Forty-five minutes later, she walked into the apartment she now shared with Jules and made a beeline for the fridge. She grabbed a bottle of pre-mixed margarita, then filled a glass with some ice. She plopped on the couch and poured enough to cover the ice, leaving the bottle on the coffee table.
There were still many boxes littered around from when she moved in on Saturday, but as she’d been living with her parents, she didn’t bring much. Only some books, some old Blu-rays, her clothes, craft supplies, and bedding. A few of her favorite glasses and mugs. The books, movies, and craft supplies would have to wait until she got more storage, thus they were still in the boxes.
She was halfway through her first drink and an old episode of Parks and Recreation when Jules walked in. She’d worked the day shift today and took in the scene.
“That is the best idea I’ve seen all fucking day. Lemme find a glass.”
Jules kicked off her shoes—one flew past Elissa’s head before thunking against the wall—and grabbed a glass and ice. She filled the glass to the brim, carefully sat next to Elissa, and took a long pull.
“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff. So, lady, I know why I’m drinking, but this isn’t exactly typical Lissa behavior. What’s up?”
“You’ll never guess who was at one of my appointments today!”
“Bill Gates? No, um, Chris Evans? Um?—”
“Jerk-Ryan!” She felt bad for calling him that, though. Yeah, he’d had a jerky moment with her but hadn’t been anything other than a nice, attractive guy since.
Jules smiled around the lip of her glass. “Oh, that’s three. Can’t fight the rule of three. You run into the same hot dude three times, and fate is trying to tell you something very, very specific. You gotta go out with this guy.”
“I do not.”
“Yeah, you do. The universe is calling, and if you don’t answer, I won’t be responsible for the shitshow about to descend on your life.”
“How do you know he isn’t the you-know-what-show?”
Jules shrugged and took another drink. “Could be. But then he’s a shitshow the universe knows you need.”
“I don’t have his number.”
“But you know his name, right? Know where he works?”
Elissa nodded.
“Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. You can find him again, ask for his number, and demand his fine ass take you out.”
“Not easy-peasy…ethics…jerk!” Elissa ran out of words for the second time that day. She was saved from having to explain her word salad by her mom’s ringtone sounding from her bag.
“You could let it go to voicemail. We’re having an important discussion here,” Jules said with a laugh.
Elissa ignored her and answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. What do you want stocked for when you stay with Leo next week? I’m picking up groceries on Thursday.”
“Why are you asking today? It’s Monday.”
“In case you didn’t know. You have plenty of time to think this over and let me know by Wednesday. You have a tendency to overthink things.”
Tendency was a bit of an understatement.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll text you if I think of anything specific, but I’m good with what you typically have on hand. And I can shop, too.”
“I know, but you’re doing us a huge favor. It’s the least we can do.”
“I’m happy to do it. You and Dad deserve a break.”
“So we’ll see you at dinner on Sunday?”
