Three days later Rosalie calls and asks me to lunch.
I have work, but when Mrs. Newton overhears the conversation, she's all too eager to tell me that I can take a long lunch.
We eat a place I can't afford. I think my eyes bulge out of my head when I open the menu and glance over the prices.
Rosalie insists on paying.
She tells me about her work. I can tell she really enjoys doing what she does.
She asks me about the bakery.
My answers are vague and evasive and she can tell, but she doesn't pry or ask personal questions.
While we walk back to the parking garage where her car is, we look at the window displays.
It's a few days away from Thanksgiving and the Christmas displays are already up.
Rosalie ooh's and aah's over the jewelery display at Tiffany's.
The afternoon is free of talking about Edward until we're in the car and she's driving me back to work.
"So, did you deliver the pie? I haven't talked to Edward since them, but Esme did mention he got the papers. thanks for that."
"Oh, yeah, I did," I tell her, hoping that she won't ask about it further.
"Okay. And?" She pushes.
"He seemed to like it. I didn't really get to talk to him or anything." I pause, then add, "he didn't actually remember me."
Rosalie shook her head. "Typical Edward. He can't even take his head out of his ass to think about anyone but himself.
"Hmmm," I say. I don't know how to respond to that.
"Esme said he has a date tonight, she set him up with one of her friends nieces or something. I'm actually kind of shocked. The poor girl doesn't even know what she's in for," Rosalie sighed. "Well, maybe he'll end up getting laid and that will loosen him up."
She laughs, so I laugh too.
Inside, I'm not laughing.
See you tomorrow.