Page 40 of My So-Called Perfect Life

“That depends on why you’re here, Danielle,” I say as I close the door and turn back to her. “Are you going to accuse me of anything else? Did you catch a cold that I’m now somehow responsible for? Want to blame world hunger and war on me while we’re at it?”

Nibbling her lip, she looks up at me. “I guess I kind of deserve that, huh?”

I sit down at my desk. “What can I do for you, Danielle?”

She takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out of her nose. “I came here to apologize.”

“For which part: humiliating me in front of a full bar of customers, for puking all over me, or for the couch?”

Her cheeks and neck turn from pink to scarlet, probably from embarrassment. “All of the above,” she replies. “I was out of control and out of line. Obviously, I wasn’t in the best state of mind. I never should have come in here like that. I am so sorry if I got you into any kind of trouble with your boss.”

I can’t help but laugh. “The owner of this place can be a real prick, but I think I’m okay. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been getting shit from the bartenders. They’re never going to let me live this down. A few of the regulars who were here that night like to razz me about it. Overall, it could be worse.”

She exhales and her shoulders soften as though the weight she’s been carrying has been lifted. “That’s a relief. On the walk over here, my imagination was getting the better of me. I started to panic that I might have gotten you fired.”

“Don’t worry. My job security is pretty sound.”

Roxy pops her head in. “Stella’s out and we just got a rush. Can you change the Miller keg?”

I pop out of my seat. “You need help out there?”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered. Just change the keg.”

Danielle stands. “I should let you get back to work.”

I should let her go. She cleared the air, said what she had to say. I should let her walk out of here and close the chapter on this woman. She’s been nothing but drama. I’m about to tell her, “Sayonara, thanks for the memories and antibiotics,” but instead, “Why don’t you stay for a bit. We can grab a bite once I help with this rush,” comes out of my mouth.

Her face lights up for the first time since she arrived. “You want me to stay?”

“Sure. Just let me go change the keg and I’ll be right back.”

As I switch out the empty keg, I try to figure out what the hell just happened back there. I just invited the woman who gave me chlamydia to stay for a meal. Have I lost my damn mind? She was ready to leave . . . and I asked her to stay.

When I return to my office, she stands looking at some of the pictures I have hanging on the wall near my desk. “Is this you?” she asks pointing to a photo of me coming down a zipline in Panama back in college.

“Sure is.”

She points to a photo of me in my snowboarding gear two years back in Vail. “And this too?”

“Yep.”

As she turns back to me, there’s a smile on her lips, the first one I’ve seen on her face in a while. “You have some interesting hobbies.”

“I like adventure.”

Our eyes meet, I feel something—a spark. Maybe a zap. Definitely a jolt. Something draws me into her. I take a few steps inside the office, closing the door behind me. The desire to be closer to her seems to be growing in the pit of my stomach.

Her pretty brown eyes glitter as I cross the office toward her.

A moment later, Roxy comes back, breaking our . . . I don’t know what that was.

“A decent size bachelor party just walked in,” she pants as she’s running crazy out there. “With Stella not back for another thirty, I’m going to need a little help for the next half hour.”

I turn back and nod. “I’ll be right out.”

“I’ll let you go,” Danielle says stepping around me toward the door. “I just wanted to come here and apologize. I know that you didn’t give me chlamydia. I mean, I know that now,” she quickly adds. “I didn’t the other night. I got a letter in the mail from my fiancé’s—well,ex-fiancé’s—side piece, and apparently, he was doing more than the two of us.”

My heart goes out to her. I have a sister. I know guys can be real assholes. I’ve listened to Teresa cry over heartbreak more times than I wanted to growing up.