5
BECCA
"You're doingwhat?"
Grace's voice was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear or risk serious damage.
"I'm having dinner with him. Relax, it's just work." I pressed the speaker icon and set the phone down beside the sink. From an almost full bag, I grabbed a makeup remover wipe and swiped it across my eyelids.
"Even after he cottoned on to what you were trying to do?" Grace asked.
"Yeah." I wiped the other eyelid. "I guess that was kinda dumb." Why I thought he'd fall for that act, I don't know. It seemed like a great idea at the time. And I had to admit, it was a bit of fun to be someone else for a while. I wouldn't win any awards for my investigative work or acting though.
Why did this expensive makeup take so much effort to remove? Mascara clung to my eyelashes like a toddler to their mother’s leg, refusing to let go.
"Youdidget his attention," Grace pointed out. "Maybe he's interested after all."
"That’s highly doubtful." I tossed the wipe in the bin and grabbed a clean one for the rest of my face. The more I wiped,the redder my face became, and the more freckles I saw in the mirror.
Wiping away the fake me to reveal the real me. I preferred this version of myself. From now on, I'd be myself and no one else around Hawk Florence.
My reflection grimaced back at me as soon as I let that thought free. From now on? As far as I was concerned, this dinner was a one time thing. Then we'd go back to being strangers and trying to forget the other person existed.
"Don't sell yourself short," Grace said sternly.
I pictured her expression, eyes narrowed, chin tilted to one side.
"Are you shaking your finger at me?" I asked. "Because I can't see it if you are."
A brief silence was followed by, "I might be. But what I said stands. You're always underestimating yourself. You're cute, smart and successful. You deserve to have guys falling at your feet."
"Maybe I should get a puppy," I said. "They're always underfoot." And ready to chew all my shoes, if they didn't pee in them first.
Grace laughed. "I meant human guys. Every time one looks at you, or asks you out, you always run and hide."
"I don't run," I argued. Hide, maybe. Who doesn't love a good blanket fort, or evening in the bath with a good book? "Anyway, I'm not running and hiding tonight, am I?"
"Are you wearing that slinky black dress I helped you pick out?" she asked.
"I don't think that's quite the right outfit for Gianna's." I was glad I stepped away from the sink, because Grace squealed.
"That place is so good!"
"So I've heard," I said as if I didn't care. Honestly, I was excited to dine out. I was lucky to eat at the local burger placemore than a couple of times a year. The microwave was my third best friend, after Grace and my vibrator.
"And you think he doesn't like you," Grace said.
"A guy like him probably has Gianna herself on speed dial." It was difficult to reconcile the guy I used to know with the one he became. He was probably rolling in money. I knew he had a house overlooking the ocean, which cost about a bajillion dollars. Maybe I should ask if I could do one of those articles featuring his home. 'Lifestyles of the stinking rich, that the average Joe couldn't hope to afford.'
That was unfair, I supposed. He worked hard to get where he was. Why shouldn't he spend his money on nice things? It was probably quite the change from his parents’ small house in the 'burbs, with the tired furniture and crayon marks on the wall. Did his parents still live there, or had he bought them something somewhere nicer?
"At least you havemeon speed dial," Grace said, a grin in her voice.
I smiled toward the phone. "Yeah, I do. I'm glad for that. You're a great friend."
"Don't forget me when you're living it up," she said. "Rubbing elbows with the elite and all that."
I snorted. "Remember when I said it's a one time thing? I meant that."
