Page 19 of Rich Girl
“As opposed to you who went on this app, and now you’re shacked up with the woman you found on there?”
“That is not even remotely the same,” Cal protests. “I went on that app knowing Evie was on it. I was purposely looking for her on there. I wasn’t interested in anyone or anything else.”
I don’t mind them arguing, but they need to do it somewhere other than in my office.
“I need to go shower and change. You girls can discuss this on your way home.”
They both grin at me in a synchronized move, like they know they’re in my way now, and they don’t want to leave.
“We can’t,” James takes the lead. “We’ll be in separate vehicles.”
I drop my feet to the ground and stand up, taking a moment to stretch my back.
“Call each other when you get home then.”
At that, they bust out laughing.
“We can,” Cal wheezes out through fits of laughter. “If you want Carrie and Evelyn on the case. Because they will be on you as soon as they find out you might’ve found someone.”
I’m confused by that. They don’t even know me. Why would they be in my business like that? I know Carrie, James’ girlfriend, even less than I do Evie.
“You’re part of the group now,” Cal shrugs at me when he notices the expression on my face. “That means you’ll get into the gossip rotation.”
“Yes,” James chimes in. “Right now, they are focused on Alex and Mona. They want to see a happy ending there. It’ll be a cluster.”
They both nod their heads in agreement at that. It’s like they’re expecting me to have an opinion on this. I know nothing other than the fact that Alex keeps on going back to his ex for random hookups, which only serves to give her hope.
When I glance to the clock on the wall, I see my out.
“It’s late, and I really need to get ready to go meet with the chick. Traffic’s gonna be a bitch.”
They finally get the hint and stand up to leave.
“Where are you meeting her?” Cal inquires on his way out the door.
“The restaurant next door to where you guys got me drunk. Hopefully, it’s not bad luck.”
They both snicker but don’t say anything else. I look around to make sure my computer is off, and my desk drawers locked up before heading upstairs to the apartment.
I’m not sure why, but I have this weird feeling about meeting the girl from the app.
Hayden B.
She never gave me her last name, which, I never asked her for it either, but I can tell she is somewhat standoffish in general. She did mention that she is in between jobs right now, and I can’t help but wonder how she can afford to live in the city on no income. She said she worked in a flower shop before. I can’t imagine making a ton of money off that.
All these thoughts run through my mind as I shower, making sure to scrub my hands extra hard. They are stained with oil working on a truck for the last couple of days. They look dirty no matter what I do, and I can only hope it won’t be an issue. If it is, oh, well.
I take a moment to debate what I should wear. For reasons unknown to me, I feel like she would judge me based on my appearance. I guess I can’t bitch, because if she looks like the picture on her profile, the girl is smoking hot. In fact, she looks like she could be high maintenance. It is a good thing that this is only for the two events we discussed and working toward a more permanent situation.
Patting my pockets, I make sure I have my wallet and some extra cash. I grab the keys to my Jeep and my cell phone, then I’m off.
The traffic is just as bad as I had predicted. While driving my Jeep into the city is not the most practical idea, it’s all custom, and the front looks bigger than it is and intimidating. It does scare people off and they get out of my way. When I’m in a smaller vehicle, they always seem to be driving up my ass.
I let out a sigh of relief when I finally pull into the paid garage that’s a block away from the restaurant bar where I’m supposed to meet Hayden. I got here early, so I have some time to kill before she gets here.
When I walk inside, I am temporarily disoriented. The lights are dimmed, and I need a moment to adjust my eyes and familiarize myself with my surroundings.
“Good evening, sir,” the hostess greets me. “Just one?”
