Page 4 of Keeping the Score

“I don’t know. I have training most of the day.”

“Maybe you could do it Friday?”

I consider that. At length. The last thing I want to do is go to an awards dinner where I’ll sit around eating rubber chickenwith people I don’t know. I also despise changing my schedule. “Maybe. What do I get in return?”

She taps a forefinger to the center of her chin and looks skyward. Cute. “Hmmm. How about my special beer meatballs?”

She made these for me once before and I loved them. The meatballs are cooked for hours in equal parts ketchup and beer. It sounds gross but it’s really delicious. Apparently, her mom used to make them.

I sigh. “More food. When are you going to start trading sexual favors?”

Again, she laughs at my cheesy flirting.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it.”

Wait, did I just agree to it? The words somehow popped out of my mouth. Goddammit.

“Thank you!” She claps her hands together and her relief and glee make my heart trip. “I really appreciate it.”

“You know I’m here for you.”

“I know.” She beams a smile.

“Do I need to wear a tux?”

“Do you even have a tux?”

“Of course I have a tux. Once a year I wear it for some charity event the team puts on.”

“Oh. Okay, well, no, it’s not that fancy. A suit is fine.”

“Okay.”

“Wait. Do you have a normal suit?”

I give her an offended look. “What does that mean? My suits aren’t normal?”

“Please. You dress only slightly tamer than A$AP Rocky.”

“That’s an egregious exaggeration. I have never worn a kilt.”

“True. Just please don’t wear that red plaid suit.”

“I love that suit.”

“I know, and it would be great for a Christmas party, but this is an awards dinner.”

“I dunno, Marsh. If you want me to do you a favor, I don’t think you’re in any position to criticize my wardrobe.”

“You’re right.” She nods, abashed. “Wear whatever you want.”

I can tell she doesn’t mean that. “The leopard-print jacket is pretty sick. It looks great with black pants.”

She nods, feigning enthusiasm.

I laugh. “Okay. What time should I pick you up?”

“We live next door to each other. I’ll meet you at the elevator at five-thirty. I’ll call an Uber.”

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