Mitch’s next task was to invite Toby to the show and lay out the terms and conditions, should he accept. He braced for all of the sarcastic comments, and allowed Toby to tire himself out with excuses and remarks about what a victim he was because Jodie didn’t like him or whatever. This was the exact level of theatrics that made Mitch second guess what it was that he was doing, and helped him see things a little more clearly from Jodie’s perspective.
“If you don’t come to this, I don’t think we have much of a future,” Mitch dropped the bombshell at last. Sure, it was manipulative, but he was also being transparent. The show itself didn’t mean much to him personally, but everything hinged on getting Jodie and Toby together in the same room to see if they could co-exist. He didn’t need Jodie’s approval for who he spent time with, but she was his ride-or-die for coming up on two decades, and that held a considerable amount of weight.
“What if I have an early next morning?” Toby asked.
“The museum’s closed to patrons on Tuesdays, and you don’t have to be there until noon,” Mitch countered. “Either come see me play sad boy music and tolerate being in the same room as Jodie, or y’know. I guess that’s the last time that I blow you? Your choice.”
“I didn’t even get to savor it!” Toby complained while he hiked his underwear and pants back up. “You sprung this on me right after you were done. It was a sneak attack.”
Still, he agreed, and Mitch was pleased with the results of his efforts.
The final item was to confront the texts from Calvin, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he handed his phone to Jodie and relayed how Gia got him wound up and the result was a horrible mistake.
“I swear to god, you belong in some type of Hall of Fame,” Jodie glowered while she deleted the texts for him.