Page 31 of Off Script
Considering that he’s made no overtures to even talk to me since I moved to LA, I shouldn’t be surprised that my dad doesn’t want to see me during the holidays, but I am. Realizing that he doesn’t miss me is a bitter pill to swallow.
I’ve lost my appetite. I wrap up my lunch and throw it into a trash can.
When I settle back down on the bench, I call Harper.
“What took you so long to call me? I have been on pins and needles all day waiting to hear from you. Did you talk to Ben? What have you got for me? I’ll put you on speakerphone so I can add things the list we started last night.” Harper’s infectious enthusiasm is the perfect remedy to my brooding.
“Let me get a word in edgewise!”
“Sorry, sorry, but this is turning out to be more fun than I thought it would be.” Harper drops her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Do you think he could work for the CIA or something? Maybe he’s a spy and that’s why he can’t tell you his real identity. The name’s Bond, Ben Bond.”
“You’re such a dork, Harp.”
“Well aware. Now tell me what you learned about him,” she demands.
"I got kind of side-tracked when I spoke to him and forgot to get more details from him."
Harper harrumphs. "You know who wouldn't be a good spy? You! How did you lose sight of your mission, Car? C'mon. Surely you learned something new about the guy."
I wrack my brain. “He’s not a bartender anymore."
"Okay. What's he doing now?"
"No idea. Hedidn't say."
"Well, what did he say?" gripes Harper impatiently.
"Umm… he asked me out on a date. Sort of. I kind of held his feet to the fire, but that’s not important. What is important is that we’re going to meet up on Sunday for a day date!”
Excitement fills Harper's voice. “You should have led with that information, Carlisle!”
"I tried, but you wouldn't stop yapping."
“Your date is this Sunday? What are you going to wear?”
Good god, I hadn't even thought about what I am going to wear yet!
“No, the following Sunday. Like, nine days from now. The Sunday before Thanksgiving,” I clarify.
“Why wait? If you guys want to meet up, why not do it sooner? Like, this weekend?”
Valid questions. Ones I hadn’t considered last night because I was caught up in the excitement of Ben being willing to meet me at all.
Honestly, I probably would have agreed to a date a month from now if that was the day he offered.
“I don’t know,” I whine, feeling defensive. “He just threw out that day and I accepted. Maybe he’s busy until then?”
Harper responds, slowly drawing out each word. “He’s an unemployed bartender, yet he’s busy for the next nine days?”
“Maybe?” I squeak.
Damn, I really thought Harper would be excited for me, but she’s just stirring up more doubts.
Why does he need nine days to meet me?
11
Ben
