Page 30 of The Art of Almost Losing It
The chatter trails off as we approach the table.
“Found your straggler!” The hostess beams. “I’ll get you some waters.”
Beside me, the girl stiffens.
I keep my hand on her neck possessively. She stands very close to me.
I hold my breath, waiting for her to scream,Help, I’ve been kidnapped!
Instead she gives my family a wan smile.
My siblings, for once in their lives, are speechless. They sit there, mouths open.
Yeah, that’s right, motherfuckers. You thought I was lying. But I wasn’t. Look what I have—a girlfriend!I want to crow.
My hand slides down her back.
“Oh, um, wow—” My mom is shocked. She and Frank look at each other then back at me. “Wow. Kid. A girlfriend. Well, um—” My mom stands up and smooths her hands down her black jeans. “Wow,” she repeats.
“Well, Graham, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Frank demands.
Aren’t I going to… My brain screeches to a halt.
I do not know her name. I never asked her name. I never asked her anything about herself. Don’t know where she works, where she lives, food allergies, how old she is—nothing.
The girl is silent.
“Graham?”
Frank knows. I know he knows. His eyes are narrowed like he can smell the crime on me.
“Yeah,Graham.” The girl turns slowly, my arm still hooked around her waist. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
She says it innocently, but the smile—a real smile now—on her face says,Eat shit, motherfucker.
“I—” I stare down at her.
She lifts up on her toes. “You fucking suck at this,” she whispers. Her breath brushes my mouth.
“Hi!” she says brightly, holding out her hand to my mom. “I’m Dani. I work at Svensson Investments as an associate financial analyst, and I’m afraid I’ve had to pull an all-nighter. Graham”—the way she says it scratches the inside of my skull—“was a sweetheart and stayed up with me. Unfortunately, he’s not as great with late nights as I am—used to it, I’m afraid. But I want to go to the Formula 1 race in Monaco next month, and Svensson really doesn’t like to give PTO, so I needed to bank some goodwill.”
I’m stuck on the part where she said she works at Svensson Investments.
Yeah. Them.
Greg Svensson is going to shit a brick when he finds out I took one of his analysts. Not because he cares about her as a person—he’s a sociopath—but because I cost him money. He makes those analysts work on weekends. He’s got trackers on those fucking laptops. Shit, he probably already has his ex-marine brother Crawford ready to drone bomb my penthouse.
Cool. I’ll just have to enjoy myself at brunch since it’s the last meal I’m going to eat as a free man.
I resign myself to a life in prison and pull out a chair for Dani.
I’ve constantly been inundated with stuff from my parents about being respectful of women: No means no, only enthusiastic consent, and here are all the serial killers and kidnappers in the history of America, aren’t they horrible, terrible people? Basically, without saying it: Don’t end up like dear old Dad, lest you end up in prison for life too. They got nervous the one time in middle school I said I might like a girl, as if I wanted to keep her with me forever and ever.
That’s enough to turn my siblings back on.
“G-Doooogg!” Max cheers. “I knew you weren’t lying! Sit next to me, Dani!”
“No, me! You have to tell me everything.” Bridget grabs her hand. “Absolutely everything about Graham.”
