Page 44 of A Bossy Roommate
“Fine, I was just trying to give our story more depth…”
“You love me, you moved to New York to be with me. Full stop. End of story.”
Eden puts her hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. If she asks, I can tell her why I’m attracted to you.”
“Exactly.”
Just when I want to move on from the subject, she starts listing, “I admire your determination, your bravery, and your resilience. It’s inspiring.”
I pause. My eyes find hers. I’m curious where she’s going with this.
“Yes, you never give up on anything, no matter how difficult it gets. I will talk about how I realized that you have many qualities that people don’t see from the get-go. If you want something, you go in full force. You’re driven and focused, and you’re not afraid to take risks, even when others doubt you. You’re not just a boss, you’re a leader. A true fighter. It shows in everything you do. I will talk about how much you care about your employees, even though it doesn’t seem like it from the outside. And you’re so giving, so generous, and always willing to help out those in need. You care deeply for people. It’s in your actions. It’s really impressive. And while you hide it all rather well because you’re in boss-mode almost twenty-four-seven, you do have an excited, playful side…”
I’m taken aback by her words and feel a strange mix of surprise wash over me. Her words don’t seem fake.
Is that how she really sees me?
Before I can lose myself in my thoughts, she props her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her hands, batting hereyelashes. “Now, what reasons did you give her as to why you were drawn to me?”
“I told her you were pretty, capable, and funny.”
She shrugs. “Well, all right… if you think she will buy plain vanilla compliments, so be it, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?”
“We’re married. We need to have terms of endearment. When I’m in a relationship, I don’t usually refer to my partner by his first name. Unless I’m angry.”
She has a point there. “I don’t like sweetheart,” I say.
“That’s fine. What about ‘hot lips?’”
“Don’t call me hot lips.”
“How about ‘sugar?’”
“No.”
“Okay…wait. What about ‘good-looking’ or, I got it: ‘babe?’”
I nod. “That works.”
“All right. What do you call me? How about ‘darling,’ or wait, wait, no. You call me ‘love.’”
I study her for a moment. Her expression says,Am I pushing this?She probably is. But my aunt will appreciate it. “Darling or love could work.”
She beams, picking up her wine again. “I like both of those. By the way, I’m not letting you off the hook.”
“Off the hook for what?”
“Off the hook for sharingsomethingabout yourself. Even if we can’t do it the normal human way. The last few days all you did was talk about your work and your motorcycles. I’d like more info on you. I should at least know your birthday, where you were born, and all of that.”
I’m not in the habit of being chummy with those I work around, with the exception of Bradley. Still, Aunt Eleanor is smart, and Eden’s right. She would find it strange if my wife didn’t know my birthday or much else about me.
“I’m thirty-eight years old, my birthday is August twelfth, I was born and raised right here in New York, and just like in your case, my parents passed away many years ago,” I list. Her expression is one of surprise as she realizes that I remember what she previously shared with me. “What else do you want to know?”
The waitress approaches our table with her tray, and we pause our conversation to accept our food. Eden hands her empty glasses to her, asking for a refill.
“Who’s the person you hold closest to your heart, besides your aunt?” she asks while we start eating.