Olivia
3:48 – Thursday Afternoon
“Just text the ingredients, Olivia,” Nick said into my ear as I drove to the warehouse.
“I’ll bring them,” I returned.
“Babe, I’m goin’ to the grocery store before I hit home.”
“And I have to drive to your place before I hit your home so I can stop by the grocery store.”
“No need for us both to go.”
This was true.
“You’re always feeding me,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s the rule. Your ass is in my house, I feed you.”
I made a turn, muttering, “You have a lot of rules.”
“My ass is in your house, you make the rules.”
It was only the second time in our time together he’d mentioned being at my house.
I felt a thrill at the very thought.
Then it felt like I hit a wall with a painful thud when I remembered that’d never happen.
“Maybe we should chat about that later,” I murmured before saying louder, “But I’m making dessert tonight and I’m buying the ingredients for the dessert I’m making.”
“Fuck, got another call comin’ in that I gotta take so I can’t continue this stupid fuckin’ argument with you,” he replied semi-distractedly.
“Which means I’m bringing dessert.”
“Whatever. Six?”
“Six, Sebring. See you then.”
“Later, Olivia.”
We hung up.
I saw the warehouse and felt my stomach go from warm and happy at talking with Nick to roiling with sick.
It was the first time I’d been back since the whole thing went down with David. This was because it was easier doing David’s job at his office in the Denver Technical Center, known by locals such as myself as DTC. It was also because I hated the warehouse and I hated my father, who only had one office, that being in the warehouse. Therefore working elsewhere I could avoid him a lot easier.
I was parking in the spot that had my name on it when my phone rang again.
I looked to it in hopes Nick was done with his other call and had called me back so we could continue our ridiculous fucking argument about dessert.
It wasn’t Nick.
It was Dustin, the fixup my mother perpetrated.
I sighed.
Dustin and I had spoken, just enough for him not to share with his mother (who would share with my mother) that I was blowing him off, not enough for me to actually fix a date with him.