"Send me photos of the inside of Gianna's?" Grace asked.
"That would be classy," I said sarcastically. "They probably don't even allow phones inside." At least not out of bags and pockets.
"The bathrooms then," she said. "I bet even those are incredible. Just think how many people have fuc?—"
I interrupted her with, "I'mnottaking photos of the bathrooms." I certainly didn't want to think about how many people had been intimate in them. Ick.
"Spoilsport," Grace said cheerfully. "You'll have to give me all the details afterward then. How else am I to live vicariously through you?"
"I'll tell you everything," I promised. "But it's not healthy to live through someone else."
"That's what my therapist says," Grace said. "She thinks I should spend more time with other people, not just my cats. I'm starting to think her qualifications are bogus. I mean, cats are the best company. After you, I mean."
"Sure." I drew the word out. Her cats were pretty great company, fur and all. "You're one more cat away from not being able to remember my name."
Grace laughed. "That's not true. I forgot that when I got the last cat."
I laughed too. "Gee, thanks. Now tell me, what should I wear to Gianna's?"
"Your best bra and panties," Grace replied immediately. "Just in case."
"There will be no 'just in case' tonight," I assured her. Still, it wouldn't hurt to wear nice underwear to make myself feel good.
"What do I wear over that?" I wished I could get away with jeans and a t-shirt, but I should dress like I was working.
"That chocolate skirt that falls just above your knee and the champagne blouse you got last time we went shopping," she said.
"Have you catalogued my wardrobe?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied with a laugh. "And leave your hair down. But don't forget lipstick."
"Yes, Mother," I replied. She was right though, the outfit was perfect and I needed to make a bigger effort than just a touch of lipgloss.
I washed my face properly and turned on my hair straightener. To my surprise, it still worked. When was the lasttime I used it? I shrugged at my reflection and started to work on my hair.
"This is a lot of effort for work," I said.
"Don't think of it as work," Grace said. "Even if Florence is a lost cause, you might meet someone at Gianna's who will sweep you off your feet."
"Yeah, they might have a cute server or two," I said.
"Or better yet, the chef." Grace sounded much more enthusiastic about that. "Just think, you'd never have to have another microwave soup for one again."
"I'm not sure that's how that works," I said. Weren't chefs notorious for not cooking at home? "I'm not going there to meet someone."
"Make sure you get a doggie bag," she said. "I'll be over for lunch. Unless you're, um, busy."
I shook my head at her, even though she couldn't see it. "I'll save you some leftovers for lunch."
"It's a date," she said. "Laters." The line went dead.
"Yeah, later," I said to the phone. I set the straightener down to cool and got dressed.
I debated wearing heels, but went for flats instead. I didn't want to look too fancy for just a work dinner.
While I slipped my feet into my shoes, I mulled over the press conference. I didn't know much about the new coach apart from his name, but he seemed to know what he was talking about.
I caught Hawk watching him through narrowed eyes at one point and wondered if they had bad blood. The moment he noticed me looking, his expression returned to a careful neutral. That lasted until Coach Franks spoke about his wife, Lori and her condition. Then, I thought everyone, especially the attending team members, might cry. It was an insight into how close they all were. They worked together shoulder to shoulder,through long, gruelling days. They were more like family than workmates. When one of them was hurting, they all were.
