“Ryan, we need to talk,” I said on his answering machine.
I thought it was best to at least give him a warning that something was seriously wrong. He got the message because he immediately called me back and made plans to come over. Of course, he brought Elliott.
“Hello beautiful,”
he said as I opened the door. “What are you making for dinner?” Elliott, the complete goofball that he was, stumbled into my apartment and
ran into my bedroom to play with Blondie.
“Hello to you too,
Elliott,” I patted the big greyhound on the back as he sped by. “Let’s sit down and talk for
a minute.”
“Great. I wanted
to tell you about something,” he sounded exceedingly excited. “Get this. I saw an ad today
about an open audition," he stated with a twinkle in his eyes. You’ll never believe it -- for a paint commercial
looking for – are you ready? A dog. I immediately thought of Blondie.”
“Really?” Just
like that, I forgot about breaking up with him. He had my number. “You think
she could be in a commercial?”
“Why not? It says
open casting call,” he handed me the ad, carefully cut out for me. Then he totally surprised me by asking to cook. Granted, he didn't bring anything to cook with but at least he offered.
“Let me make dinner tonight for you. Do you
have any pasta? It’s my turn to cook for a change.”
Oh my God. Was he reading my mind? Maybe there was a
chance, despite our age difference.
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