Page 15 of The Fantasy League
“You’re delusional.”
“If you say so.” Mae grinned from one corner of her mouth like she knew something that I didn’t.
This conversation was pointless. There was no way that my boss had a crush on me, and on the off chance he did, how would Mae know? She’d seen us interact together, what, four times? And that was pushing it.
Brushing her off of me, I waddled toward the bathroom, barely making it before liquid threatened to run down my thighs. When I reached over to grab some toilet paper from the holder, realization hit me.
I didn’t have any toilet paper.
Neither did Mae.
Goddammit.
I picked up one of my stray tote bags that conveniently lay on the ground and sifted through it, hoping and praying to find a napkin or something.
Anything.
Aha! I pulled out half a Chipotle napkin from the bottom of my bag. Thank God I hadn’t cleaned this place since Sunday and had shit laid around everywhere. It might not have been one of the finer moments in my life, but I would to work with what I was given.
Memories from the night before flooded to the forefront of my brain once again. A noise complaint. Wine. Karaoke. More wine. Toilet papering Abel’s house.
Yikes.
This morning was still a blur, but what I hadn’t pieced together was why there were no remnants of our toilet paper destruction on Abel’s house when I walked over this morning.
How was he able to get it cleaned up so quickly? And why didn’t he say anything about it?
If I was him and my house got vandalized in a gated neighborhood, the first people I would interrogate would be my neighbors. Specifically the girls who lived across the street.
Ehh, I guessed the security team took care of it before he woke up. Surely one of the guards saw it during their hourly patrol and didn’t want to risk losing his job.
Smart guy.
After washing my hands, I shuffled out of the bathroom and down the hall to pick up the packages I left in the entryway yesterday afternoon.
Struggling to carry them down the hall, I huffed and puffed before I managed to set the box on the island.
I took my time unboxing the new set of cookware that I had absolutely no space for. I’d been guilty of falling down the rabbit hole of a fifty percent off flash sale at two in the morning a few weeks ago.
But my regrets were minimal as I unwrapped the perfectly crafted pots and pans that I’d had my eye on for the last year. I wasn’t one to splurge often, but I knew these ceramic pans would look great in the photos for the cookbook, so it was worth every penny. Which was still steep, even at half off.
“You never told me if you said yes to him or not,” Mae piped up from the couch where she had been immersed in her phone for the last few minutes.
“I told him I needed to think about it. I don’t think I’m going to say yes though.” I turned on the faucet to the sink, hoping to drown out the conversation as I washed my picture-perfect cookware.
“I think you should do it. Just one date. That’s it. You were planning on quitting anyway, so if it’s horrible you can go back to the original plan and come work for me,” Mae shouted, loud enough for me to hear her over the running water.
“Did you just make another bet with Lea about whether or not I was going to say yes to him?”
“No…” The evident lie coated her voice.
“You’re a horrible liar. You know that, don’t you?” I shouted back to her and laughter rose from my throat while I placed the clean pans on the drying rack.
“Please, Scar. Humor me. It’ll be fun!” Mae slapped on the same giant puppy-dog eyes that she used to coerce men into buying her drinks at the bar.
“If you give me the hundred bucks for winning the first bet, I’ll think about it,” I bargained. I was already thinking about it, so the least I could do was turn a profit from it. “No promises though.”
A few seconds later, my phone pinged with a notification that Mae had sent me a hundred dollars. Dismissing it, I opened up my text thread with Lea instead. A pleased smile passed my lips while I thumbed out a message to her.
