“Nothing,” I say. “We just let it sit and then posted her album announcement two days later, and everyone moved on.”
“We need to do the same kind of thing here.”
I shake my head. “The cat post could get major legs over the weekend.”
“Not if we hit it with more behind-the-scenes shots tomorrow,” he says.
“That’s a good idea,” I say. “But what could we use? I think the only thing we have are the clips of them rehearsing that Victoria nixed.”
“Maybe she’d let us under the circumstances?”
I look at him. “Should we ask?”
We send an email to Victoria from Luke’s laptop. Hopefully she’ll appreciate us trying to stop this thing in its tracks. She might also think we’re total idiots for asking again. We’ll just have to wait and see what she comes back with. Perhaps the email will just say: “You’re fired.” Anything could happen at this point.
I send a text to Bailey to let her know we’ve got a plan and that I’ll keep her updated.
Then, because I’m bored, I put both feet on the ground, and leaning toward the coffee table, I start looking through the loose puzzle pieces, needing something to do other than fret over Victoria’s response.
“Do you mind?” I ask Luke, with a nod towardthe puzzle.
“Go for it,” he says.
I start searching for pieces to fill the inside of the border, and it’s not long before Luke is next to me.
“How was your date before the cat disaster?” he asks as we both work on filling in gaps.
“Um,” I say, caught off guard by the question. He’s just so casual about it, like we talk about this kind of stuff all the time. “It was . . . good. He’s a nice guy.”
Luke looks at me, and I keep my face forward, focused on the puzzle. “Nice, huh?”
“Yeah. We didn’t get that far into the date before I had to leave. But it was pleasant.”
I see Luke shake his head in my periphery.
“What?” I ask, a loose puzzle piece in my hand as I turn to look at him.
“Nice. Pleasant. Sounds like a review for your dentist. Was your routine cleaning satisfactory?”
I laugh. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Well, was he clever? Did he make you laugh?” He nudges me with his shoulder.
“It was a short date.” I look back at the puzzle.
“It doesn’t take long to figure that out.”
“Maybe I don’t want someone who makes me laugh,” I say.
“Nah,” he says. “You definitely do.”
I feel sort of irritated, but weirdly fascinated, that Luke thinks he has me pegged.
I sit up. “Okay, Luke, since you know so much, what kind of man do you think is my type?” I’m sure I’ll regret asking this, but I’m too curious.
He thinks about it for a few seconds. “Someone clever who makes you laugh, but also someone who isn’t intimidated by you. Because you’re a lot—and I mean that as a compliment.”
“Thank you for clarifying,” I say flatly. “Also, I’m not a lot.”
