Page 4 of King of Lies
I must have fallen harder than I realized. Did I even eat lunch? I know I went to the café down the road and got a chicken salad sandwich but the book I was reading was so good. There was this army officer and he met this kindergarten teacher. Sparks flew, condoms broke. I was both laughing and crying by the time my lunch break was over and most of my sandwich was still in the container.
When I got back to the store, I quickly wrote my name on it with a marker and tossed it in the breakroom fridge. I’ll eat it for dinner tonight when I get home. Crap. I can’t. I’m supposed to be having dinner with Francisco and Paul tonight. It was one of their conditions when I moved out on my own this year. Maybe I can save it for tomorrow’s lunch.
I look up and realize that I was wool-gathering while hanging in the strange man’s arms. Oh dear. Only I could manage such a thing. He must think I’m so weird.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“That’s quite all right. It’s not every day I find myself with a beautiful woman in my arms.”
“About that,” I start, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “You can put me down now.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Umm … then I’ll have to insist.”
“All right then,” he says as he carefully sets me on my feet.
“Thank you.”
I think he’ll move on, go about his business, something, anything away from me but he doesn’t. He just stands there, facing me. I’m such an idiot. Clearly, he needs help finding a book since he’s here, in a book shop, and I’m here working in said book shop. I could smack myself but then he’d really know what a dork I am and that would be terrible. Like life-alteringly bad. Like hope-the-earth-opens-up-and-swallows-me-whole bad.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask, nervously fidgeting with a lock of hair.
“Have dinner with me.”
“Anything but that,” I blurt out and snap my eyes closed. Why did I say that? I mean, I can’t go out with him. What would a man like that find remotely interesting in a book nerd like me? I don’t even know how to people all that well. Case in point right flipping now. But I could have said it better.
“So you’re seeing someone then?” he asks and it almost looks like he’s trying not to smile with the way his lush upper lip is twitching.
“Uh … no.”
How do I extricate myself from this conversation? It’s times like this I really miss my mom. She never thought my shyness, or my quirks, was weird. She’s been gone so long but I still remember the way she made me feel safe and loved no matter what. And then she died.
There’s something about this man that makes me feel safe, too, but then he makes me feel off balanced. Like the ground I’m standing on is being washed out from underneath me. Or the ladder I’m on is being knocked down.
He watches me and I want to fidget underneath his stare, but I force myself to stay still. I don’t want him to see what he does to me.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I have plans.”
“A date?”
“Family,” I shrug.
“Then have coffee with me,” he suggests.
“What? No,” I say as my panic grows. If I don’t get out of here soon, he’s going to know what a mess I really am. There’s something about this man. I want him to keep looking at me like I’m a fairytale come true, like I’m beautiful, like I could be his. Even though we both know that isn’t me. My life isn’t a fairytale.
“At least tell me your name, Hen.”
“Stella,” I whisper.
“Stella,” he says, testing out my name on his lips. The sound of it coming from his mouth in his deep brogue sends a shiver down my spine. “Until next time, Stella.”
And then he leaves me without a backward glance.
• • •
“There’s our girl!” my uncle, Francisco coos when he opens the door to their home. “How I’ve missed you.”
