From the end of the couch, the lopsided gorilla stared at her balefully.
“Oh, shut up,” she said. “Like you would’ve done any better.”
There were two ways to go with this. One, she could forget any future at all with the enigmatic Steven Teller, no potential dates, no potential kisses, no potential anything else. Packing up her pride and leaving the status in its current state of quo was not only smart, but also easy. She hardly saw him outside of their mail screw-ups anyway. Eliminating the rest of their contact would be a piece of cake.
Two—and this was the one that refused to be ignored, making her very glad she didn’t own any boilable pets—she could suck it up, apologize for her rudeness, and offer something to make up for it. Like dinner.