The Proposal(61)
Oops. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“What do you mean? You didn’t think you were going to like my friends?”
She dodged that question.
“You didn’t tell me Alexa is black!”
He froze, halfway through backing out of his parking spot.
“Seriously? I didn’t?” He laughed. “I was just going to say that I’m sure I told you that, but then, I’m sure that’s the kind of thing you’d remember.”
She looked at him sideways, her eyebrows sky-high.
“You’re absolutely right; I would have.”
He shook his head as he drove the short distance to her apartment.
“I can’t believe that. I’m sorry.” He put his hand on her knee and smiled at her. “I guess I’m going to have to find a way to make that up to you, aren’t I?”
She smiled back at him.
“Well, I did have plenty of rosé this evening.”
Chapter Fifteen
. . . . . . .
Wednesday night after work, Carlos drove straight to Angela’s apartment. The last time he was there he’d noticed that her cheap IKEA bookshelf was falling apart, so he’d bought her a new good one. He called when he was outside of her house.
“Hey!” she said when she answered the phone. “Did those million messages in the family group text drive you as crazy as it did me?”
He laughed and got out of the car.
“Oh my God, Angie—I checked my phone after a few hours of seeing patients and panicked because I had thirty-five new messages, but they were just Mom, Tia Eva, and Jessie all talking about Popsicles? What was even happening there?”
Angela sighed.
“I know! I’m sure Jessie’s going stir-crazy, but that made even me want to yell at her.”
Carlos popped open his trunk.
“Please tell her not to do that again. I know you’ll get mad at me if I say it. But also, come open the door. I’m here.”
He hung up the phone and lifted the box with her new bookshelf in it out of his trunk. He was at the front door of her building just as she opened it.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming over tonight.”
He walked past her to the elevator.
“Do you have a hot date? I hope so.”
She rolled her eyes as they got in the elevator.
“No, but good try. Just making dinner and getting some work done tonight. What’s in that box?”
He followed her out of the elevator to her apartment.
“A new bookshelf. That old one of yours has got to go, and I knew if you bought yourself one you’d just make me put it together anyway, so I figured I’d do it on my own schedule.”
“You bought me a bookshelf?” She opened the door for him. The smell of garlic wafted toward him. “And you’re putting it together for me tonight? What did I do to deserve this?”
He set the box down on her living room floor and pulled it open.
“Probably very little. Where’s that toolbox I bought you?”
She went to her hall closet and took the toolbox off of a shelf there. When he opened it, he was thrilled to see that things were all in the wrong places. She must have actually used it since the last time he was here.
“Do you want a beer? I have wine, but you always get all fussy about my wine, so I’m not even going to offer it to you this time.”
He definitely couldn’t have rosé around his sister.
“Yes, please.” He slid all of the shelves out of the box and glanced at the instruction manual. This shouldn’t take too long.
“Here.” She handed him a beer and looked over the pile of wood and wood-like materials on her living room floor. “This looks like it’ll be bigger and less flimsy than the one I had. Thanks, Carlos.”
“No problem.” He opened the little bag of screws and reached for a screwdriver. He should have bought Angie an electric screwdriver along with this tool kit. Oh well, now he knew what he’d get her for Christmas. “Are you still in the middle of cooking, or can you hang out and talk to me while I do this?”
She sat down on her easy chair and set a glass of wine on the table next to her.
“I put a roast chicken in the oven like thirty minutes ago, so I have plenty of time. If you want dinner to reward you after you’re done, I’ll have plenty of food once it’s done cooking.”
He screwed the side of the bookshelf to the bottom and grinned at her.
“Oooh, are you making those crispy potatoes to go along with it? I love those things. I could eat a million of them.”
She shook her head and sighed. “Unfortunately, I am. I guess I won’t have any potatoes left over for lunch tomorrow.”
He picked up the other side and fitted a screw into the bottom of the bookcase.
“You definitely won’t. You’ll barely have enough for yourself.”
She took a sip of her wine and watched him for a few minutes.
“Come on, you can tell me about your new girlfriend. I know you have one; I can sense it. I promise I won’t tell Mama if you tell me!”
Of course. He should have known that as soon as she got him alone she would quiz him about that.