Third, and most maddening, was the gnawing ache still festering in her gut. Winn had a girlfriend. A gorgeous girlfriend who had cornered her in a hospital hallway and threatened to ruin her life. Ivy could still hear her voice, dripping with venom. It replayed in her mind, mocking her.
Speaking of Steve—he had called her up after work. Against her better judgment, she agreed to meet. Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe she just needed to hear a familiar voice. They met at a roadside barbecue shop.
They bought skewers of roasted beef, spicy chicken wings, and walked side by side through the evening streets, their hands brushing once, then retreating.
"Please don't tell me this counts as a date," Steve said, biting into a skewer.
"It is a date. There's food, there's conversation." Ivy argued.
