Page 5 of A Midnight Romance
“Fair enough.” She laughs. “Well, sending you good writing vibes for flowing ideas.”
“Okay, we’ll talk soon. Safe travels.”
Shortly after we end the call, I’m pulling my townhouse property in a quiet suburban neighborhood right outside of Seattle.
After a quick shower, I make myself a chicken salad, then head back upstairs to my office to get to work.
I only manage to write for an hour when I get the urge for some caffeine. I could make it at home, but my favorite coffee shop is down the street. So I slide on my shoes, grab my purse, and head to the front door. But as soon as I open it, my sister is walking up the path.
“Hi!” Stevie yells as she approaches in workout clothes.
“Are you staying over tonight?” I joke glancing at the large black bag on her shoulder.
“Nice to see you, too.” She smiles and shoves passed me into my house.
I follow behind her and then shut the door behind us. So much for a caffeine fix.
“You live ten minutes away from me. We see each other all the time.”
Stevie drops her bag on the floor and falls into my couch. “I’m bored. It’s Friday night and I don’t have to work late.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m on a deadline. I was just about to run out and grab some coffee at The Overcast Cafe. You’re more than welcome to tag along.”
She shakes her head, arching her upper lip. “You don’t need coffee. You need a large glass of wine.” Then pops off the couch and skips into the kitchen.
“The red is in the fridge,” I tell her, knowing that’s what she’s looking for.
“Eww, I forgot you like it chilled.”
I hear the cupboards open then close before she reappears in the living room holding the bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. She hands one to me, and I reluctantly take it, knowing sometimes I write better after a few glasses—if I don’t fall asleep first.
“This is peer pressure.”
She flashes me a smirk as she sits crossed legged onto the couch. “Not if you actually want to do it.”
“Ha-ha,” I say wryly, slumping onto the cushions next to her.
Stevie places the bottle on the coffee table. “So what were your plans for tonight?” she asks, and I’m already annoyed with where she’s going. “Coffee and hanging out in your office all night?”
“I just told you, I’m on deadline.”
“Boring,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Friday nights are for going out.”
“Out? Where?”
“Like, to a club?”
I almost spit out my sip when I hear her suggestion. Stevie knows that’s not my scene. It’s hers once in a while but we haven’t gone out like that since college. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“We’re too old for that. And clubs aren’t safe.”
“Twenty-nine isn’t old.” My sister rolls her eyes. “You sound like Dad. Can we pretend to be unaware and live in perpetual ignorance like other people?”
Stevie’s only two years younger than me, yet the difference in our personalities is as distinct as night and day.
“You know how many predators hang around places like that. Sociopathic men waiting to take advantage of a drunk college girl? Or slip something into their drinks?”
