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"Sometimes I think you were a guy in your previous life."
"I probably was. I didn't see a ring, not that it matters, but he was wearing a white Henley that I could easily see his tats through. His chest and back are covered in ink." She all but drools. I laugh, hoping she doesn't fall into a puddle at her chair.
"Just his chest and back? No sleeves?"
Now she has hearts in her eyes.
"Both arms, babe," she says. "And he was wearing these slate gray slacks that hugged his fine ass." She mock whimpers. "And his boots… He looked fresh off fashion week. If I didn't know the name of the class, I wouldn't be able to tell you what it was about. I couldn't stop staring. I want to do bad things with him."
I sip my coffee. "You and all the other girls too, probably."
Her eyes flare and I chuckle. Natalie is competitive.
"I'll cut their eyes out with my nails if they look at him."
"I bet he's gay," I say, killing her vibe.
"Probably is. It’s so unfair." She pouts for a moment. "All the hot guys who can dress better than me are always gay and taken. Always. They're scooped up real quick. I need a gay best friend. No strings attached, a guy I can gossip with and shop with and hang out with all the time."
"When you find him, tell him it's a package deal, because I want one too," I say.
"Only because I love you will I do that. You know girls never share when they get one." She smiles. "So…" Her voice trails off.
"No," I say immediately, and put my coffee down. I know the scheming look in her eyes.
"But it's your twenty-first birthday in two weeks and I want to take you out."
"I'm sure I have to work."
She levels a stare at me. "I know you don't. I already checked your calendar. You have Mom duty this weekend, but your birthday weekend is wide open," she announces and
smiles.
"I'm going to see Grammy."
Natalie isn't impressed and gives me a droll stare. I can't help but laugh again. All we ever do is laugh.
"All weekend long? Stop lying. See her during the day, and then you’re mine that Saturday night. We won't hit the clubs until at least ten, then you'll have Sunday to recuperate. If you want to spend all day with her, fine, but at night you're mine, and I'm taking you out. And before you say anything else to find a way out of it, I'm paying for everything and dressing you up." She smiles.
I groan in protest. "Nat, I don't want to."
"That's too bad. You live in the greatest city in the world. You don't have a boyfriend, and you're turning twenty-one. We're going out," she states firmly, not taking no for an answer.
"I need a boyfriend."
"You don't have time for a boyfriend," she counters.
"True, but after a night of drinking, I'm going to wish I had one."
"Then hook up with a rando in a bathroom and move on."
I tip my cup toward her. Wouldn't be my first time. "Not a bad idea."
"So it's a deal?" she asks, and I don’t miss the eager tone in her voice.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
