out of a burning car, he met your insufferable parents and didn’t punch them in the face. Then he comes in here looking sexy as hell to ask you out in person. And that note…”
Nina fake swoons and falls against the back of my office door. I can’t help cracking a smile.
“The note wasn’t bad,” I admit.
It’s hanging on my bulletin board right now, and my eyes roam over to it at least five times a day, if not more.
Dear Daphne,
Isn’t it funny
That because of my money
You refused me a date
But what if I’m great?
Even though you don’t know it
I can be a poet
And if you say yes
You can hear more of my poems...or less
Olivier
He wrote his phone number below his name. The note and flowers were delivered to the shelter last Tuesday at the end of the workday, and since I had a work event that night, I didn’t text him back until mid-morning Wednesday.
Me: Thanks for the flowers, they’re lovely. The poem made me smile.
I expected him to text back, but he never did.
“Don’t you think he would have texted me back if he was still interested?” I ask Nina.
“You should text him again.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“He didn’t send you the flowers and note, with his number, because he planned to ignore you,” Nina says, moving to sit down in the folding chair.
“Well, he is ignoring me,” I say with a shrug. “It’s been a week and I haven’t heard back. Maybe he googled me and found out I got arrested at a protest once.”
Nina quirks a brow. “Did you really? And did I know that?”
“I don’t know. I told Ty before he hired me, though. It was a protest over the murder of a trans person not being properly investigated.”
“Oh God, how terrible.”
“It was.”
“I’m just saying that you should call his office, maybe. What if he dropped his phone in the toilet and had to get a new number?”
I give her a wry look. “Why would he have to get a new number?”
She throws her hands in the air. “This can’t be the end of it. I’m invested in hashtag Olidaph, and a lot of other people are, too.”
Smiling, I say, “I texted him, Nina. I’m not interested in a serious relationship so soon after my broken engagement, but I probably would’ve had dinner with him if he asked again. He’s over it, though. Let’s move on.”
“I just think—”
I’m saved by a knock on the door of my office. Ty opens the door and says, “Daph, your boyfriend’s here.”
I groan. That’s what he calls Ray. I left two pairs of socks and a candy bar in his tent when I was delivering supplies last week.
“I’ll be right out,” I tell Ty.
“You want me to stay with you?”
Ty always offers to be close by when Ray comes in to see me, because Ray does and says inappropriate things. I had to learn to assert myself with him early on.
“No, I’m good, but thanks,” I say.
Nina gives me a look as she walks out of my office, saying, “We’re not done talking about the French hottie.”
We are done, but I don’t say so. Olivier not returning my text told me everything I need to know about him. He had lost interest in me by the end of the day he sent the flowers. When Aiden admitted to cheating on me, he told me he met a waitress at a restaurant one day and screwed her that very night. That’s how long it takes to lose a man’s attention. Been there, done that.
“Hi Ray,” I say as I walk into the Safe Harbor lobby.
“Daphne!” he cries, opening his arms.
He’s a small man without teeth or hair. Looks like a sweet little grandpa, until you get within two feet of him.
“Ray,” I say, putting a hand out in front of me. “You only get to hug me if your hands stay on my back and your mouth doesn’t touch any part of me.”
“Aw, come on! Gimme some sugar!”
He comes toward me, and I dart behind the front desk, moving the wheeled chair to block his access to me.
“I mean it. You can’t grab me inappropriately, Ray,” I say firmly. “If you do, you won’t be allowed in here anymore.”
“I just wanted a hug.”
He’s filthy. I can smell him from ten feet away, and his face and neck are caked with dirt. I remind myself he’s mentally ill and doesn’t process things the same way others do.
“If I give you a