Page 27 of Lessons in Forgiving
“I’ve been getting better at prioritizing,” he said, a hint of amusement in the answer. “But that was off the record. If anyone asks, I’vealwaysbeen great at it.”
I wasn’t sure if the problem in our relationship had been prioritization generally or just prioritizing the wrong things. I shook my head regardless.
“If anyone asks,” I mirrored. “I won’t attest to that.” Pressing the button on my phone, I placed it on the table between us. “And everything’s on the record going forward.”
Once again, Eddie had been right. Scheduling the second interview in a less formal place was doing wonders already. I wasn’t on edge anymore; or at least only an appropriate amount for the fact I was interviewing my ex-boyfriend. It’s like I really was getting my footing, asserting myself. I felt lighter. More confident.
Maybe it was just the full notepad of questions staring back at me like a lifeline, but I’d like to believe I was getting used to conversing with Henry as if I wasn’t one right word away from falling back in love with him.
His green eyes flicked from the phone back up to meet mine. “I wanted to talk to you about that…scheduleyou sent, actually.”
The air quotes around the word confirmed he did not think it was a schedule at all.
Just because it didn’t have set dates yet?Please.
“Couldn’t imagine why,” I lied. The corner of his lip twitched before he could catch it.
“Paula,” he deadpanned. “It tells me nothing.”
“It tells yousomethings.”
His head shook, half amused, half exasperated. He was grinning now. Widely. “Not the things I need to know. Like when, and where, and who.” His brows rose with his, unfortunately valid, point. “’Interviewing friends’ isn’t really all that specific.”
“Because we haven’t spoken about when and where and who yet,” I countered. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to ask McCarthy for his opinion, would you?”
Admittedly, bringing up his biggest rival on and off the field was a low blow, and it did nothing to defuse the tension quickly building. He was eager to match my attitude.
He grimaced, tilted his head with a smile that dripped in irony and sarcasm. His next words flew from his lips. “Don’t you just know me so well, Charm?”
The nickname slipped out in the process. I knew it did. He did, too, though he pretended otherwise. Like he’d planned on bringing up every single memory attached to it.
Before I could linger too much on the good ones, I stirred in the opposite direction of that feeling.
“Clearly not well enough, or I’d be in your head, knowing when you’re free and where you’ll be at all times, so that I could get a finished schedule to you without discussing it first. Right?” I inhaled sharply, then noticed I kind of snapped the words.
I was hungry, and I was taking it out on this conversation. On him.
So much for professionalism.
“That would be the dream.” Henry’s brows rose at my tone. “But since that’s very unlikely, why don’t I just email you the times I’m free, and the best days for you to stick around?” Now his lips twitched into a satisfied smirk. I hated that I didn’t hate it. I hated that I kind of… liked it. Missed it. “You know. Like I had planned to.”
My cheeks were bright pink when I nodded. “Perfect.”
The situation was anything but—worse, once I remembered I’d have to transcribe the entire exchange later tonight. Though, while we were already on topic, I might as well get the rest of those pesky organizational details out of the way.
“I’d love to talk to Coach Hepburn, of course. What about teammates, though? Anyone come to mind who could give some insight?”
Henry nodded, thoughtful for a moment before he looked back at me. The force of his gaze on mine, unwavering and focused, suddenly made our surroundings so much more interesting.
No need to look into those green eyes when I could check out the pastries in the display case behind him. I wondered if any of the vegan ones were still available, when Henry said, “Sure.”
I purposely did not look his way, and like the universe was giving me an out, the bell above the door chimed—something else I could focus on that wasn’t Henry. He went on. “I’ll send the names over with the rest. What about— ?”
“Athalia.” His sister’s name slipped past my lips when I didn’t really mean it to.
“Yes! That’s what I was about to ask. Are you gonna talk to her?”
My head shook, eyes finally snapping back to him. “No.”Wait, he asked a different question.“I mean, yes. Would love to. But I meantAthalia!as in, she’s just walked through the door.”
