Isn’t that unfortunate?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rod
“Oh, hello, Rod. I’m sorry I didn’t see you standing there. We must’ve been deeper in conversation than I realized. Do you two know each other?” She gestures toward her date, who looks like a poor man’s version of a short-haired Keanu Reeves, as if I have any interest in meeting him. But I can play along with the best of them.
“No, I don’t think we’ve met. Rod Stone.” I extend my hand to shake his.
“Rod is the uncle of one of my students.” Daisy’s color commentary feels like a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped over my head. I didn’t expect her to introduce me as the love of her life, the one who got away, the one she’s still pining for, but being relegated to a student’s distant kin is a sucker punch to the gut.
“Cam Brooks. Nice to meet you.” He takes my proffered hand with a smile, not the least bit intimidated by my intrusion on their date.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I wanted to make sure you received the message I left with Glenna. If you have time soon, I think it’d be best if we had that parent-teacher conference you mentioned so we can discuss it.”
“Yes, I’d be glad to talk with you about Isa. Whatever day and time is convenient for you is fine with me. My after-school schedule is open for the next couple of weeks.”
“Would it be possible for you to come to my house tomorrow evening around six? It’s unorthodox, I know, but Isabelle’s mother wants to be part of the discussion. With her health concerns, she only leaves home when she goes to the doctor. You’re welcome to bring your son, though. He and Isa can play together while we talk.”
“That’s not a problem at all. I’m happy to help, and I’m looking forward to meeting Isa’s mother. Isa talks about her a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow at six then.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it. Enjoy your dinner.” I nod at Cam and walk away, taking Daisy’s polite hint.
I’ll see you tomorrow at six then. That was a gracious way of dismissing me from the table so she could get back to flirting with her date.
When I walk out to my car, the cold late November rain drizzles, leaving a chill in the air that permeates my jacket with its bite. From the looks of their plates, they should finish dinner soon. Unless they linger over dessert and drinks, casting longing glances over their wine goblets until they decide to finish in a more private setting.
My imagination hits the overdrive button and goes from zero to one-sixty in three seconds.
If my car were that fast, I’d lose my license within a week, but somehow there’s nothing in place to regulate my overactive mind. The stupid things I do are my fault, one hundred percent, but that doesn’t stop even when I recognize I’m doing them. Like right now, while I’m sitting in my car waiting for Daisy to come out of the restaurant so I can try to talk to her alone.
Now that the idea is stuck in my head, my tenacious personality won’t let me change course. I’ve had fight for every inch of progress I’ve ever made, overcoming the odds stacked against me every day of my life. Today’s challenge is no different, only the stakes. When I was young, I was fighting for the food on our table and the roof over our heads. Tonight, I’m fighting for the one I’m sure I’m supposed to be with, even if I don’t know how that’s supposed to work.
What I do know is seeing her with someone else only confirmed I’m in way too deep with her. It’s been weeks since we parted, since I sabotaged everything we’d built between us, and this feeling hasn’t subsided or even diminished. Every time I see her is harder than the last, because I know what I had and what I’m missing.
My ringing cell snaps me out of my Daisy-induced obsession. When I glance at the screen, I’m relieved to see Kevin’s name instead of Juliana’s. Every call from her jacks my heart rate up, waiting for more unwelcome news.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Are you busy, Rod? I need your advice on something.”
“I’m halfway between busy and not busy.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I’m sitting outside the restaurant waiting for Daisy’s date to end so I can talk to her.”
The line goes silent for several seconds. I know he’s still there. He needs time to process my blunt confession.
“Leave her alone, man. She’s way out of your league, and she deserves someone who will treat her like a queen. You’re not the man for her and you know it.”
Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong man.
Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself.
“What makes you say I’m not the man for her?” He may be right, but that statement stings coming from my best friend.
“Rod, I do not understand how you develop and nurture your business relationships the way you do. You can work the room, make people trust you with tens of millions of dollars, and seal deals when other companies can’t even get their foot in the door. Your clients love you.
“But you are clueless when it comes to how to treat women. What you did in Punta Cana was over the line, man. You don’t deserve a second chance with her. The sad part is, I think she’s kind enough to give you one. When she does, you’ll only use it to hurt her when she gets too close again. You’ll tuck your dick between your legs and run in the opposite direction like a scared little girl. Leave her alone and let her be happy.”
Now it’s my turn to sit here in stunned silence. The rain is coming down in solid sheets now with occasional gusts of wind to render umbrellas completely useless. Dark gray clouds cover the
