Only Oscar (Wattys 2022 Shortlist!)

Chapter Six

Callie was nervous about seeing Oscar. It was ridiculous. She shouldn't be. But she was.

She changed outfits numerous times before she left her apartment, finally settling on a rich, emerald green halter-neck, black bootleg jeans and a pair of strappy green heels. With her hair in soft waves brushing her shoulder blades, make-up which made her lashes longer and lips fuller, it provided the kind of confidence-boosting look she could wear as a protective armor to hide her unease.

It had been five days since they saw each other face-to-face, the longest they'd been apart since he had chicken pox in the summer between Junior and Senior High. He could have called or texted her, but he hadn't and for a while Callie was a little upset about that. Then she remembered she'd asked him for space, realized he was giving it to her and the reminder of how considerate he could be made her feel worse.

She'd have texted him every day if the situation was reversed.

The party was lively when she got there, a loud cacophony of conversation competing with a heavy beat of music. Her eyes automatically sought out Oscar's messy mop of dark hair, hungry for a glimpse of him after being starved for so long.

But before she could find him, their host found her.

"Callie-licious! You made it." Harry grinned and enfolded her in a quick, tight hug. "Welcome to my humble abode."

She smiled in reply. Humble, her ass. The square footage alone placed the open plan apartment in fantasy-land for the majority of New Yorker's. Add its location overlooking the Hudson to the glimpses of stunning skyscraper-filled views she could see through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall, and she was just a teensy bit jealous. 

It made her apartment look like a cardboard box. 

How could Harry afford a place this great? The last she heard, he was barely a couple of rungs up from the mail room on the career ladder. And if some elderly relative passed away and left him a fortune, she hadn't heard anything about it from Oscar.

Still, not really any of her business, was it? And she was happy for him.

"Why thank you, kind sir." She handed him a gift-wrapped box. "Happy new apartment day."

He tore into the package like an excited child, his face lighting up when the contents were revealed. "This can't be an original Battlestar Galactica prop. Where did you get it?"

"EBay. Not an original, I'm afraid. It's a replica." Her smile was apologetic. The originals cost a fortune and she wasn't making enough money to stop being cautious about where she spent every cent. "But I know you're a fan, so I thought you might have fun with it."

"I will." Harry kissed her cheek. "You're the best. You sure I can't get you to be a surrogate mother for my children? That way they'd be both smart and super-hot. It would be our gift to mankind and the planet."

Callie laughed. "Tempting, but the answer's still no."

He slapped a palm against his chest. 

"Breaks my heart every time. You see Oz, yet?" The turn of his head gave Callie time to school her expression. "I know he was over by the bar a minute ago."

"I'm sure I'll bump into him at some point," she replied, ignoring the tightening nerves in her stomach.

"Come on then, let's get you a drink."

Callie followed his lead, a glass of something colorful with a bendy straw and tiny umbrella magically appearing in her hand as she was introduced to people she'd never met before.