“Yes,”she says, and the soundof the singer’s voice is getting faint, like she’s walkingaway from the stage. “When Mike hired us, he gave us a few freetickets. A couple of my girlfriends love him, so I brought themtonight.” She pauses. “I saw you, sitting with Sylvia. She’s now inthe front row, and Mike keeps staring at her while he sings. I’mguessing it’s another check in the success column forRent-A-Danny.”
“Yeah.”I lean against the wall andscuff my shoe against the floor.
“Listen,I was going to wait until Monday to talk about this,but since we’re on the phone… Ithink I should leave Rent-A-Danny.”
“What?”I straighten so quickly I get a head rush and squeeze my eyes shutwhile I wait for thespinning to stop.
“You don’tneed me, Danny. You never did. This, this is your swan song.”
“My what? I’mnot dying, Ronnie.”
“Oh, forGod’s sake. That’s not what I meant. Rent-A-Danny is your calling.It’s what you were meant to do. Now I need to gofigure out what I’msupposed to do.”
Uh-uh. No way.She’s not leaving me. Not like this.
“I’mnot having thisconversation over the phone,” I say, sounding far more like herthan, well, me. But it feels comfortable. As afraid as I am at themoment that I’m about to lose her forever, it’s nice to simplybe…whoever the hell I want to be.
“Danny,I can’t—”
“I’m at yourplace. Come talk to me in person.”
“You’re at myplace? Why?”
“I came to seeyou.”
“Why?”
I closemy eyes and grit my teeth. “Just come home.” And I thought I was the hardheaded onein our relationship.
“I’mhere with friends, Danny.Can’t we—?”
“No.Come home or…or I’llcall your mother.”
“And what?”She sounds amused.
“Andtell her I want you to have my babies.” Holy shit, it’s true.Jesus,I’ve never eventhought about having kids before, but yeah, I can totally see acouple of blond-haired, blue-eyed Frost-Harrisons running around,causing havoc. Maybe even three. Or four.
She gasps.“You wouldn’t!”
Ichuckle. “I’m not playing fair onthis, Ronnie. I need to talk to you. In person.Tonight.”
Itsounds like she growls, which makes me chuckle again.
“Fine. Let mego tell them I have to leave. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Comefaster,” I say, knowing the double entendre will sendher mind straight to thegutter, much to her own annoyance.
Shehuffs and then disconnects the call. I pass the time by logging into my email,figuring I’ll clear out my inbox. There’s one from her, and it hasan attachment. It’s a legal document, dissolving her ownership ofRent-A-Danny. She doesn’t even want any money out of it. Shaking myhead, I close the document and delete the email. And then I shootoff a text to my brother.
Just soyou know, if Ronnie and I don’t work out, you have to honor thefactthat we arebrothers and never, ever try to date her.
Heresponds: So you’reofficially dating now?
Iapparently don’t reply fast enough, because he sends anothertext:By theway, she’s not my type. And I’m happy for you, littlebro.
I stareat the words. Not his type? My brother’s type is female, and Ronniedefinitely qualifies. And then I roll my eyes, because what the hell am I thinking? I don’twant her to be his type. She’smytype, damn it.
Maybe ifyou ever find your type, we can double date, I finally respond.
