Page 173 of The Love Operation

Benedict: They like you too.

Benedict: And you know I’m here—shoulder, ear, whatever you need.

Me: Thank you for offering your body parts. That means a lot.

Benedict: All are at your disposal.

Me: All?

Benedict: You always gotta go there, Spinal Cord, don’t you?

Me: Oh, that reminds me! I have a present for you.

Benedict: If this conversation reminds you, then I can’t wait.

Benedict: Wait . . . is it a body part?

Me: [GIF of Joey from Friends doing a dramatic shrug]

Benedict: Cord, just for the record—I don’t want random body parts.

Benedict: Unless they’re still attached to you.

Me: Dammit, Benedict. This is the kind of thing you tell someone early on.

The day of the chief selection . . .

Benedict: Well . . .???

Benedict: Did they choose wisely, or are we starting a coup?

Chapter 45

The Real Definition of Tragic

“Are you sure I should be doing this?” I ask.

Delenn’s voice rings through my car speakers loud and clear. “Yes!”

“You don’t think it’s too soon? Are the banana splits too sappy?”

“As I said earlier—I do not. Just go. You’ve kept that man waiting long enough.”

“But what if he’s up on a ladder when I get there, and I startle him, and he falls off and breaks his back?”

“Then you’ll fix him. Stop trying to find a problem. I’m hanging up. Text me if he falls off a ladder or shoots you with a nail gun. Otherwise—enjoy your evening.”

I mock gasp. “Do you think that’s a possibility?”

“Cord, I love you. I’m hanging up.”

A few minutes later, I pull into the driveway of the house Benedict’s been renovating. I already know he’s alone. He told me his team packed up for the day, just before he asked me about chief.

My heart thumps. My palms sweat. I glance at myself in the visor mirror, grab the cooler and gift bag, and step out.

I’ve never been this nervous to see another human in my life. Probably because . . . he isn’t expecting me.

What if he’s entertaining another woman?