Page 75 of Mr. Perfect

“So you didn’t talk about it afterward? This afternoon?”

“No,” I say. “He’s gone. We’ll do that in his own good time.”

“So what will you do?”

“Show up for work on Monday and see what happens.”

“Well, that’s kind of cocky.” She giggles.

“He wants me there. Not showing up would be an insult. I’m not trying to insult him. I want a specific life too, Ellie. I have my own dream. I guess you can call it that.”

“What’s your dream?”

I want to tell her the truth, but I can’t. I can’t because I burned the secret I’m keeping from her. It’s shriveled up to dust in the fire in front of us. So I choose my words carefully. “I want… predictability. Stability, I guess. That’s probably a better word. And I want to change things at the same time.”

“Sounds like a paradox, if you ask me.”

“It is.” I take a long drink of my beer and watch her as she does the same. “I like to be rooted in fact. In reality.”

“So why do you like me?” Ellie asks. “I don’t think I’m that girl.”

“No,” I say, admitting it. “You’re a dreamer. And that scares me because it involves things that are untrue, or at the very least, unknown. I have a thing for truth, Ellie. A long history of being fucked over by the delusional lies of others.”

She squints her eyes. They flash with momentary anger, but she gets it under control. “Then why are we here?”

“Maybe I’m wrong about you?”

“Maybe I’m wrong about you?” she counters.

“Maybe we should take a chance on one another and find out?”

“What does that look like?” she asks, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

I sigh and shrug. My turn to throw my arms out to encompass the world around us. “This.” I laugh. “This night. This weekend. This date. I don’t really know.”

“Then why did you start this with me, Mac? If you knew I wasn’t what you were looking for, then why start something you didn’t want to finish?”

I sigh. “I thought you were cute. Before I ever even saw you, it was… kind of… adorable.”

“You find my innermost thoughts adorable?” She makes a face, like she has a bad taste in her mouth. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

“It is,” I say, pulling her towards me, one arm around her shoulders. “I promise.” I take her beer and set it on the edge of the rectangular fire pit in front of us. “I’m getting used to you.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she says, pulling away.

“Stop,” I order. “And listen to me. I’m getting used to the idea that maybe a dream is not a lie. And all that stuff you said to Heath was… well, not exactly a dream. But a possibility. I don’t think you really liked Heath, did you?”

“I thought we were friends. And maybe some part of me thought he might fit into my delusional dream world. But did I really think I was marrying him? For real? No. It was an escape for me. I’ve been in a dry spell. I just needed to spice things up.”

“Well, I think you accomplished that.” We both laugh now, and I feel some of the tension ease out of her. “It certainly got my attention. And I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you were not the only woman from work who was texting him with delusions. Heath and Ellen—”

“No!” she exclaims. “Gross. She’s old enough to be his mother!”

“Hey, she’s quite the sexpot on screen. Heath had her in his phone as Ellie. So I was getting the messages from the two of you confused.”

“Oh, my God.” She laughs. “You thought—?” She bursts out with a guffaw.

“Yeah. I really thought you were the same person when I came on to you in the stairs. And I should apologize for that, but nah. I like the unexpected twist, Ellie. I’m very happy with how things are turning out for me. Even if you are on the other side of the ridiculous line and I’m standing over in the stodgy area of the relationship waiting room.”