Page 54 of Ewan

“No, no. I’m coming. Of course I’m coming. Thank you so much for calling me. I was pondering whether to drive to Bayside, leave my car there, and take the train. Or get the train from my town. Or a variation of it.”

“Forget about the car. Get a cab or use a ride-sharing app and book a car. The weather might be finicky tonight. And you might be drinking a cocktail.”

I smile.

“Or eight,” we say at the same time before laughing.

This used to be our joke.

“Okay. All right. Sounds good. I’ll probably do that,” I say.

“I know it’s expensive but you could also get a cab when you go back. I’m sure we’ll make a ton of money, and the fare will be a drop in the bucket.”

“Sounds good. Yeah. I’ll do that. What time do you want me there?”

“No later than seven.”

She gives me the address, and we chat a little more before shifting the topic and sharing––it’s mostly her––some experiences with a couple of dating apps.

It’s a crazy world out there, and I commend her for being so driven and courageous when meeting these men.

A few minutes later, we wrap it up, but not before going over one last aspect of my new job.

“What do you want me to wear?”

“Go wild. Dress sexy. Do your hair, put on some makeup, and rock some skintight dress. Don’t forget about the heels. Weneed to look like cameras will be rolling. Sexy and classy. We’ll probably have one of those cute little aprons. The ones you see in sexy movies.”

We chuckle again.

“You mean pornos.”

“I mean what I mean.”

“You’re crazy, woman.”

“Crazy for money,” she sing-songs. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s all math in the end. I want to buy myself a little house in your area, and you know the prices are insane.”

“I surely know that. That’s why I’m grateful for what I have, although there are better areas with bigger houses.”

“Frankly, I’m not looking for a lot of space. If I ever get married again, I will be pondering that option, but right now, no.”

“I hear you. Okay. Let me go take a shower. We’ll talk later.”

“Bye,” she says, a smile in her voice, and I place my phone on the kitchen counter before heading straight to the bathroom.

SCARLETT

Later

I don’t knowif what I see in the mirror is what my friend had in mind.

I wear a black skintight dress that molds to my body, highlighting my shape. It features a long metal zipper running down my back and a hemline that falls just below my knee. Ialso wear matching heels and black sheer stockings with a tiny beaded bow at my ankle.

The neckline of my dress is round and revealing, so I have to make sure my bra doesn’t peek from underneath.

I wear black lace lingerie, which is not very creative or inspiring, so I go back to the closet and rifle through the contents of a box before pulling out a soft red satin bra and matching panties. The color, a fiery, deep, blood-like red, makes me look for a matching shade of lipstick.

My hair has volume and falls down my back in big waves, my eyes glinting between silky lashes coated with mascara.

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