Page 8 of Melting His Frozen Heart

“I’m not about to let you take the subway. I’ll drive you home. Where do you live?”

“I live with my aunt and uncle in Brooklyn, Mr. Embry. You don’t have to drive me all the way out there,” I tell him, not wanting him to feel obligated.

“Nonsense!” he scoffs. “And, by the way, please call me George. After all, we both sweated through that pizza together. We’re hardly strangers.”

He has a point. My tongue is still burning!

When we arrive at my uncle’s, the lights are out except for the light at the entry. George surveys the site. “Looks like everyone’s called it a night.” He unhooks his seatbelt. “Let me walk you to the door.”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “No need. I certainly don’t want to disturb our dog, Gracie. She’ll wake the whole house up if she hears a stranger.”

“A living alarm system,” he says with a smile. “I miss having a dog. I haven’t had one since I was a boy.”

He seems off in his own thoughts for a moment. I open the car door and get out. “Thank you for dinner…George. I’ll see you at five on Wednesday.”

After I shut the car door, he pulls away into the night, the taillights of his car fading into the distance. As I unlock the front door to let myself in, I’m glad everyone is in bed. Somehow, I think Uncle Owen would not approve of my meeting with George, especially dinner and him driving me home. No doubt I’ll receive the third degree in the morning. Tomorrow might be a good day to sleep in.

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