Page 140 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
“Maybe next time.” She giggles before tapping her card on the reader in front of her.
Maybe not.
With that woman back on the dance floor, ready for the charity dance-off and no one else at the bar, I drop below, loading dirty glasses into the dishwasher.
A box of cupcakes catches my eye.
The little pink box has four cupcakes in a six-cupcake box. It isn’t an odd choice or Dollie running out of smaller boxes. A glance around the floor shows me a few crumbs, confirming my suspicions that some creep has eaten the other two.
Bastards.
The three remaining cupcakes have letters that read UCK, and the other has a four-leaf clover. I can only assume that they once spelled LUCKY.
And I feel lucky until a voice in my head starts blaring.
Don’t eat them. There are probably finger germs all over them.
Not willing to give that thought power, I pull sanitizer spray from my pocket, spray my hands, then take a cupcake from the box and shove it into my mouth before my thoughts can win.
God, too fucking good.
She really can make an amazing cupcake.
Memories flash back to my teens. Dollie and I were forced into the kitchen with Mom to help her bake. I spent those three hours with a frown that only lifted when Dollie fed me batter. I’d acted like Dollie’s shadow as she moved around with a smile, and it made Mom so uncomfortable she never asked us to bake again.
I force those thoughts from my head, knowing what Mom would think of our current predicament, seeing as she barely coped with the milder one back then.
Disappointment.
She’d feel disappointed in me.
That’s another thing I push from my head, then type a quick message. I spot Dollie’s last message first and realize I left her hanging.
Dollancie:
You're gonna tell me you remember my eyes after seeing me once? Are they that beautiful?
I delete my message and start over.
Lucky:
Your eyes are blue and, yes, very beautiful and memorable.
The cupcake was great, too—the first one. I have three more that I’m gonna guard all night.
Dollancie:
Three?
Lucky:
I guess someone else thought they were great, too.
Fuckers.
Sorry.
Dollancie:
