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“You get any interest?”
“I may have had some.”
“Leigh—”
“One person. That’s all.”
“You have to take it.”
“Maybe.”
“You already agreed to take it.” Though that isn’t going to buy me shit. If Leighton doesn’t want to do something, she won’t. End of story.
“But…” She takes a long sip of her coffee. “What if they hate my work?”
“They won’t.”
“What if they do?”
“You’re amazing.”
“You’re amazing. You still have unsatisfied customers from time to time.”
That’s true. Sometimes, you never manage to communicate with someone no matter how hard you try. “Give them a refund and refer them to someone else.”
“Maybe.”
“They’ll love it. I promise.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’ll tattoo bigger than Frank above my dick.”
She laughs. “You will not.”
“Will too.”
“No, I can’t allow you to mar your perfect body. But… Oh. How about this? You have to wear your glasses to work for a month.”
Fuck, that is a horrifying idea, as far as mildly horrifying ideas go. “All right. Fine.” I offer my hand.
She shakes. But she doesn’t look triumphant. More scared.
“We should celebrate this. And you finishing your class.” I want to celebrate her twenty-four seven. I want to celebrate everything she does.
“Maybe. Penny’s party is the next day.”
“You have it memorized?”
“Yeah. What’s with having a joint bachelor, bachelorette party?”
“It’s an excuse to get drunk.”
She laughs. “But isn’t the whole idea of a bachelor party so you can lament how awful it is to be tied to one woman forever?”
“You’re asking me?”
“You are a man.”
