THE PSO (Phone Sex Operator)

Ice cream & A date

I sit cross-legged on the lounge part of our sofa. Zach would kill me if he knew I was in 'his' spot, but sod it, it's not like he'll find out. My partially melted ice cream sits on the table. I can't wait to finally eat it, but I'm holding off until after my call with Nate.

He's a bit late but I don't mind.

My eyes roam over my phone placed on the cushion in front of me. I tap my fingers against my knee.

A few more minutes go past.

And then a few more. I pick at the skin around my nails.

More time passes. He's half hour late, and I'm starting to think he's a no show.

Just like before, I'm disappointed.

Also, just like before, I don't blame him.

Not once, but twice now, I've let him down. On top of that, I'm losing clients to stupid mistakes. It's a big blow to my confidence and I lean forward, bending in half as I face-plant the sofa.

"Ow," I mumble into the cushion. The corner of my phone digs into my cheek but I still don't move. I was having a bad day.

Hell, a bad week.

Sighing heavily, I wonder why I'm so affected by this man. Because he showed me some basic, human kindness? Are my standards that low?

I think of my ex, of my choice in men, and decide, yeah okay they probably are, to be fair.

Fuck it.

At least I have my ice cream. My one source of happiness right now – and it's all mine.

Straightening up, I grab the tub. It's a bit squishy and wet, indicating just how much it had melted, but I don't mind. It'll taste just as delicious anyway.

 I stir it, making sure to capture a chunk of cookie dough before bringing it to my lips. I'm finally about to take a bite when my phone rings.

Nate? I think, excitement returning.

It's quickly extinguished like a candle flame when I notice it isn't my work phone ringing; it's coming from my personal one.

Shit.

Zach.

Once again abandoning my ice cream – I will get to eat it, dammit - I reach behind me where I'd lazily thrown my jacket on the back of the couch. I fish my phone from my pocket, double check the caller, and then answer it.

"What wrong?" I ask immediately. It was too soon for him to be calling.

"It was going so well, Sarah," Zach sniffs. The sound has me boiling with anger. What the fuck did Danny do? I'll kill him. "He was being so sweet, it was just like old times, like he'd never even left. Then I notice he keeps looking over my shoulder and I'm like, hell no is my date checking out some other piece of ass, so I look and-and Pig-face is sitting there with his girlfriend!" Zach cries, distraught. He gives a small hiccup. "She's actually really pretty, by the way. Way out of his league."

"Zach, focus." I'm already on my feet, phone trapped between my ear and shoulder as I shrug my jacket back on. "Where are you now?"

"I'm in the bathroom. Crying," he sobs. "As if things weren't bad enough, I've become a shitty movie cliché'."

"I'm coming to you now. Just stay where you are."

   --

Kathy's pizzeria is a fancy place.