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Fantine rubbed her temples dramatically. “Hey, isn’t that your phone ringing?” she whined.
She was right. I dashed to my room where I’d dumped my purse the night before and dug for my cell. There was a call coming in from a number I didn’t know, but it was the local area code. I took a chance and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Kealy, it’s Marlon. Marlon Talbot.”
Holy shit. Another one of the guys.
“Oh. Marlon. Hi, how are you?” Shit, was he calling to tell me to pay for the damage Kealy had done to his fiddle leaf fig? Or that we’d never be allowed back over there?
If that were the case, Fantine was really going to get a piece of my mind. She thought she already felt crappy…well, just wait.
“Hey, Marlon, I wanted to apologize for my friend making a mess of your house last night. I’m so sorry.” I’d walked back to the living room so Fantine could hear me apologize on her behalf, and so I could make her feel really shitty.
“Oh, it was your friend who did that? Ha, I had no idea. Someone cleaned it up right anyway. Probably Cross or someone like that. He’s always cleaning things ever since he had a kid.”
Cross had a kid? Was that why he smelled like baby powder?
“Yes, that was my friend Fantine.” I stuck my tongue out at her. She gave me the finger in return.
“Hey, it’s all good. No worries. I was just calling to see if you were free for a late lunch today. I’d call it brunch but that’s more Sunday-ish, and today’s Saturday.”
Okay. Just like Rand had said…
“Kealy? You still there?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, sorry. I um, saw a pigeon on my window sill and got distracted.” Okay, that was one of the worst lies I’d ever told.
“Oh, yeah. Pigeons. Anyway, what do you say? Meet me at the Uptown at one o’clock?” he asked.
“Okay,” I blurted out. “I’ll see you then.”
I hadn’t even swiped my phone closed when Fantine pounced.
“Who the hell was that? Did you just get asked out? Was it Rand or Cross?”
I had to gather myself before I could speak.
“Neither. It was Marlon, our host from last night. I’m meeting him at the Uptown.”
Fantine’s mouth dropped open. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
I nodded, and my thoughts immediately flew to the most important decision I’d make all day.
What was I going to wear?
But I needn’t worry about something like that, because my dear roommate, who owed me anyway, sprang into action.
“C’mon. I’m gonna help you get ready.”
* * *
An hour later, Fantine and I had pulled off a casual, low-maintenance look that actually took a hell of a lot of work to accomplish. But thanks to her theater background, she knew all about hair and makeup, and she had a natural knack for pulling together cute outfits. And god knew, I had no shortage of clothes.
“So anyway, if you have lunch with Marlon, will the other guys be pissed? Rand and Cross? And what was the fourth one’s name?” she asked.
I added a bit more lip gloss in case it wore off on the subway ride to the Upper West Side.
“The fourth one is Shane. The Irish guy. And I don’t know if they’ll be pissed, to be honest. I’m not sure how all this works. You know, it’s not like I’ve done it before.”
She pressed a finger to her chin and nodded thoughtfully. “True. That is true. Hmmm.” She ushered me to the door. “Text me and let me know how it’s going, okay?”
“I might. No promises,” I said to torment her. “When you feel better, you might go to the plant store on the corner.”
“We’ll see. I am gonna chill and see if there’s a good movie on. Maybe eat one of those donuts you got.”
Oops.
“I hate to break it to you, Fantine. There actually are no donuts. I only said that to make you barfy.” I tried not to laugh.
A scowl washed over her face, which only made me laugh harder. “You creep. I’ve been fighting this hangover and am finally feeling better, just so I could have a donut. You’re so mean.”
She pulled the front door open and mock pushed me into the hallway. She threw her head back, probably just as she’d done in some play or another.
“Get out. And nevahhhh come back. I mean it.”
With that, she slammed the apartment door in my face.
I walked away, smiling at her drama, as she howled with crazy-lady laughter on the other side of the door.
