The Checklist, Addie Woolridge [ebook reader for pc and android txt] 📗

“Beyond demanding he run his next cockamamie idea by me? No. Besides, by Kaplan standards this is a relatively cataclysmic failure. I’ll be lucky to be employed come Monday.”

“Cockamamie, huh? If I’m a Capri Sun–wielding soccer dad, you are someone’s grandmother.” Mike’s smile was gentle. “But really, I don’t think you’re out on your ass over this.”

“Well, that’s kind of you, if not unrealistically optimistic,” Dylan said, taking a big gulp of her latte. “The share prices did dip on Friday, after all.”

“No, really, if they were going to dismiss you, I feel like they would have done it by now, if for no other reason than to find a scapegoat to stem the blood flow and restore investor confidence or whatever. But everyone knows Tim is difficult, so I suspect the powers that be don’t think sacrificing you is the answer.” Mike looked at her like this was the most obvious conclusion, then started to crunch the ice in his glass like his parents hadn’t paid for braces.

“I think you might be giving the wheels of bureaucracy too much credit. But since it’s reassuring, I’ll take it.”

Mike laughed. “Fine. So outside of work, what else?”

“What else?” Dylan repeated, drumming her fingers on the table, dredging up the visit she had almost forgotten. “My boyfriend is coming to Seattle.”

Dylan watched Mike’s eyes narrow briefly when she mentioned Nicolas. A small part of her mind cracked with disappointment, even if being honest was for the best.

Mike’s expression recovered quickly, and he said, “That’s exciting. When?”

“In a week. His ticket is part of my benefits. Don’t want to waste free airfare.” Dylan wondered if the amount of perky she was pouring on was too much.

“It’s nice they give you a visitor ticket while you are working away from home. Any big plans while he is up here?” Mike took the opportunity to crunch another piece of ice.

“He hasn’t met my parents or sisters before. I’m hoping he’ll change his mind about being outdoors and we can hike with my family. I’m sure you remember my dad flyering your house over the Olympic National Forest.”

“Ma had a cow.” Mike smirked. “How long have you all been together?”

“We met in college.” His head quirked up fast, the skepticism rolling off him. “But we didn’t start dating seriously until four years ago. Lived together for three,” she rushed on, watching his head move slowly back to center, his eyebrows still near his hairline. “What I like about him is that he understands how important structure and routine are for me. Like, once I mentioned how having to run across town to pick up this dress I’d had altered for his firm’s holiday party was going to throw off my entire schedule for the day. He just went and picked it up for me. Didn’t even mention it—just texted me a picture of him holding the dress at the tailor’s shop.”

Mike leaned back against the seat cushion and nodded affably. “That’s nice. But I’m hung up on the fact that you’ve lived together for three years and he hasn’t met your parents. That seems . . .” Mike paused, searching for a word as he studied the remaining ice in his cup. “Unusual.”

“Well, yes. But if you think I work a lot, you should see his schedule. He’s a divorce attorney.”

“That would keep you busy. Do you usually spend holidays in Texas?” Mike’s forehead relaxed, but he managed to hold on to the quizzical expression.

“Mostly. His family is there, so it’s easier to skip the whole airport thing. They are big fans of cruises to the Caribbean.” Dylan shivered. She could probably live the rest of her life without setting foot in the Galveston port again.

“And you want to go on the same cruise every year?” Mike asked, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

Dylan waited a beat to answer, squirming in her chair. “Okay, no. I hate cruises. They are like giant, roving, highly orchestrated germs.” Mike’s chuckle seemed to fill up the entire restaurant. “Don’t laugh. They’re weird.”

“Have you ever considered telling him you hate cruises?” Mike said, his lips maintaining a hint of a smile as he crunched more ice.

“God, no,” Dylan said, but she regretted her honesty as Mike tilted his chin at her. She began to circle her hands as she worked through the crashing explanations in her brain. Years of being lost in foreign countries while her parents drove on the wrong side of the road should have made Dylan appreciate a cruise. However, it had had the opposite effect. Worse, Nicolas had no framework for understanding her boredom. He’d probably take it personally, so instead, she spent one week a year trying to convince herself to like cruises. It mostly worked. Looking up from her relationship analysis, Dylan found Mike still waiting. “Meh, it’s not worth the fight.”

“If it works for you, I can’t judge. I’m not seeing anyone, let alone living with them. But I didn’t live with my last girlfriend, and I still met her parents.” Mike sighed, shaking his head and smiling. “In fact, they took the breakup harder than she did. They still send me Christmas cards.”

“If my parents could get it together to send Christmas cards, which they can’t, I suspect none of our exes would make the list.”

Mike fixed his gaze on her. “Before we take apart your parents’ holiday traditions, I want to go back. What do your parents think of him finally visiting? Have you informed Henry he won’t be hiking?”

“Let’s not talk about Bernice’s feelings on the capitalist-industrial divorce complex or the fact that my father may be planning to throw mud at him.” Dylan was pleased to see Mike chuckling at her blatant attempt to change the subject. She laughed, but the thought of trying to get her parents to behave with Nicolas was more terrifying than trying to get Nicolas to book his ticket to Seattle.

“Back to our