“Best out of three,” he says instead, that grin the perfect companion with the glint in his eye. Warmth coats me from my head down to my toes.
I walk past him, making my way toward the table as my face splits with an elated smile, tickled by the current coursing through my body—and I don’t think once about how much I shouldn’t let it.
Track 7
“Fascination” Nat King Cole, 1957
November–JAKE
ME:What’s the name of the studio again?
ALANA:Melody in Motion.
Since the night Alana kidnapped me against my will and forcefully fed me an obscene amount of alcohol, I’ve made texting with her an annoyingly regular occurrence. I try to make it seem like the conversation is going to be strictly project related, all while finding new angles to mess with her.
This may not be the most gentlemanly thing I’ve ever said, but messing with Alana has quickly become the most fun I’ve had in the last six months. I like her snappy remarks and how her nose scrunches when I say something outlandish. Ilike picturing her doing it when I text her something I know will spark the reaction. I also like how she pretends my comments don’t affect her at all, when I know they very much do.
Needless to say, my new fascination with her has made for an entertaining last few weeks.
The good news is she hasn’t caught on to this bit of mine, or at least not enough to stop it. In every conversation, her comments are valid and useful to the project itself. Mine remain vague, subtly pointless, and usually include just enough poking to get her attention.
We’re currently working on a music slash dance studio she wants to open one day, and as promised, she’s taking the assignment seriously. So, naturally, I’m asking questions that are of absolutely no help at all.
ME:Eh, I feel like we should revisit it.
ALANA:Why on earth would we do that?! We spent, like, three hours picking out a name last Tuesday. It’s done. I already made the logo and did all the marketing designs this week.
ME:Idk. Projections for Hustle & Mo’ are looking prettyyy good.
This is in no way true. I haven’t done projections for either name, and I’m more than sure her title will do just fine, if not better than my ridiculous option, but she doesn’t need to know that. Not right now, anyway. I just want to get her over here.
ALANA:Jake. I will actually murder you if you make me changethe name right now.
ME:It’s not me, it’s the projections! Murder them. Also, you should know murder is highly frowned upon as a new business owner. Gonna be hard to get a loan as a convicted felon. Just sayin’.
ALANA:UGH! Are you home??
ME:I’m here, baby.
ALANA:Don’t call me that.
ME:Sweetie?
ME:Honey?
When she doesn’t answer, I kick it up a notch.
ME:I know you liked it when you called me Daddy.
I can almost see her crystal eyes squint with her nose scrunched, a tinge of pink hitting her cheeks. I can hear that frazzled little grunt she gives as if she’s actually frustrated with me.
ALANA:First of all, YOU called yourself that, and no, I did NOTlike it.
I smile at my phone, remembering the night we played pool. The way her eyes danced playfully across the table and landed on mine. The sway of her hips as she sashayed from point to point, finding the right angle before she sank each ball. The way her cheeks became a perfect tint of rose, first with alcohol, then with a want she tried to hide. The way her eyes lingered on mine and said the same things mine did.
My grin widens.
ME:Liar.
