“Oh, add influential, rich, and interesting.” She paused, fork buried in salad. “Please tell me he’s at least interesting.”
“Of course, and he’s older than my father would have been.”
“Not bad, really.”
“It’s not a date, Pam.”
Pam rolled her eyes. “The salad, you goose. It’s not bad, as in pretty good, which means you should eat the chicken in it, instead of tossing it around with your fork. Besides, you need the protein—we’ve got shopping to do.”
Torie grinned at her enthusiasm, but resolved not to be steamrollered. She would not be going to the partner’s dinner as Mr. Pratt’s date.
“Now, it’s already settled,” Pam continued. “You need to party, girlfriend. You need to get out, forget about all this mayhem stuff, and get drunk. You’ve got cab fare and a new hotel room, okay? All you need is a dress. That we can fix. Miss Pam, she has her ways.” Wiggling her eyebrows, she continued to eat. Before Torie could protest once again, she changed the subject. Typical Pam tactics.
“So, let’s talk cars. Big or little?”
“Medium”
“SUV or sedan?”
“SUV, I guess, or something like the small Jeep. What do they call it? The Liberty?”
“Well, we are in the home of liberty, so that fits,” Pam joked. “Regular or hybrid?”
“Hybrid, if we can get one that’s cool.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, and big enough to handle the dogs.”
“You
Torie grinned, felt her heart lighten at the thought of Bear. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll change his name to Woolly Mammoth, or Woolly for short.”
“Ha! That’s good. So, we’ll hit car shops and talk about the house, okay?”
“About that…” Torie pulled out her notebook, flipped pages, and handed it to Pam.
“Damn, girl,” was all Pam said as she began reading.
They talked about the house as they finished lunch. Torie had decided it was time for a complete life change. She was going to fix her house, but the more she thought about the rental in Darby, the more she thought she might buy it.
Once she fixed her current house, it would sell easily. Society Hill was a favorite of young married yuppies and professional singles alike. With two dogs, she needed a yard like the first one on Bodia.
By six, she called a halt to the car shopping. They’d been to five dealerships, in between stopping to see Carlos and making a trip to the vet to visit the fast-recovering Pickle.
“I surrender,” she said, pretending to wave a flag. “Pam, I’m dying here. I have to have food.”
“Just one more. I wanna drive the Mercedes SUV. The shorter one.”
“Who’s buying this car, you or me?”
“You, but I’m the one having the fun here, I can tell,” Pam teased.
Her phone rang and she jumped, snatching it up to look at the caller ID. Her face betrayed the answer. It wasn’t Dev.
“Hey,” Pam answered with none of her usual bounce. “Got it, thanks!”
“No word then?”
“None.” Pam’s bright facade fell and Torie saw the hurt, worried woman underneath. “That was just a vendor.”
“Hey,” she murmured. “He’s smart and strong. He’ll be back.”
“Did you call his, I mean your, grandmother?”
“Great-grandmother, but yeah. I called.”
“And?”
“Nothing. I got the machine.”
“Oh.”
Into the silence, Torie’s phone rang. She, too, looked at the caller ID, but not with Pam’s enthusiasm. “Paul.”
“I’m right here for you, babe. Go for it.”
“Hello, Paul.”
She closed her eyes and listened as he asked where she was, when she’d be back, what she was doing. As if he really cared.
“I’ll be back to pick up my things. Is eight o’clock convenient?”
