Page 81 of Getting Down to Business

“Remember Liss, guys don’t buy the cow if they get the milk for free.”

“I never understood that metaphor. Guys don’t buy cows and cows don’t give their milk away. People take the cow’s milk and sell it to many different guys. This metaphor is more about being a pimp than being promiscuous.”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Her mother laughed.

“I do.”

“I think you’re smart enough to know what you’re doing, and I’m glad you have a nice place to sleep every night.”

“Thanks. He’s a great guy.”

“Good.”

“How’s work?” she asked to change the subject.

“Oh, you know. Nothing new. What about you?”

“I got a promotion. I have my own office. There’s no window, but it’s great.”

“Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“When are you coming to see me?” her mother asked.

“As soon as you have a weekend off.” Her mother never had weekends off. Or many evenings. Her scheduled paired with her intense dislike of electronic communication were the reason her mother was just now finding out about the new job and her roommate situation.

“Hmm. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“Sure. I’ve got to get going. I’m making lasagna tonight.”

“My recipe?” her mother asked expectantly.

“Kind of, but with real meat.”

“Ooh, who you having over, the Queen of England?” her mother teased.

“Not exactly. Just some of his friends.”

“Have a great time.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you, sweetie.”

She didn’t know exactly why she hadn’t told her mother more about Grayson. It wasn’t that her mother would disapprove. She’d loved Donnie. Before she found out he was a rapist, of course.

Despite the lecture about milk, her mother had always told her to live life and make mistakes, then pick yourself up and live some more. It was a freestyle approach to child-rearing, but Alyssa appreciated it. Especially in those times when she was trying desperately to pick herself up and live some more.

With all the ingredients, she let herself back into the apartment, nearly dropping the bags.

Grayson ran over just as she was losing her grip.

“Why didn’t you text me so I could have come down to help?”

“I’ve got it. No problem.”

“So what do you want me to do? Tell me how I can help.”