Page 41 of Personal Escort

I wince as I sit down on the floor and lean back against the bed frame. I swipe in to my phone. But his texts aren’t about last night.

Toby: Morning. Remember, you look stunning in that dress.

Toby: You up? Break a leg today.

Toby: Cara?

Toby: Either you’ve slept in, or you’ve got cold feet.

Toby: That’s okay if you do.

Toby: Should I be worried?

Oh God. I quickly reply to the last one, then add a belated greeting.

Cara: NO!

Cara: Morning.

I blink the sleep out of my eye and focus on the clock in the corner of my phone screen. Quarter after nine. I have an hour and forty-five minutes before I need to be two subway stops away.

I’ve got this. It’ll be fine.

Cara: Slept in. Yes. Fine. Shower now.

Toby: LOL okay

Toby in a nutshell. I’m freaking out, he’s cool as a cucumber.

I need coffee first. Good coffee, and fast. I throw on shoes and grab my wallet. In the hallway, I find a neighbor who I don’t know waiting for the elevator.

He gives me an absent smile. “Been waiting a few minutes,” he says.

Oh no.

I head for the stairs. We’ll call the jog down them further ninja training. For today is the first day of the rest of my bad-ass life, or something like that.

In the lobby, I see a sign on the elevator door.

Out of Service

Would have been nice if they’d put one of those on each floor to let us know. I run outside and down the block to the coffee shop there, only to find another sign, this one more formal.

A Toronto Public Health closure notice, framed in no-go red.

CLOSED

Okay, Universe. I get it. This is karma for trying to trick Nana.

But mycoffee shop, too? How many times have I grabbed a latte here? Am I lucky I’m still alive?

My stomach twists. I could go two more blocks to Starbucks, but the lineup will be insane, and I’m already eating into my shower time.

I trudge back to my building, and up the six flights to my floor again.

Neighbor guy is still standing in front of the elevator.

“It’s out of service,” I mutter before letting myself into my apartment.