…I don’t know what you’re talking about.
She smirked at the screen, waiting. It didn’t take long for Jamie’s reply to light up.
You absolutely do.
Sounds like someone’s letting me get under her skin.
Not the point.
Then what is the point, Jamie?
The POINT is that you can’t just… flip the switch like that. It’s confusing.
Confusing or distracting?
Leo’s ears twitched at the knock on the door. Erin smiled; she didn’t need a clock to tell her it was Monday. Surviving the hardest day of the week always earned her a little reward.
Sure enough, when she opened the door, a small white box from the 24-hour bakery sat waiting. Cannoli. The same order every week.
Leo trotted in a hopeful circle as she carried the box inside. “Not for you,” she told him, though she already knew he’d end up with a bite of the shell.
Erin set the bakery box on the counter, peeling back the lid to reveal the familiar dusting of powdered sugar. She bit into the cannoli, cream sweet against the crisp shell, and leaned her hip against the counter. Leo watched every move with mournful eyes.
Her phone buzzed where she’d left it on the couch. Then again. And again. By the time she picked it up, three new messages stacked on top of each other.
Okay, you can’t just say things like that.
You’re doing it on purpose.
This is supposed to be a friendship, remember??
She sank onto the couch, thumb hovering over the keyboard, already imagining how red Jamie’s face must be on the other side of the screen.
Say things like what? I was being professional.
Professional??
You literally called me distracted.
That is not professional.
Erin’s thumb hovered over the screen, debating how to answer Jamie’s three-message spiral, when the phone buzzed again — this time with an incoming call.
She blinked, surprised, then shook her head with a quiet laugh.
“Of course,” she muttered, and answered. “Jamie?”
“I didn’t mean it like that!” Jamie blurted immediately. “I just— I was trying to say you can’t be two different people and then I made it sound like you’re out here flirting with every reporter and I swear I didn’t mean—”
“Jamie.” Erin’s voice lowered, just enough to be soothing. “Breathe.”
A shaky inhale rattled through the line.
Erin bit back a smile. “You really called me to… clarify your clarification?”
“That’s not— I wasn’t— I just didn’t want you to think I was accusing you of—”
“Flirting?” Erin supplied, far too smoothly.
