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“It is. So is the rest of it.”
Grace dropped her blouse in the dry-cleaning pile. “What are you trying to say here, Jake?”
He made a little sound of exasperation. “This phone call is not going as planned.”
“You had a plan?”
“Yes,” he grumbled. “I was trying to ask you over for Chinese food.”
“You want to have dinner together? At your place?” Grace 1.0 tittered. They’d always hung out at her place, and this definitely marked the first time he suggested she come over. It felt important somehow.
“It was supposed to be simple and casual,” he muttered.
“Just like we’re supposed to be?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah, and look how well that’s going.”
“You know, there was a better way to start this conversation if that was what you were after. Maybe you could’ve skipped the reference to other women?”
“I was being suave.”
“No, you were being vague. Next time, try ‘Hey, Grace, want to come over and order Chinese?’ ”
“That has no game.”
“Exactly.”
He sighed. “Grace.”
“Yeah?”
“Come over.”
She smiled at the impatience in his voice. “I just changed my clothes.”
“So?”
“So … I look … sloppy.”
“Good.”
“You’re not the type of guy that women wear their comfy clothes around.”
Silence. “Well, maybe I want to be.”
Go, 2.0 whispered quietly.
Grace froze. Whaaaat?
Surely 2.0 wasn’t turning on her. She needed 2.0 to keep her distance. Needed 2.0 to remind her why she absolutely, positively could not have feelings for Jake.
“The food will be here in thirty,” he said. “I’m texting you my address. If you’re not here before the food, everyone on the website will know all about that jaguar noise you make when you come.”
He clicked off before she had a comeback, and she stared in dismay at her cell phone.
She pulled the neckline of her T-shirt out to take a quick look at her bra. Ugly. The panties were even worse.
But they were comfy. And there was no guarantee he’d see them anyway, since Chinese food was hardly synonymous with foreplay. Maybe he just wanted a dining companion.
