"He sounds very manipulative. And not in a good way."
"Is there a good way to be manipulative?" I asked, genuinely curious to know her opinion.
"I think so. My parents kind of do it, but they mean well and truly love us. So it doesn't feel the same way it probably does with your dad."
Like I did any time she mentioned her family, I tried to pounce on it. "So your parents are together, right? What do they do?"
"Yes, they're together. My dad's a lawyer, and my mom—wait a sec.Speakingof manipulative..." She paused to let out a laugh.
I laughed along with her. "Hey, I learned from the best."
Meanwhile, I added 'dad's a lawyer' to an ongoing note I had in my phone.
"I guess you did. I really have to watch my back with you," she said.
For some reason, I hated hearing that. "No. You really don't. If you let me, I'd actually guard the hell out of your back and protect you from all the bad things in life."
"You would, huh?"
"One-hundred percent."
"I'm sure you say that to all the ladies."
This wasn't the first time she'd said something like that to me, and I decided I needed to set things straight. Because I was a lot of things, but I wasn't some asshole fuckboy who'd fucked his way through Manhattan.
"What do you actually know about my dating history?" I asked, not sure what was out there on the internet about me, if anything.
"Um, well, not much, I guess," she admitted.
"Well, let me tell you then. Because I'm not some douche who has a different woman on my arm out at the club every night."
"Oh, okay." Her voice was a little breathless, a surprised edge underneath.
"Maybe a long time ago I tried to play the field a little, like most people in their early twenties. But it got old really fast. So I gave up and just focused on work and building my life up, cooking a lot, working out and hitting the gym, playing sports with friends when I had any free time."
"Oh, um, I see. Well, sorry for assuming."
"Not sorry. Remember?"
To my relief, she laughed again. "Thanks for the reminder. Not sorry then. Just didn't mean to assume. But looking at your peers, your colleagues, you can probably see why I did."
"Of course I can understand. Most of my friends have been absolute dicks. Growing up the way we did, with money, with privilege, it can go to your head and make you feel entitled, like you should always have a gorgeous woman on your arm. But I swear to God, I'm not like that."
"And why not? Why aren't you like your friends then?"
That was a good question, and I had to think about my answer for a bit. "I'm not sure really. It just doesn't appeal to me. And the last thing I want to do is mislead someone, make them think I'm interested in them just to get laid, and then ghost them."
Dead silence from the other end. Absolutely nothing. Not even a whisper of a noise.
"You still there?" I asked.
"Oh, um, yeah. Hey, sorry to cut this short. But I've got to run. I'll call you later though. Okay?"
"When?" I asked, my voice deeper and more firm than I'd intended.
I couldn't stand the idea of another fucking week without talking to her. If she made me wait that long again, I'd go insane. I was about two seconds away from hiring a private investigator, despite her desire for privacy and anonymity.
"Soon. I promise. Good talking to you. Bye," she rushed out, in a hurry to go.
