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“He wants todate,” I tell her, pushing open my door.
Millie hurries in behind me, dragging my suitcase. “What? No! You can’t do that.”
I turn, confused. This was the same woman who egged me on to enjoy his gorgeous body in Palm Springs.
“You were the one who said to go for it!”
“Yeah, back the only thing you were risking was some professional awkwardness.” She clucks at me. “But look at you! You’re all starry-eyed and swooning. This is gonna be messy.”
“I know.” I wail. “Iknow.”
“You have to tell him everything.” Millie warns me. “Before this really gets out of hand.”
“I tried!” I protest. “On the Ferris wheel. He was talking about cards on the table, and getting to know the real me, and I opened my mouth, and…”
“And what?” Millie asks, already unwrapping my airline pretzels like she’s at a movie.
“And then he felt me up, and the words went right out of my head,” I admit, burying my face in my hands.
“He felt you up on a Ferris wheel!” Millie’s screech could be heard in the Outer Bronx.
“And then again in the pool. And the shower…” I blush hotly at the memories. “God, Millie, he’s just too good. And he talks dirty, too.”
“No,” she gasps.
“And I like it!”
“I hate you.” She munches a pretzel. “I mean, I love you, but I hate you.”
“I kind of hate me too,” I agree.
We sit a moment, as Millie crunches another pretzel. “So,” she ventures. “What are you going to do about the dirty-talking, sweet-hearted sex god?”
I sigh. “Tell him the truth. I have to, right?” I look at her, hoping she’s got some complex moral justification for me absolutely not rocking the boat.
But nope. Millie nods. “You kind of do, babe.”
“I’ll tell him on our date tomorrow.” I decide. “He might even find it funny. Because it is, isn’t it? One big screwball mixup. I just need to figure out how to phrase it.”
“Well,” Millie says, “Both Milo and the baby are asleep, so I’m available for roleplay. I accept payment in the form of wine.”
My phone makes a series of vibrations from inside my purse, and I fish it out, seeing a ton messages from the Stitch n Bitch group chat arrived during the flight.
10AM tomorrow, right?
Am I first shift?
Lottie, can you resend the schedule?
“Crapwaffle,” I mutter. “I forgot about the charity knit-a-thon tomorrow. I’ll have to postpone my date with Austin.”
Millie gives me an appraising look. “You sure that’s why you want to postpone? Not because you’re afraid to come clean?”
I glower at her. “I miss the Millie I called from Palm Springs.”
“Yeah, well.” She shrugs, unbothered. “She got a good night’s sleep and came to her senses.”
I roll my eyes at her and dial Austin before I can lose my nerve. He answers on the second ring.
