“An omission of the truth?” she supplies.
“Exactly.”
“That’s still a lie. You’ve been writing to Luca for years. Do you really want that hanging over your head if things get serious? And what if Luca is who you’re meant to be with? You don’t want to cheat on Husky Eyes with him. You need to be honest.”
“His name is Jake,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “I don’t think he’d take it very well. We both already said that we’re not seeing anyone else. We basically agreed that we’re exclusive.”
“You haven’t been dating that long.”
“You just want him to break up with me so that you can have a shot at him.”
“Gross. That ship has sailed. As soon as you two started dating, he became off-limits. Girl code, you know?”
“Either way, I don’t think it’s going to go as well as you think it is.”
“Maybe he’s a romantic.” She clasps her hands together and presses them against her cheek. “Maybe he’ll tell you to pursue your long-lost penemy.”
“I’m not sure that’s what I want.”
“Maybe he’ll be into it. Maybe you can have a threesome with them.”
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, and look over to see Patrick watching from the doorway. His face is red right up to his receding hairline.
“Wrong part of the conversation again, huh, Patrick?”
Anne’s eyes become so large they look like golf balls. She whips her head around to look at him and make sure I’m not messing with her.
“Jesus, Mr. Facey, did you steal my shoes or something?” she asks. “Normally I’m the one sneaking up on people.”
“I’m sure you have work to do, Anette,” he says.
She slides out of her chair, but I place my hand on her arm, stopping her. I’m fed up with him always pronouncing our names wrong.
“Anne,” I say, looking at Patrick.
Anne looks at him, and then they both stare at me expectantly.
“Excuse me?” Patrick says.
“Her name is Anne.”
He frowns. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“I must have misheard you. Can you say it again?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say her name correctly. I don’t know if it’s a weird power move or if he’s just really bad with names, but I want to force it out of him.
“Annie … Anna. Anette,” he stammers.
“None of those were correct. In fact, all of those are more syllables than her actual name.”
“It’s okay,” Anne says with a forced smile in my direction. “Mr. Facey can call me whatever he wants.”
“Anita,” he says.
“Anne,” I repeat loudly at the same time as Anne says, “Yeah, sure, that’s fine.”
He frowns. “Arnie?”
“Okay, now you’re throwing in an entirely different letter. What is the matter with you?”
