By now I have socks on, and I pulled on a pair of dress pants. That’s followed by a bra and button-down shirt. I then march back to the bathroom where I yank my bag of makeup from under the sink while I keep an eye on the time on my phone. I literally have five minutes to make my face presentable.
“You have to work on Saturday?”
I almost poke myself in the eye with the eyeliner when Alex speaks from right behind me.
“Yep.”
I run the liner on my right upper lid, then the left, making sure it all looks even.
“Since when?” he speaks again.
I pat a primer onto the skin of my face before starting with the foundation., then some blush, bronzer, and, finally, mascara.
“Since they offered me more hours, and I said yes.”
I apply some lipstick on, popping my lips a couple of times until I am satisfied with how everything has come together.
“I need shoes,” I mumble to myself as I turn around and run dead smack into Alex’s hard body. He has clothes on now, too.
“Why are you working so many hours all of a sudden?”
My eyebrow goes up in question. “Why would you think it’s sudden?”
“Because you were not working this late or on the weekends before,” he sputters.
I shrug. “That was before. It’s different now.”
I push pass him and walk back into the bedroom. Fortunately, there’s not a lot of space where my stuff is stored, so the shoes I wear more frequently are lined up neatly along the wall. I step into the pair I want to wear today, ready to start my day.
A glance at the time shows that I am now running three minutes behind.
“I really have to go, Alex.” I rush to put a coat on, bag already across my shoulders underneath. “Damn it,” I mutter when I open the refrigerator and realize that I didn’t pack a lunch for today. Not like I have very many options, but still, it’s nice to eat when you’re hungry.
“What’s the matter?”
I’d rather die than tell him that I don’t have anything to eat for lunch at work today. Instead, I grab a plastic bag and throw in it a jar of peanut butter, one of jelly, then dig for some bread.
“How can I not have bread?” I am super irritated now.
Deciding that this will have to do since I am running out of time, I turn to face Alex again.
“Please come to this dinner with my friends on Saturday night,” he begs.
I squint my eyes at him. “I thought you said it was on Friday.”
“I got my days mixed up.”
My eyes want to roll to the back of my head, but I fight the urge to do so. Instead, I lead us to the door and walk us out of the apartment. I make sure all the locks are turned before marching down the hallway, plastic bag swinging back and forth as I go.
“I’ll think about it,” I snap at him when I can feel him breathing down my neck.
“Awesome!”
He sounds way too happy.
“I didn’t say I was going.” The level of my irritation has risen.
“I’ll wait for you outside the building at seven. Saturday night,” he reminds me.
