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Only a minute passed before she answered. Did she know I was here?
Goldie: You stalking me now?
I smirked down at my phone. There she was. She could don those sweet, polite smiles for a date and come in looking all prim and proper, like a precious little doe, but I knew Marigold better than anyone. There was a lion in that heart of hers. Maybe I got the claws more often than not, but she didn’t show anyone that strong-willed attitude the way she showed me. I wouldn’t change that for anything.
If you’re into that, maybe. Or maybe I’m sitting across the restaurant and happened to notice that you’re dressed to kill for a date with Orange Guy. What’s up with that?
Goldie: He rescued a litter of kittens the other day. It gave me a newfound appreciation for him.
Anyone can do that.
Goldie: You would know because there’s lots of kitten rescuing going on over in financing, right?
One side of my mouth quirked higher. That smart mouth of hers had always been one of my favorite features. It felt like she was sharpening a blade that she was about to throw straight at me.
Careful, Goldie. If you spend all night on your phone, Hank-erchief may get offended.
Goldie: You sound jealous.
Focus still locked on our message exchange, I pressed my tongue against my cheek. Maybe I was jealous, or maybe I just liked playing this game with her.
My mind drifted to the way she smiled up at the guy, and my heart raced further. My palms itched and the hair at the back of my neck stood up. No, I was definitely jealous.
Do I?
Goldie: You do. A little too jealous for a man who’s on his own date.
On my own date?
Maybe Calla hadn’t told her we were here at all. A date. The idea was hysterical in itself. Is that what she thought? I told her I had plans, but I hadn’t elaborated. Though it was a reach for her to assume I had a date. There had been no dates since we separated. Not on my side. But how would she know that?
If I had been interested in dating, there was no way I would have told the clowns at this table. If I’d told Calla, she would have launched into an FBI-level deep dive on the poor girl, then rolled right into making scrapbooks for me and the woman I’d taken out once, showcasing what our future children would look like.
And yeah, I guess I had pretended to be interested in a couple of girls at Romfuzzled last year, but I only did it to get a rise out of her. It had worked like a charm too. She’d argued with me across the table in front of everyone, lighting me up inside with her ferocity and fire. It had made my night. I’d smiled the whole way home.
If by date, you mean listening to Crew whine about this new food truck owner, then sure, I’m on a date.
Dots danced on my screen, signaling that she was typing, but after a few seconds, they stopped. I’d almost given up when she finally responded.
Goldie: Meet me in the bathroom.
My heart leaped so violently I made a mental note to call my dad’s cardiologist and schedule an EKG. I needed to get this under control. That text was not what I was expecting, but I would take it.
It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Might need to stretch first.
Goldie: Shut up and come here already.
I lifted my head from my phone, pulse racing and blood whooshing in my ears. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
Crew and Nathan nodded, but the conversation continued around me.
I stood, wiping my palms on my pants, and ran a hand through my hair. Then I straightened my jacket. By no means did I look good enough to be seen anywhere near Marigold tonight. No one did. But I’d work with what I had going on. Suddenly, I felt the need to write Crew a heartfelt thank-you note for forcing me to show up in a suit.
Because if she was going to mentally line me up next to old Hanky Doodle, then at least I was somewhat put together. She was dressed for a five-star restaurant, while my competition was wearing a polo shirt. At least I was wearing a tie. Maybe I’d include a Visa gift card in Crew’s thank-you.
I snaked my way between tables, moving toward the restrooms on one side of the dining room. When I got there, Marigold was pacing in the hallway. As I approached, she came to a screeching halt and zeroed in on me, a fire burning bright in her eyes as she took me in from head to toe. I smiled in anticipation and successfully fought the urge to rub my hands together.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, as if people in the eating area could hear us.
