“No, this is not how I usually act. Usually, I throw a fit like a toddler and act like everyone hates me, even though we already know you hate me, but you are also the person in charge of the money, and unfortunately, it’s money that buys food. And yes, while I could buy my own, technically, I’d prefer to just make this easier on Melanie or whoever oversees budgets and reimbursements or whatever it is that someone must do to make sure everyone and everything gets paid,” she says.
I can’t help it. I let out a small laugh, which surprises both of us.
“I think you are becoming that rabid beast of a woman you described more with every minute that passes,” I say.
Rachel sighs heavily. “Please, Evan. I need food. You need food. Let’s just go get food. Together but not together. I don’t even care if it’s a corn dog off the street.”
“Fine,” I finally reply, thinking that a corn dog doesn’t sound so horrible.
I usually prefer food trucks and food carts. I suppose Rachel believes that I’m uptight and would want to dine somewhere that gives you too many utensils and serves two bites per course.
“But you may just get a corn dog,” I add.
She shrugs her shoulders, finally releasing her grip from her dress, letting it flow back around her ankles. “I’m quite fond of corn dogs. I worked at a corn dog stand for a few years.”
I don’t know if she’s being serious or rattling off another tale out of insanity.
“Let me just grab my phone and room key,” I say.
I notice she doesn’t follow me in. She stays in the hallway, and her hands are back to being twisted through the skirt of her dress, forcing it to swish back and forth across her feet. Herbarefeet. Her bare feet that need shoes if we’re about to traipse across the streets of Los Angeles.
I roll my eyes. Of course she came to my room not prepared.
I swipe my phone from the sleek coffee table where I abandoned it when Rachel had knocked on my door. There’s a notification. It’s a photo from Lily of her in a bright yellow swimsuit, a wide smile stretched across her face, and the dreaded peace sign while staring into her own bathroom mirror.
Lily
Ready to swim in that bathtub!
I shake my head before typing out a quick reply.
Evan
Confirmation should be in your email. Your flight leaves at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.
I put my phone in my pocket and then walk across my room to the small kitchen bar where I left my room key. Now to get back to this other ridiculous woman currently in my life who needs a pair of shoes.
“Don’t you think you need shoes? You know those contraptions that wrap around your feet to protect them from the elements or whatever the people of LA have decided to abandon on the streets?” I ask.
“Oh,” she mumbles quietly, looking down at her feet that are lacking a pedicure. “Sorry. I hate shoes. I guess we’ll have to go back to my room and…”
Her sentence dies as she bites at her bottom lip, looking up at me with eyes that would rival a deer staring into its death in the bright headlights of a semitruck on the freeway.
“What?” I ask.
“I forgot my room key. I left it on my dresser,” she admits. “I…”
I sigh. “We can go to the front desk. They’ll give you another.”
“I’m sorry.”
I hold up a hand to silence her, closing the door behind me and reaching my hand into my pocket to give me extra reassurance that my room key is safely on my person. “It’s fine.”
But what I’m really thinking is this woman is all kinds of an inconvenience.
Chapter 13
Rachel
