Page 21 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
Because I’m looking at him, I see his lips thin. I guess he’s not only aware of Angie’s pursuit, but not thrilled with it either. He wouldn’t be the first, unfortunately. He shifts his weight, as if preparing to bolt, but he had nothing to fear from me.
“How about you?” I ask.
He offered a small smile. “This is my place.”
Clearly, he’s making more than I am if he can afford a place like this. “Oh, I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
He tilts his head. “Why are you sorry?”
“Well, it seems rude to show up at a party without knowing who’s throwing it.”
“I won’t take it personally,” he says with a grin.
“Thanks. It’s a really nice place.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I inherited it.”
That’s something I can understand. My parents’ place is still waiting for me to claim it, and I will, soon.
He smiles again and I can see why Angie finds him so attractive.
“You work in accounting, right?” he continues.
“Yes.”
“I’m Henry. I’m in IT.”
“Nice to meet you, Henry.”
We chat for a little while. He’s quiet and soft-spoken with intelligence sparkling in his eyes. I attempt to bring Angie into the conversation again, but it’s apparent that he’s not interested.
I don’t push. Instead, we talk about good restaurants and local attractions. As it turns out, he’s something of an outdoor buff too. He asks me about local hiking and biking trails and seems especially interested in the white-water rafting packages offered nearby.
Eventually, others come over to talk with him, and I quietly slip away. I’m more than ready to call it a night. I scan the dance floor, looking for Angie, but I don’t see her anywhere.
I make a pass around the room. When I still don’t find her, I seek out the relative quiet of the restroom and pull out my phone to text her. Maybe she’s given up on Henry and left with someone else. Kind of rude of her not to tell me, but Angie does tend to get wrapped up in the moment, especially when she’s had a few.
Me: Where are you?
Angie: In an Uber on my way home
Angie: How could you
Angie: I thought you were my friend
I blink at my phone, confused.
Me: How could I what?
Angie: Henry was MINE
I stare at the screen, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Angie must have seen me sitting with Henry and thought I was hitting on him.
Me: It’s not like that
Angie: Yeah right
I send at least a half-dozen more texts. Angie doesn’t respond to any of them.
