She tilts the phone toward me so I can look at the picture of Madison, but I don’t glance over. I’m too focused on my own phone trying to figure out how to reply to Rachel before I’m rushed out of the vehicle and won’t have a spare moment to text her back.
Evan
I’ve got dinner with a fan at 7:00. Meet you at 9:00 in the lobby?
The car door is opening, but I remain seated, my eyes glued to the dancing dots.
Rachel
See you at 9:00.
Chapter 33
Rachel
Itugatthehemline of the little black dress, one of the only neutrals I brought with me. I’m not much of a neutral kind of gal.
The sleeves are long and sheer with embroidered tiny dots. The neck of the dress is high, pulled around my neck with two buttons on the back. There’s a thick lace strip on the front that goes from my neck to the waist band, playing a very subtle game of peek-a-boo with my skin. But it’s the chiffon skirt that flares slightly with enough excess fabric that it swishes around my thighs when I walk that I love the most. I’ve never outgrown things that twirl.
I’ve paired my outfit with black kitten heels, and my hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, but spirals of baby hair are already rebelling against the hairstyle, wanting to break free from any control.
And my stomach swirls.
I watch the hands on the clock continue to crawl slowly. Ten more minutes.
My phone buzzes.
Mal
RACH! WE MISS YOU!
Along with the text is a selfie of Mal and Wonton. Wonton’s furry head is smushed against Mal, and he appears to be glaring at the camera.
I quickly type back.
Rachel
Don’t lie to me. Wonton does not miss me. He’s probably already moved all the things out of my room and moved in himself.
Mal
He just believes in you, Rach. If you can’t move back in, you’ve got to move onto better things.
I bite my top teeth into my bottom lip, contemplating whether I should mention that I’m going for drinks with Evan, and that it is voluntary. And that I'm not positive, but I think I'm dating Evan Michaels. Hedidsay that he was letting me in.
Andletting me invery much feels like being his girlfriend. Am I Evan Michaels' girlfriend?
I look at my phone screen, smiling at the photo of Mal and Wonton, and decide Mal doesn’t need to know just yet. I’ll let her know later. Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or when someone finally pinches me and I realize this isn’t just a dream.
I slip my phone into my satchel, stealing one more glance in the mirror before walking out to meet Evan downstairs.
I push the down arrow at the elevator. When it springs open, there’s Evan, his dimples already dotting his cheeks when he sees me. I feel myself smiling as I watch him look me over. I can tell he’s trying to be discreet.
“Off to somewhere important?” he asks with a teasing glint in his brown eyes as I join him in the elevator.
I walk to the back wall, leaning against it as the doors close.
“I’m meeting someone,” I say curtly, playing along, acting as if I don’t know him.
