9
My cell phone had been ringing for two days. After Lucas left I'd fallen into a bit of a funk. This wasn't like me. I was more prone to cause an outrageous scene or bluster my way through things than fall into a depression. But my mind was still tangled up in Lucas. I was a bit of a jerk for not accepting his apology. Although his version and reason for an apology was total crap.
I tossed my cell phone across the room and heard it slap the wall. Good. Maybe that would shut it up for awhile.
You know what? I was in the right for calling him out about it. A genuine, remorseful apology could go a long way to making amends with someone.
He had the choice to do that and instead only chose to come to me when his back was against the wall and he couldn't get something he wanted.
What a selfish prick.
But a handsome one.
I sighed.
And witty too.
Now why couldn't he have shown the gentlemanly side of himself when he showed up? If he had I might not have looked too hard and realized he was here under duress.
"Craaaaaaaaap!" I yelled out and covered my face with my hands.
I stepped around the kitchen counter and went to hunt for my ringing cell phone. It was Portia. If she told me to keep pursuing Lucas I was going to punch her in her pretty face. I picked it up right after the ringing stopped, relieved to see the screen hadn't cracked, and punched the screen to redial her.
"Grace." Portia answered. She sounded really annoyed. I guess I would have too.
"Hi, Portia!" I tried to sound out of breath than like I'd been eating potato chips over my kitchen sink. "So busy! I'm so sorry I haven't gotten back to you."
"You have a date. 6 p.m. Wear something nice. Brush your hair."
I held my cell phone out and stared at it like it had just tried to bite me. "Errrm. What?"
"You heard me."
"This had better not be with Lucas."
I could practically hear the line vibrating with hostility. "No." Her voice was clipped. "I'm sure you've done enough damage there to sever that line."
"What?" I burst out. "I didn't do anything except not take his crap!"
Portia sighed. "Dear Grace, don't you understand that being in a relationship means sorting through the crap and setting aside the stuff you can deal with and trashing the rest? You don't go big at first, Grace. You go small."
"This is not the Super Bowl, Portia!"
"Isn't it?" she asked.
"No. No it is not. I am not six foot tall and overpaid. I'm tiny and angry and tired of people's crap."
A long suffering exhalation of breath came across the line. "You are trying my patience, Grace."
"You set me up with an idiot, Portia. A cute one, yes. But an idiot nonetheless."
"Maybe so," she admitted. "But if you had maybe given just a little bit more, you might have seen something special in Lucas Marsh."
I counted to five in my head. "Who's the guy?" I barked.
I could hear the smile in her voice. "His name is Chuck."
My eyes rolled of my own volition. "Like nerdy secret agent Chuck from the tv show, or nerdy computer salesman and no cool job Chuck?"
