Page 27 of Flirtasaurus
Damn, that certainly escalated quickly. Definitely my cue to go. I make my move toward the door.
“Nice to meet you, Otto. Bye-bye now.”
“Oh-ho ho, I’m joking with you, kid! I’m not one of those cranky old folks who talk about the old days like they were the only days worth having. Believe me. That’s a bunch of baloney bunk and horse hockey hooey if you ask me. I’ve just always wanted to try saying that old chestnut: ‘Kids today. Bah!’ Now that I’ve said it, though, no need to do it again. You keep being young, girlfriend. No! Better yet, ‘You do you!’ as they say. They do say that, don’t they?”
“Sometimes, I guess. They sometimes say that.”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard them say that. So. Where we headed?”
I notice then that he’s packed up his book and stool and is shuffling alongside me as though we’re old pals.
“We?”
“Yeah. You’re a feisty one. I could use more feisty fitzies in my life.”
That phrase stops me in my tracks.
“Why did you, um… What did you just call me?”
“A feisty fitzie?”
“Yeah. Why did you call me that?”
“Oh. Habit, I guess. Always used to call my wife that. She was a FitzPatrick.”
“Hm. Funny. I’m a FitzGerald.”
“Well, will you look at that! I knew I liked you. Gotta love those Irish gals. I’d follow a feisty Irish gal anywhere.”
Chapter Seven
And follow me, he does. All the way up to the fifth floor to pick up the last few boxes of gala invites—looks like I have quite the action-packed evening of envelope stuffing and stamp licking ahead of me tonight, joy!—and then back down to the cafeteria where I was planning on having a late afternoon solo snack to fill my belly with free food before heading home. Keyword being solo. But apparently, I’m now part of a duo.
“A bit late for lunch, isn’t it?” Otto asks as we each grab a tray.
“Then let’s call it dinner.”
“A bit early for dinner, isn’t it?”
“How about linner then? Dunch?”
“Dunch! Dunch is good.”
“Great. We’re having dunch then. Whatever you call it, the important thing is that it is free.” I flash my trusty badge. “One of the perks of the internship. One I am not in a position to turn down.”
We start cruising the offerings, and I hear a smattering of “Hi, Otto” and “Otto, what’s up, man?” from the cafeteria staff. Damn, Damon was absolutely right about Otto’s street cred in this place. On our walk to the cafeteria alone, this guy received no fewer than seven fist bumps, five high fives, and three salutes from patrons and workers young and old alike. Then he wrapped up the mobile lovefest with an adorable bro hug between him and Jerry, the head of security. Bro-hugging Jerry was kind enough to get my badge souped up real nice, and I can now access any area of the museum I’d like, including Trix and Monty’s new home. The fact that I can spend time with them anytime I want feels unreal. Like I’ve won the lottery. Like my dreams are slowly but sort of steadily coming true.
As I slide my tray past the cashier with an easy breezy swipe of my badge, I hear a voice from the seating area. “Calliope! You made it!” I look over, and that Mabel girl is smiling and waving. She pats the chair next to her. “Saved you a seat!”
Oh God. I totally forgot I said I would have lunch with her, but then I got caught up and… “Mabel, hey! My gosh, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“For forgetting about our lunch plans.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I realized we never set a solid time, so I just waited. I figured you must just have a different internal food clock than me. No biggy. Glad you’re here now, though. Phew! I was getting hungry.”
She tears into her untouched cheeseburger and lets out a happy little moan.
