Chapter Five
ELENA
The cab is rattling down West Broadway when my phone buzzes again, and I swear my stomach tries to exit my body through my spine.
I reread Colt’s last message.
Colt: I’ll meet you there at 7:30.
Uh oh.
Absolutely not.
I slap a hand over my mouth.
“What happened?” the cab driver asks without looking back.
“I… uh… forgot my work badge,” I say.
“That’s rough.”
“And my trainer is bringing it to me.”
He whistles. “That’s nice of him.”
“Is it?” I ask, feeling my voice go too high, too tight. “IS IT??”
He shrugs. “Depends. Are you into him, or…?”
I bury my face in my hands.
“Oh my God.”
By the time I burst into my apartment, I’m in full meltdown mode.
I kick my shoes off so hard they ricochet off the wall.
My phone rings.
It’s Harper with a FaceTime, and I answer immediately. “Help.”
“What did you do?” she demands.
“Nothing!” I pace aggressively. “I forgot my stupid badge and now Colt—my trainer—my TWENTY-SEVEN-YEAR-OLD TRAINER—is bringing it to my DATE.”
Harper lets out a loud giggle that borders on a scream.
“Elena. ELENA. This is—oh my God—this isfate.”
“No,” I say. “This is humiliation. This is the ghost of bad decisions past haunting me.”
“It’s a sign.”
“It’s not a sign!”
“Elena,” she says in her ‘best friend voice.’ “Hot men don’t cross boroughs to return ID badges unless they like you or they’re serial killers. And he doesn’t give serial-killer vibes.”
I flail an arm. “He’s being NICE. He’s a NICE PERSON. But it’s like, we’re trying to keep things professional. He gave me this whole talk today that his boss doesn’t want him flirting with clients like me. So…isn’t this the exact opposite of keeping things professional? Also my date will probably see him. Oh God, this is so embarrassing. I just, I’ve had so many things on my mind lately.”
