Page 83 of The Disasters of Dating
“Barrington.”
My watch vibrates, and I look down to see Poppy’s name.
I suck in a breath, my lips turning up. Finally, something good is happening.
Poppy
How did you know I was at dinner? How did you even know I was at work? Are you psychic???
Why would she wonder that? She knew I was flying in tonight. I pull out my phone and slap a hand to my head. Dang it. In all my frustration, I pulled out the wrong phone and texted her as Lincoln. I’m both irritated and happy. Irritated that I must pretend to be the other guy. But also happy that I get to text her at all.
Some might say psycho…
Poppy
Hahaha. I thought you were trying to come across as less creepy.
Sorry, it’s been a long day. But if you are at work (I was guessing…aren’t you always at work???), you probably know how I feel.
HEY, WEREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO TYPE IN ALL CAPS THIS TIME?
Poppy
YOU’RE RIGHT. I AM AT WORK. SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE I’M ALWAYS AT WORK. Sorry, can’t do it. It takes too much work. What are you up to? Why such a long day?
The guy behind the counter looks up. “How many keys would you like, sir?”
“Two, please.”
He nods and sends one card and then the otherthrough the little machine that codes them. He tucks the cards into a sleeve and scribbles my room number on the front. “There you are, sir. We have you checking out on Thursday night. Is that correct?”
I nod and feel myself frown at the thought that I will also miss seeing Poppy on my way out of town. This week is not shaping up well.
“Is there anything else I can help you with this evening?”
I flick up a smile. “Nope. This was it.” I hold up the cards. “Thanks for your help.”
I head back to the bank of elevators and push the up button. While I wait, I text Poppy back.
QUITTER…
It’s just been one of those days where things didn’t go according to plan.
Poppy
I had one of those a few weeks ago. It was the worst. Although I can’t remove all the blame from myself because my horoscope told me I’d be thrown for a loop.
Oh? It sounds like there’s a story there…
Poppy
Which I’m sure you don’t want to hear.
The elevator dings and opens. I step inside and hit the button for the sixth floor.
Actually, knowing that someone else has had worse days than mine might makes me feel better.
Poppy
