, because I lacked self-control.
The confusion that overtook her face was understandable, but that didn’t stop her from saying, “I don’t know… thirtysomething?”
I shouldn’t have asked and I definitely shouldn’t have gasped at her response. I cleared my throat and tried to save it with a “Good guess.”
“Bye,” she said, not even caring enough to ask if she was right.
I grumbled and turned my attention back to my phone.You’re right. Who needs teenagers to like us anyway? I’ll always have books.
I snapped a pic of the bookcase in the lobby and sent it off to him.
