Page 62 of Love is Blind

I smile at the waiter.

“I’ll have one of those.”

“Great, I’ll put that in then come back to take your order.”

I hear Ghost clap his hands together and turn to face him.

“All right, so what do we want to start?” But before he can read off the list of appetizers, I say, “You don’t strike me as a margarita drinking kind of guy.”

“That’s because I’m not.” I bite the inside of my cheek and fold my hands on top of the table. He starts to read off the menu. At this rate, he’s going to get winded and that’s just him going over the appetizers.

“How about you surprise me?” I suggest. “I’ll try anything you order.”

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles.

The waiter returns with our drinks and Ghost gives him our order. We start with Mac’s Nachos. Ghost orders himself another beer. When the appetizer arrives, I’m halfway thru my margarita and Ghost orders me another. I guess it’s easier to get me drunk than it is to have a conversation with me. He was much more talkative last night.

I pluck a nacho from the plate he made for me and bring it to my mouth. Holding it there, I decide to give it one more go.

“So, Lucy…”

If I can’t get him talking, forget the margarita, bring me the bottle of tequila because this is almost painful.

“What about her?”

“We’re just going to pretend like you didn’t get me a guide dog?” I return, popping the corn chip into my mouth.

“The club owns a facility that trains service dogs, I’d be an asshole not to take advantage of that, especially when you mentioned having one. Plus, I don’t gather it’s too easy finding one that’s hypoallergenic. I asked Hawk, he happened to have one. It’s done.”

I stop chewing and swallow. In the midst of getting a job and him asking me out on a date, I forgot all about the lie.

“I have a confession to make.”

I hear him set his beer on the table and I scrunch my nose, trying my best to stall.

“Emmy isn’t allergic to dogs.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much.”

My eyes widen.

“You did?”

He sighs and responds, “When I left you last night, I went back to the clubhouse and told Hawk I needed a dog. I said it had to be hypoallergenic because Emmy’s allergic. Ink was there. He and your cousin are tight, I guess. Look on his face told me Emmy wasn’t allergic to shit.”

I cringe inwardly and lean my back against the vinyl booth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why lie?”

I pull in a deep breath trying to choose my words carefully. I didn’t want to tell him the truth about Oreo, not after he had shared his grief over losing his daughter. But I also didn’t want to tell him about my past. I still don’t feel ready to open that can of worms.

“You asked me why I didn’t bring Oreo to Knightdale,” I start. “Well, I didn’t bring him because he died. You had just told me about Abigail, and I thought it would be insensitive of me to tell you my dog died.”

Silence washes over us and a second later, Ghost covers my hand with his.

“One man’s loss doesn’t trump another’s.”

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