Say You'll Remember Me(9)

He gave me the plant and I held it up. “Thanks. Let me just put this inside and grab my purse.” I squeezed back through the crack in the door, put the plant where Pooter couldn’t knock it over, got my bag, and came out.

“So where are we going?” I asked, letting him walk me to his large black SUV.

“A sunset cruise on Lake Minnetonka.” He opened the door for me.

“Is there going to be food?” I asked, getting in. “Because if not we need to stop and get me a milkshake or something.”

He closed my door and got in on the other side. “There’s going to be food. And puppies. It’s an adoption cruise for Midwest Animal Rescue.”

I stared at him. “Did I just get invited on the perfect date right now?”

Amusement etched the corners of his eyes as he started the engine.

I looked around the vehicle while he pulled away from the curb.

The SUV was clean. Sort of. The front half was fine, but when I looked over my shoulder the back looked like a dog transport. It probably was a dog transport. The seats in the third row were down and two large animal crates were in the trunk. He had seat covers on the two captain chairs, but they were coated in dog hair.

He saw me looking.

“I didn’t get a chance to clean it before picking you up. I do a lot of animal rescue stuff,” he explained.

“I know, I googled you,” I said. “I saw the award you won.”

He didn’t respond, but his jaw ticked the tiniest bit. I wondered if praise made him uncomfortable. He gave me that vibe. That’s good. At least he wouldn’t spend the night bragging about himself. I’d been on that date. Many times.

“Are you hot?” he asked. “Do you want me to adjust the air?” He angled the vent toward me.

“I’m fine. Thank you. So tell me, Xavier, what do you do for fun?” I asked, launching into my first-date questions.

“I did a spay and neuter clinic last week.”

He said this completely unironically.

I grinned at the side of his face. I couldn’t help it. “While I’m sure that was rewarding, I’m not sure that was fun,” I said. “You know, fun? That thing that makes you laugh and have a good time? Typically removing balls is not involved.”

This got him. His smile cracked and his whole face changed.

WOW.

What a beautiful, glorious thing. I was instantly addicted to it.

“I like the volunteer work. I do have fun doing it,” he said. “I go up north with my friends twice a year. But mostly I work.” He got onto the freeway. “So what do you do for a living?” he asked.

“I’m a social media manager for a mustard brand,” I said. “Murkle’s Mustard. Basically they pay me to abuse their customers.”

“I think I need you to elaborate…”

“Okay. I reply to social media comments with witty, biting repartee. I make graphics,” I said. “Write the newsletter, plan campaigns. I execute them and manage the comments and DMs. It is my perfect job. I get to work from home and be on the internet all day.”

“So you have a marketing degree?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t teach you how to do what I do. I mean, it does a little, but you have to ‘get’ people to be able to do it.”

“And you get people?” he asked.

“I do. You can’t sell someone something if you don’t understand them.”

He glanced at me. “I can see that. You can’t be a good vet if you don’t understand animals.”

“Is it hard to understand patients who can’t talk?”

“Not at all. They talk to me fine.”

I smiled at this.

When we pulled into the parking lot across from the lake, he came around and opened the door for me. Then when we paused to cross the street to the dock, he put his arm in front of me while he checked for cars.

“So do they do this every year?” I asked when we got to the marina. I knew which boat it was immediately because there were dogs being led up the ramp. It was a huge yacht.

“Third year.”

He stood back and let me go first.

The weather was perfect. Warm, a slight breeze, the sun was out in full force. One of those ideal Minnesota days you waited all year for. Kind of sad I was leaving tomorrow. It’s always better to bail on Minnesota in the winter.

My phone vibrated halfway down the dock to the boat. “I’m sorry, I have to check this,” I said, rummaging in my bag. It could be Jeneva. Probably just a spam call, but also a decent chance it was about Mom and no phone calls about Mom should ever be ignored at this point.

I pulled it out, caught a glimpse of my sister’s number—and then knocked my phone into the strap of my purse, out of my hand, and right into the lake.

I watched in horror as it swiveled down into the depths, still ringing.

“No…” I breathed. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Xavier peered around me. “What?”

I set my purse on the dock and got onto my knees to look into the water. “I just dropped my phone in the lake.”

This was literally my nightmare.

That was everything down there. My ability to work, the Uber I’d need to get to the airport, my plane tickets—Apple Pay. I couldn’t even call my sister and tell her what happened. I didn’t know her number by heart—she’d think I’d been thrown into a trunk on this date.