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“No hard feelings, huh? Who do you suppose is the victim, here? You?”
He lifts his clammy hands in surrender. “Listen, I really don’t want to get into the blame game. We… have a long history that I think should remain in the past. Mistakes were made on both sides. I admit it.”
I seriously don’t have the bandwidth for this right now. All I know is Pancho Two is back in town and the Posse is breathing down my neck. This little man has got to go.
“Right, umm… here’s the thing, Alan.”
“Aaron.”
“That’s what I said. We’re a little bit busy, so unless you’re going to order something, I’ll have to ask you to make room for our paying customers.”
Olive bends her head down and I know she’s stifling a laugh.
“Oh. Okay. I actually ate before I came.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe a… Coke?”
Aaron is visibly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from side to side. He thinks he’s all that, but he’s nothing but a little lip-shitz.
“I actually wanted to invite you both to a party I’m throwing Friday night.”
“Hmm, yeah, no. As you can see, I have a restaurant to run and Friday nights are packed. Sorry, bro.”
“Well, what about you, Olive? You just work the lunch crowd, right?”
“Yes, that’s true,” she says. A rock drops in my belly. Is she actually considering this? Can’t she see he’s a slimeball? Then Bernadette’s words ring in my mind. ‘Olive has no creep-o-meter.’ She’s just too nice—well, unless you count that lunch in the fashion district, when she was anything but nice.
“Great. I’ll see you at seven. Oh, and it’s Comic Con themed. Cosplay your favorite fandom.”
“Yeah, Aaron. There’s just one problem,” she says.
“Is it the costume? Because you don’t have to dress up.”
“Oh no, it’s not that. I simply don’t want to go.”
That’s my girl. I slide my arm around her shoulder and squeeze her close.
“The lady has spoken, Ahab. She doesn’t want to go.”
Aaron grimaces at me. He’s quite aware I’m messing up his name on purpose. If he doesn’t go soon, I’ll be calling him another A word, and it might not go down well.
“Olive, if this is about not wanting to go back to the house we lived in together—”
“Nope. I’d just rather spend my Friday night on a stairmaster than at a party with you and Eyebrows.
“Eyebrows? What are you talking about?”
I’ve had enough of this. He’s wasted enough of my time. Meanwhile, Pancho Two is halfway across town by now, doing who knows what.
“Abel,” I say.
“Aaron,” he snaps through gritted teeth.
“Sure. This has all been very fun, but I’m going to go make out with my hot girlfriend now. So if you’ll excuse us…”
I’ve never seen someone turn so red, so fast. He looks at Olive and I’m pretty sure he blew out a brain cell with the way his veins are bulging in his temple.
“I’m happy to see you’ve moved on so quickly,” he says. “Good for you.”
