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Doug recoiled, rubbing his middle. “Well, maybe it’s too late for the CFO. Look who Mom’s bringing this way.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Mom walking toward me with a stiff in a suit, and I turned back to beg Doug and Anthea to hide me.
Of course they were walking the other direction.
“Beatrice!” Mom said. “I’m happy I found you. I wanted to introduce you to Walter Walters.”
Keep your face straight, Birdie. Keep your face straight.
“Hi there,” he said, extending his hand.
His sweaty hand, I discovered as I shook it. He extended a rum and Coke, and I glared toward the bar at Dad. So he was in on the setup too. Now I knew why Mother was so adamant I come to the party.
Mom smiled between the two of us like we were the Sistine chapel and she was Michelangelo. “I’ll let you two get to know each other.”
She walked away, and I took a long drink of the rum and Coke. Strong, just like I needed.
Walter cleared his throat. “So, you teach?”
“I’m a guidance counselor.”
“Oh.”
I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see this awkward encounter it would cease to exist. But when I opened my eyes, there he was, thinning hairline and all. How old was he? Forty?
But then I remembered someone else who was older and realized age didn’t matter at all. No, it was just Walter. We were a minute in and had about as much chemistry as water and oil.
“You work with my dad,” I said.
“I’m an executive account director.”
“Oh. Nice.” I only knew what that meant from many boring family dinners. It was a position Dad gave people to test them before moving up to a higher position. They must really want me to marry this guy if he was doing that well in the company.
“What do you do for fun, Beatrice?”
“Actually, it’s Birdie,” I said. “I like to bird watch. Go to the beach.”
He shuddered. “I hate sand. It gets everywhere.”
“And I’m assuming you don’t like birds either.”
“Birds?” he said. “Have you ever seen the movie?”
I rolled my eyes so hard I could see my brain. Ihatedthat movie. Gave birds a bad name. “And I’m assuming you like cats?”
“In fact, I am more of a cat person.” He smiled like he’d passed some sort of a test. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“You know house cats have more than halved the bird population?”
“No, I—”
“Sorry, Walter, I’m not feeling well.” I lifted my glass. “Thanks for the drink,” I said and walked away, hoping the driver was ready to take me away from this place that never felt like home.
17
COHEN
The bar closed early on Sunday nights, so I went straight from Collie’s to Seaton Bakery, hoping my surrogate parents would have some advice on what to do with Ollie.