Georgina: What do you think?
My heart rate spikes.
Me: But did you come back to your room alone?
Georgina: None of your business. But because I’m a saint, and we’re friends, I will admit the guy who hit on me at the bar was a turd. He was good looking, but within two minutes of talking to him, I hated his guts. And not in a good way. Not the way I hate your guts. Like, for real.
I sigh with the force of a thousand hurricanes. And smile at the backhanded compliment.
Me: Thank you for telling me that. I had a semi-psychotic breakdown tonight, imagining you going home with someone else. The thought damn near gave me a stroke. I actually drove around for hours tonight, aimlessly looking for your parked car outside random bars.
Georgina: You did not.
Me: I did. Bernie says hi, btw.
Georgina: You went to Bernie’s Place? Well, that’s not crazy or anything.
Me: You drive me crazy.
Georgina: Good.
Me: Georgie, let me come to your hotel now. I need to see you.
Georgina: It’s almost 3:00.
Me: I don’t care.
Georgina: Well, I do. I’ve got important meetings at work tomorrow, including one with CeeCee and Zasu. I need to get some sleep, so I can kick ass tomorrow.
I feel oddly encouraged about this entire exchange. She isn’t shutting down the concept of seeing me, really. She seems to be saying now isn’t a good time.
Me: Okay, let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night.
Georgina: Zasu and I are doing a working dinner tomorrow night, probably until late into the night.
Me: Lunch tomorrow, then.
Georgina: Like I said, I’m going to be in meetings at RnR tomorrow.
Me: Still, you need to eat.
Georgina: I’ll grab a sandwich at my desk.
Me: When can I see you?
Three little dots wiggle underneath my text, signaling Georgina is typing. But, suddenly, the dots disappear. And no text from her arrives for a long moment. I stare at the screen for what seems like forever, willing something to appear, until, finally:
Georgina: I’m sure our paths will cross organically, thanks to the special issue. Let’s let fate take the wheel.
Me: Fuck fate. I’m taking the wheel.
Georgina: I’ve got to get some sleep. Goodnight, Reed.
I stare at my phone. Excitement, disappointment, determination, relief coursing through me. Finally, I tap out my reply.
Me: Goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams. XO
Again, those three little wiggling dots appear underneath my text, and I hold my breath, praying for a little “XO” from Georgina in reply to mine. But another text from Georgina never comes. And so, finally, I put my phone on the nightstand, roll over and force myself to sleep.
