Well, I’m so lonely I would be glad to listen to more of your manuals if you have one with you.
I stiflea snort and try to come up with a response. Valor’s statement comes back to my brain and shuts down the fun.Royal was positive you weren’t flirting with him.
We’re extended family. I text with extended family all the time. I’m probably bad at flirting because I don’t ever get to do it. I could really use a friend though.
Leticia:
Well, sadly I’m away from my manuals. Though I bet I could get the car specs out of the glove box if you’d like.
Royal:
It’s a coffee maker I’m in the mood for, I’m afraid. Water elements and filters, maybe a self-contained heating element.
I rollmy lips between my teeth to stop my smile from spreading and alerting the driver to something ‘unusual’ happening. I quickly type back a response.
Leticia:
Sorry, fresh out. Still heading back from Valor’s. I’ll be home and in the kitchen though in about an hour.
He doesn’t respond right away.
Did I do the wrong thing telling him that?My heart skips a beat seeing him finally texting me back after too many minutes of silence.
Royal:
Sorry, didn’t mean to leave you on read. You’re headed into the kitchen after you get home? Did Valor forget to feed you as part of ‘dinner at his house’ or???
I swear I can’t let him do anything byhimself.
Leticia:
Antonella is a great cook. Dinner was divine, but I have food prep for an event for Mom and her friends.
I’m already dreading it.But if I premeasure all the ingredients and get them ready to go for all of me, myself, and I in the morning, the special get-together will be much easier. On me anyway.
Royal:
Do the D’Medicis not use caterers?
I snort,covering it with a cough so the driver doesn’t ask questions, and roll my eyes before answering.
Leticia:
Catering? For authentic Italian food served in the most esteemed Gregorio D’Medici’s home? It doesn’t matter that La Fatel Piedra is an authentic Italian restaurant. No, it all must be made by a D’Medici to be real.
After I send it,the realization that I may have said too much rises up from my toes to my head, and I go to send another message to clarify that I’m not complaining, but Royal beats me to it.
Royal:
I’ll stay up with you, if you’d like. I’m up working on a project too. Mine is more boring. If you want, we could even call.
It’ll be almostmidnight when I get home. Surely, he doesn’t mean that. But it would be rude to not text him back.
Leticia:
You want to stay up well after midnight while I prep ingredients for tomorrow morning? It could take hours.
There’s a lull in texting,and I’m sure Royal has realized the insanity of that. Though a small part of me liked the possibility. My inside joy feels squashed and discarded.
