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“Would I sound like a psycho girlfriend if I said ‘anyone who tries to come between us?’” I ask, half joking, half serious, and well aware that I'm not his girlfriend. “I mean, I know I'm not your girlfriend-”
He cuts me off with a laugh. “You got it.”
I can't get over how happy he sounds to hear from me. I feel like leaping to my feet and dancing through the house.
“How have you been?” he asks, but the question doesn't sound like the typical run-of-the-mill how are you small talk that most people ask without really caring about the answer. He genuinely sounds like he wants to know how I’ve been, and that sends a flood of warmth rushing through my body.
Of course, I'm not really sure how to answer. I could tell him that I've been doing good, but it'd be a lie. I've been missing him and feeling kind of miserable. Still, that response seems like too much too soon, and I'm not sure what to say. “I can't really complain. How have you been?” Talk about a safe answer.
“Well, that's a loaded question,” he says. “I've been busy trying to make sure everything to do with the company is under control.”
I nod my head. I can only imagine how much work he has to do on a daily basis. “Still working on solving that case we talked about?” I ask, curious. I worry that it might be a sore topic, but I also want him to know that I'm in his corner, willing to help if he needs a fresh set of eyes. Nobody should have to go through what he's facing, and they certainly shouldn't have to do it alone.
“Still working on it, but not feeling like I'm any closer.” I swear I can hear the defeat in his voice, and it breaks my heart. I can't even imagine how I'd feel losing a parent to a situation like that and not having any answers and being gaslit and blown off when I try to tell people the truth. How horrifying must it be to tell the police that a crime took place only to be told no, it didn't? I'd be losing my damn mind if I were him.
“I'm still here if you need somebody to bounce ideas off of or want some fresh eyes on things.” I want him to know that there is someone in his corner, at least.
“I appreciate that more than I can say.” I hear the relief in his voice and know that he has been hard pressed to find anyone that believes him and is willing to help. There's a brief silence between us. Then he speaks up again.
“Zoe...” I feel his hesitation with my whole body.
“Yes?” I ask, holding my breath and wondering what he’s about to ask. I shift my weight on the couch as if I'll be able to get comfortable.
“Can I ask you something?” Though he sounds confident, there's a slight, unsure undercurrent in his voice, as if he’s not sure about what he’s about to say.
“Well, you just did,” I tease.
He chuckles.
“But sure.” I hold my breath, feeling my heart pound as I wait for whatever question he's about to ask me.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” The second he says those words, my heart feels like it's bursting in my chest and I jump to my feet, dancing back and forth quietly, celebrating like a fool. He wants to see me again! And I want to see him!
“Yes!” The word bursts out of me maybe sounding a little too excited, but he doesn't comment on my tone or obvious elation.
“Great,” he says. “How about tomorrow night?”
I'm still dancing around the room, absolutely stunned, thrilled, and excited that he wants to see me again. Maybe I wasn't wrong. Maybe there really is something real between us, some spark that we should explore. Now, if only I could explain that to the little voice inside me that's whispering that he's too good for me. I'm not going to listen to that voice. Not now, hopefully not ever.
“Perfect!” I say.
“I will text you the address. Someone will meet you at the front door and bring you up.” As he says the words, my phone chimes, warning me a text has come through, no doubt the address he’s talking about.
“I will be there.” This is the best outcome I could have possibly hoped for when I made this phone call.
“It’s good to talk to you again,” he says.
“Likewise. And I'm sorry it took me so long to call.” I feel bad.
“Don't be sorry. You called, that's what matters.” His warm, throaty words lift my spirits, and I can't hold back a smile as I plop back down on the couch, happy, stunned, excited, and a little worn out from my impromptu cardio.
“I'll talk to you soon,” I say.
“I can’t wait.” With that, we disconnect the phone call and I drop my head back, staring up at the ceiling with a silly smile on my face.
I'm going on a date with him. Our whirlwind vacation romance might actually turn into something real.
I do another little dance without getting off the couch, which pretty much consists of me stretching my arms and legs out stiff and waving them around like crazy.
