Page 130 of Cuts like a Knife
The back door opens and Drew steps out. He’s holding a box. It’s a phone. A really expensive, brand-new phone. We both watch as the car pulls away.
“Here,” he says, handing the box to me.
“You bought me a phone?”
“Me? No. It’s from Diana. She said to tell you not to be weird about it. Her exact words were, tell her she needs a phone and I have much more money than her, so she needn’t make a big deal about it. Your sisters have been blowing up my phone all weekend.”
“Really366?”
“Claire especially felt like there were things I should know.”
“Oh.”
“So.”
“So, are you still mad at me?” I ask.
“A little,” he admits. “Because you jumped off a yacht, then got lost on a pitch black highway, and didn’t seem to care that I thought you were dead. And besides that, you’ve been a total pain in the a— about dating in public.”
“Sorry.”
“But everybody knows now? You told your sisters?”
“Yeah. I guess the cats out of the bag.”
“Are you going to talk to me then? Finally? And stop acting like a crazy person?”
“I guess. I’ll try anyway. But I can’t right now. I have to get back inside. To work. Don’t you have to get to work? You should have made the car wait for you.”
“Nope. Don’t need it. I quit.”
“You quit what?”
“My job. This morning. First thing.”
“You quit your job? Seriously? Why? What are you going to do?”
“I was sick of it. It wasn’t working out. You know this. I’m going to go back to school. I got into an MA program for Political Science.”
“Shut up, you did not.”
“I tried to tell you about it. A bunch of times.”
“Guess I wasn’t listening,” I say, stepping closer to him. He’s not dressed in his usual suit, I notice. He’s in jeans and a cream sweater that sets off his dark hair and those green eyes. He picked up a tan in the Bahamas, and his skin has a beautiful warm glow. He looks happy and relaxed. He looks like he should be in a Ralph Lauren ad.
“Guess not,” he says.
“I’ve been a bit fat hairy d—head,” I say.
He nods. “I wouldn’t put it exactly that way, but yes. You been kind of difficult.”
“I’m going to stop now. Lex the d—head, deactivate! I’m going to be better, okay? I’m going to be good.”
“Good.”
“But I have to go back in to work now.”
“You sure about that?”
