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“I can’t go with you. I have some items I need to take care of on Saturday and a noon lunch with Jordan Grayson.”
“Why are you meeting him?”
“He might give me some seed money for a few projects I’m working on.”
“You know you could ask my father for help if you need it.”
“Absolutely not. If you were my wife, maybe, but we’re only dating. Suppose some…” I stop talking because I don’t want to bring up a possibility that we could break up.
“Suppose some, what?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“You were going to say suppose we break up, weren’t you?”
“Lana, I wasn’t. I just don’t want that type of entanglement with possible family. It could get messy.”
“Don’t bullshit me. Do you think about us breaking up?”
“Of course not. I love you. It’s the furthest thing from my mind,” I finish stripping and sit on the rounded edge of the tub. “You’ve been very insecure about our relationship. Is there a problem? If there is, I want to know.”
“Sometimes, I’m just not sure I’m a priority in your life.”
“I promise you are. You’re my number one priority. I think about this becoming permanent.”
Her eyes widen, “You mean marriage?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Are you just saying that because I’m angry at you?”
“No. I think about it. We’ve been dating for almost four months. Don’t you consider it a possibility?”
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself after what happened with Don.”
“Don’s a fucking idiot. He had you, and he lost you. He’ll think years from now that he lost the best thing in his life, but it will be much too late. Now get out of the tub and take a shower with me.”
A half-hour later, I’m sitting in my bathrobe enjoying the breakfast Lana made me while reading The Wall Street Journal. She’s getting ready in the master since it takes her longer than me to get dressed. By eight, we’re out the door, and I kiss her goodbye in front of my building since she needs to stop by her apartment before she goes to work. We never did finish our conversation about her going away this weekend, but it’s a moot point since I can’t go anyway.
My day is busy with conference calls, emails, putting out fires in the programming department, and deciding on the packaging for our new game, The Fires of Hell. Since we’re gearing up for the Christmas holiday, I need to make sure that we have at least one title for release to capture some market share. We’ve been blitzing the airwaves with commercials, and it’s costing me a pretty penny. I’m hoping I can get a few investment dollars from Jordan Grayson.
Lana texts me later in the day to let me know that she won’t see me until Sunday night. I hope that she gets home early enough so that we can spend some time together. I tell her I love her, text me when she arrives in Virginia and send me dirty pictures if she has a chance.
You’re a pervert. What’s wrong with you?
Me? I’m not asking you to take pictures in your birthday suit in front of your family—just something in private.
There is no privacy at my aunt’s house. I have to share a room with Alicia.
Oh. Try to be nice, and I’ll wait for dirty pictures when you get home.
I love you, Zane. Try not to enjoy the weekend without me too much.
I frown at the text that she just sent. I don’t enjoy any days that I’m away from her, and I can see that doubt is creeping in again. I need to make her understand a day without Lana is no fun.
I won’t enjoy the weekend without you at all. I love you.
I don’t hear back from her, which I have to wonder if that’s good or bad. I don’t have time to text her again since I have a staff meeting with my programmers. If it runs over, then I’ll be here past five tonight.
