“Oh, um ... it’s for a Cystic Fibrosis Charity Gala back home in Tennessee.” The lie comes quick and easy, simply rolling off my tongue.
“What a wonderful cause,” she remarks, to which I smile in agreement. “I’m sorry I never called you after the New Year’s Eve party. Things have just been so busy.”
“No worries. I’ve been pretty tied up myself. What does your schedule look like later this week? You free for lunch?” I ask, even though I have no desire to get to know her better. Hell, maybe she’ll open up to me about Tripp. At this point, with the position I’m in, I should probably keep this girl close to me.
She scrolls through her phone, saying, “How about Thursday? Sometime in the afternoon?”
Since I have no job and I’m no longer in school, I don’t even have to check my calendar. “Yeah. Thursday sounds great. You still have my number?”
“Yes. I’ll pick a spot to meet and text you.”
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.” It isn’t a total fib, but it also isn’t the truth.
While she heads toward the register to purchase the tie, I slip back into the dressing room to change.
“Did any of those work for you?” the sales associate asks when I step out.
“I think I’ll take this one,” I say, handing her the dress.
“Perfect choice.”
Relaxed, I hand over my bank card without fear of it being declined. When she zips the dress up in a hanging bag, I smile as I take it from her.
Happiness is an old friend I haven’t seen in over a year, and I embrace it. Sure, it’s a bit dented and sinister, but I’m not trying to dissect what I’ve been longing to feel.
When I arrive back home, Luca is watching television in the living room.
“Where have you been?” he asks, eyeing the garment bag draped over my arm.
“Shopping. I needed a new dress for interviews.”
“I still can’t believe you got fired.”
I head to my room, and Luca follows, stopping at the door.
“Is everything okay?”
I hang the dress in the closet and tell him from over my shoulder, “Yeah, I’m fine. Yesterday was a crappy day. No big deal. Sorry I snapped at you.”
Leaning against the doorjamb, he stares at me with concern.
“I promise, Luca,” I try to assure. “I’m fine.”
“I worry about you.”
“Don’t.”
“I just know that whatever you’re going though is a lot and that you probably aren’t talking about it with anyone.”
“I talk to Mrs. Montgomery,” I defend.
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, if it makes you happy, I just so happen to have a coffee date later this week with Olivia.”
“Olivia?” he groans as he strolls across the room and sits on the edge of my bed. “Just do me favor and try not to bring her around. She’s a clinger.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” I laugh. “You really think she’s still hung up on you? You guys hooked up a couple of years ago.”