I had to contact Gabriel. At least if I tried and nothing came of it, I could try my hardest to put it behind me. The only issue was that so much time had passed. Why would I be calling him now after not reaching out for three weeks? I didn’t want to scare him away, not that a former one-night-stand unable to let things go was scarier than a mob prince.
I sat in silence for a moment, trying to ponder a good enough reason when it smacked me. I first met Gabriel at my business, so that was my in. I opened a new text to Gabriel and started to type with professionalism and intent.
Hello, Gabriel.
Shit. No. Gabriel? Gabe? Mr. Varasso? If I was pretending to just be making a service call, some more formality was required. I erased that and started again.
Hello Mr. Varasso.
Nope, that’s dumb. He knows that we’re more than just a service and client. We fucking slept together. I can at least use his name. I tried once more.
Hello Gabriel.
I noticed on your paperwork that
it’s been about three weeks since
your last session. Given your
state last I
I? Or should I say we like the business? “Knock it off, Stacy!” I yelled at myself.
Hello, Gabriel.
I noticed on your paperwork that
it’s been three weeks since
your last session. Given the
state last I saw you in, it would
probably do you some good to
have a follow-up session. Let
me know when you’re available,
and I can get something on my
schedule.
“That totally sounds professional,” I assured myself out loud. I was reading over the text, contemplating whether or not it made more sense to just call when a text came in from my mom. It made me jump and, by accident, I hit send.
“Well, shit.”
No better way to find out how my text read.
No response came. I kept trying to convince myself that he was just busy, or maybe he was indisposed for the moment, but as each additional minute ticked by, I became less and less convinced that he would reply. I was just about to give up, go into my contacts, and delete his number when my phone buzzed in my hand.
I don’t really have the time.
For some reason, that response pissed me off. Who did he think he was? He was the one who called me nonstop and chased me down outside a restaurant to beg for a second chance. Now he was responding to me with an obvious lie like I was just some girl who couldn’t get over a guy she liked?
I angrily pressed the phone button to call him. When I heard the line pick up, I didn’t wait for him to say anything.
“Bullshit, you don’t have time. What were you up to when you found the time to call me over and over? Did you suddenly get really busy after that? After you had the time to run me down outside of Surento’s? I’m not some cheap chick, Gabriel. You don’t just get to—”