Page 48 of The Deal Breaker

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Dash:Okay.

Henry:Enjoy a nice meal with Iris and forget everything else.

Dash:I will.

Henry:But remember to give her flowers.

Dash:Really?

Henry:I told you to trust me.

Dash:Iris always ordered flowers for me.

Henry:Of course she did. Get her a single rose.

Dash:Not a couple dozen?

Henry:One is plenty for her.

Dash:What color?

Henry:Use that brilliant brain of yours and figure that out for yourself. Time for my massage. Later.

Henry:One more thing. Don’t ask her out via text. Call, or do it in person.

Dash:This isn’t a date.

Henry:Trust me.

Call? Dash hated talking on the phone. He got through conference calls when necessary, but he preferred communicating via text messages. Trust Henry? Dash supposed he could because Iris would be asleep when he arrived home and tomorrow, somebody would be around the house, either Tony, Janice, or Leo—maybe all three.

Might as well do it now.

Dash pulled up her contact info. His finger hovered over the call button.

What was he waiting for?

This wasn’t a date. He went out with his other friends and never should have stopped doing this with her.

Why had he?

They used to go out all the time. Dinner, movies, arcades at bowling alleys. They were out of the habit. It was as simple as that. Everything would be fine once they went out.

He jabbed his finger against the screen.

One ring, and Iris picked up.

“What’s wrong?” She sounded breathless.

His pulse sputtered. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“The last time you called me, Wes was in the hospital and not doing well.”

The air in Dash’s lungs whooshed out. That had been over two—closer to three—years ago. How had that happened?

“Dash?” she prompted.

Oh, right. “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

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