How fast are my mother’s search fingers? I’m picturing her hunched over her keyboard, smoke rising from her rapid internet queries.
“Klein, I want you to have dinner here Wednesday evening. Check with your lady friend and make sure that works with her schedule. Eden told me she’s a big shot marketer, so you need to make sure she’s not busy marketing something.”
I stare at the phone, offended. “You forgot to ask if I’m free.”
“Are you free?”
I blow out an irritated breath. “Yes.”
“Lovely. Ask your lady friend and?—”
“Paisley.”
“Paisley,” my mother repeats. “Like the pattern. I like it.”
“I’ll make sure to tell her you like her name.”
“Don’t be caustic, Klein. It’s unbecoming.”
I laugh. My love of words came from my mother. She’s the reason for my large vocabulary as a child, even when I couldn’t read.
“Wednesday,” my mom echoes. “Ask Paisley and let me know.”
“I will.”
“Love you, Klein.”
“Love you, Mom.”
The connection ends.
I spend the rest of the afternoon reading about Bald Head Island and online shopping.I have nothing to wear to a wedding, and next to nothing for a week on a beach.
I quickly tire of online shopping, because, well, I hate it. I make a brief run to the grocery store, then get ready for the craziness that is a Saturday night behind the bar.
CHAPTER 8
Paisley
I waitto text Klein until the bachelorette weekend is over and I’ve dropped everyone off at the airport. As promised, I send him a simple text with the name of my company and the address. I follow it up with a second message detailing when we’re heading to the island and what the weather will be like.
Two hours later he responds.
I filed that napkin with the Arizona Bureau of Contracts.
If I were in his presence, I’d shake my head in exasperation. But since he can’t see me, I laugh. I type out a message and hit send.
That’s not a thing.
There’s one point we left out of the contract.
What’s that?
Three little dots appear. Disappear. Reappear. The message pops up.
You can’t fall in love with me, Royce.
Wouldn’t dream of it, Madigan.
