“Hey, isn't that Ty Masters?” Calvin cranes his head to see around me. “You two are real close, aren't you?”

I don't even have to turn to know it is Ty. I can read the crowd. Already people are murmuring to themselves. Some are picking up their phones and trying to surreptitiously photograph him. By the end of the night, a brave few will have asked him directly for a selfie. I take another bite of my steak. I love red meat. I don't know how Ty is living without it right now.

“We've known each other for a while,” I admit.

“When did you meet?”

“My freshman year.”

He peeks around me again. “Guess he's dating again. That was quick.”

My head whips around so fast I almost break my neck just in time to see Ty take a seat across from Kathleen. The buttery, rich flavor of the filet I just shoved in my mouth turns into a brick of paste.

Resolutely, I force another bite in my mouth so I can pretend that the sight of Ty with yet another beautiful woman doesn't twist my insides into knots.

“So how'd the two of you meet? You a big fan? A friend introduce you?” Calvin asks.

“We ran into each other my freshman year.” Literally. I change the subject. “How'd you think the test went?”

My dinner companion wrinkles his nose. “Not great, but then, does it really matter? It's our last semester. I'll be in my job before the grades even come out.”

“Oh, where are you working?”

“I've got a few things lined up. Nothing solid yet, but I'm working on it.” He winks at me. “Good thing about being in a fraternity is all the connections you make. One of my older brothers, who graduated last year, is helping me out with some gigs after I'm done here.”

“That's great.” I swirl some mashed potatoes around on my plate.

“How about you?”

“I'm waiting to hear from a gallery in Dallas.”

“Dallas, huh? That's pretty far away. Your dad hook you up?”

Inwardly I groan. He knows my dad? No wonder this dude asked me out in the last weeks before graduation.

I play innocent. “My dad? What do you mean?”

Calvin’s confidence falters. “Ah, isn't your dad Arthur von de Menthe?”

I chew on my meat for a moment, wondering how exactly to respond. Very few people know that Arthur von de Menthe is my father, mostly because my last name is Martin, which is also Dad's legal last name. The fancy Dutch-sounding one is his pseudonym.

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, isn't it common knowledge?” Calvin draws back in slight surprise. “I mean, he's come to campus before and people have seen you together. I didn't realize it was a secret. Is it a problem?”

“No. Not really. I was just surprised. Not many people know that Artie is my dad.”

“Artie? Is that what you call him?”

I nod.

“Is that how you know Ty? Some connection between your dad and the Masters family?”

“No.” This line of questioning is really strange, particularly for Calvin. “What line of job did you say you were getting into?”

He smiles and says, “Just some odd gigs set up by a friend.”

“What was your major?”

“English with a Communications minor. The Comparative Art class is my Fine Arts credit.”

“Huh.” Briefly, I wonder what ‘odd gigs’ go with an English and Communications major, but since my interest in Calvin is waning, I don't ask.

“It looks like the post by Ty's ex is a case of the green monster,” Calvin comments.

“No question. Ty's a good guy. She made all that stuff up to hurt him.”

“Do you think it will?”

“No. Because none of it's true.” Ty is convinced it will blow over, so I am, too. I still want to do something to get Rhyann back, like putting shellfish in her muffler to make it stink for days.

“What is the story there?” Calvin asks curiously. “I heard that his ex threw a pie in his face.”

“There was no pie.”

“You were there?” His eyebrows shoot up and his face becomes bright with interest.

This is weird. Calvin has shown more interest in Ty than he does in me. English plus Communications? Is he a…reporter? I toss my napkin on the table and grab my purse. “I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be back.”

* * *

Unlike the other day at the Row House, there's no helpful woman in the bathroom who I can share my dating woes with. On the plus side, there's no woman handing me her phone number on a paper towel to give to Ty.

Ordinarily, I'd text Ty for help, but he's with that woman. Fleur is over at her boyfriend's. Remy and Nichole are having dinner. I hate bothering either of them.

“Sorry, Fleur, but you're my roommate. This falls under the roomie contract, clause one.”

Me: Date is going downhill. Need a rescue.

There's no response. Not even the three little dots to signal she's thinking of replying and just hasn't managed to type it all out. I stare at the screen and will Fleur to answer. She doesn't.

I text Remy.

Me: Help. Bad date. Can u pretend u love me?

This time, I get an immediate reply.

Remy: Where's Ty

It's just not the one I want.

Me: He's out with the card girl. Kathleen.

Remy: Oh right forgot. did you text him, maybe he’s in same boat

He's not. He was smiling at her when I popped into the bathroom.

Me: Remy, you're my only hope.

Remy: Quoting Star Wars lines won't cut it. i'm busy here. nic and me are enjoying some alone time. get it?

Me: You're a terrible friend.

You: Ill still wear black on Wed w u

I burst out laughing at the Mean Girls reference. He sends me the shrugging emoji to signal the end of our conversation. I slap new lip gloss on and give myself a short pep talk.

“He's awkward and nervous and trying to ask you questions about your life. That's a helluva lot better than trying to talk about himself the entire dinner. Get it together, girl. You are not now or ever going to date Ty Masters. He's your friend. You made your peace with that years ago.”

The girl in the mirror smirks at me, so I leave.

And run right into Ty. I know it's him because my nose hits his breastbone and his shoulders blot out all the light.

I back away, rubbing my nose.

“Where did you come from?”

“There.” He jerks his head toward the door that says Gents.

“Oh.”

He doesn't respond, and a sense of discomfort slithers down my spine. I look to the right and then the left and then down at our feet. He's wearing the black boots with the orange lining—not that the lining can be seen, but I know that it exists because I was there when he bought them.

“Are you dating that guy now?”

I jump a little at the harsh tone in his voice. “Who? Calvin? No.” He caught me in a moment of weakness, but I don’t say that out loud. “Fleur was going over to her boyfriend's and the apartment seemed empty. When Calvin called—”

“He called? How'd he get your number?” Ty looks down his nose at me.

My back stiffens. “Our class has a study group list. Mine is on it.”

“That's safe,” Ty drawls in a sarcastic tone that means the exact opposite. “He looks like a pansy-ass.”

“A pansy-ass?”

“You know. A flower. Weak.”

I chafe at Ty's criticism of my date. “He could be a hardy weed.”

He throws a dismissive hand in front of his face. “Either way, I don't like him. Is this because I wouldn't eat steak with you?”

“No.” I scowl. “I'm not doing things just because it would spite you.”

“You sure? Because after you broke up with Matt, we ate and drank at all his favorite places for an entire month.”

So I'm petty. Sue me. “I am not here because you are on a rubber chicken diet. Not everything in my life revolves around you.”

He barrels on as though I hadn't said a word. “Are you that lonely that you'll go out with just anyone? That's not pathetic or anything.”

My jaw falls open. Seriously? “Well, what about you?” I retort. “You're like her next acquisition. She's got her Birkin bag, and next to that there's you.”

Ty folds his arms across his chest, a move designed to intimidate. “Kathleen's a power player. She knows what she wants and goes and gets it. Besides, you're the one who gave me the fucking card. If you didn't think I should go out with her, why bring it up in the first place? Why give her my phone number?”

“You can't think for yourself now? You didn’t have to pick up the phone if she called. You know what? Enjoy your stupid date and leave me alone.” I stomp off, fuming.

“He's a flower,” Ty yells after me. “I have boots that have more heft than him.”

I give him the finger and keep walking.

“Everything okay?” Calvin asks when I return to the table.

“Yes, everything's perfect. I can't wait until we graduate. I'm so done with all of this.”

“But then we have to get jobs.”

“Don't remind me,” I say sourly.

We finish the rest of the meal in silence.