Page 12 of Drop Shot
“You’re insufferable.” She lets out a heaving sigh. “Give me coffee.” She reaches over and swipes her iced caramel macchiato out of the carrier. “I need caffeine to tolerate you.”
“That’s cute.” I reach for the handle. “See you later, Whim.”
She doesn’t reply, just drives off and leaves me on the sidewalk.
I laugh all the way into my building.
CHAPTER 4
WHIMSY
I’ve been stuckin my closet for twenty minutes and I still haven’t decided on an outfit.
It’s not a real date, but I have to treat it like it is, but I also don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. Elias said to dress up and that’s the only detail he gave me in the text message I received this morning besides to be ready at six.
The past few days have been boring for me. I might be getting paid for this, but there’s not a lot of work involved, and I’mbored. I suppose I might have a chance to catch up on some books or check out some of the cozy video games I’ve always said I’m going to give a try and then never do. Or I could get back into drawing. I’ve always loved it, but I never have time for it except for small sketches here and there.
As a person who likes to bedoing, this has been hard.
I check the time and silently curse myself. At least I already curled my hair and did my makeup.
I pluck a black and ivory tweed dress from the hanger. It’s dressy, but not overly so. The Chanel piece is one I overspent on, but I couldn’t help myself. My biggest weakness in life is designer fashion and handbags.
Slipping the dress on, I turn to take in my appearance at all angles in my full-length mirror.
I could overthink it and try on more, but I don’t have time to spare.
My feet are achy today, but the idea of wearing flats makes me want to gag. I compromise by putting the flats on for now, but taking a pair of heels with me.
I check my makeup one more time and add just a bit more of pink tinted lip oil.
“Craig.” I pet the cat on her head as I pass her where she snoozes on the back of the couch. “Be a good girl while I’m gone.”
She peeks one eye open at me and I swear she’s saying, “I’m always good.”
The text from Elias telling me he’s arrived feels like an unwelcome jolt of electricity down my spine.
I can’t believe we’re really going through with this.
“Wish me luck.” I give Craig one last pat on the head.
Grabbing my handbag, I rest it in the crook of my arm. Downstairs, I spot Elias’s black G-Wagon out front. My steps slow. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that we have matching vehicles.
Coming out with this relationship is going to be harder than I thought, because my mom is definitely going to be convinced we’ve been dating a while. She’s going to think we’re close to wedding bells.
I take a deep breath to steady myself as I step outside. The evening air carries a slight chill.
I reach for the passenger door and grunt as I climb inside.
Elias snickers. “You sound like you’re fighting for your life to get in here.”
“Because I am,” I grumble. “I’m short.”
“Is this how you get in yours too?” His laugher grows.
“No,” I bite out. “But that’s because I have a stool.”
Somehow his laughter grows even more. “Next time I’ll lift you in.”
