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“I’m not calling him,” I said firmly.
“Why not?”
“What would I say?”
Samantha rolled her eyes and said, “How about ‘thank you’? Or maybe tell him how grateful your client was. Or hell, ask him out for dinner. You never know. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“I’m not the one-night stand type,” I said, crossing my arms.
“I meant get lucky and he says yes to dinner,” she corrected. I felt bad, but only until she added, “And before you put a one-night stand aside, it would beat the hell out of a one-year hiatus from sex.”
“I’ve been working.” Which actually was the truth.
“So have I. But all work and no play makes for a very boring life. You need to get out and go to one of these events that you stand in line for. If you want, I can see if Marcel has a friend and we can double-date.”
“No, thank you. I’m capable of finding my own dates.”
“Then do it already and let me go to mine,” Samantha huffed.
I knew it was time to walk out before I said something that we’d both regret later. We didn’t fight often, but when we did, it usually ended in tears and both of us felt like shit for days.
A guy I don’t even know isn’t worth it.
As I laid down on my bed, my phone dinged to announce an email. That meant another job. I skimmed the details and responded with my rates and agreed on the delivery time. It was not even close to what I’d made on the gig with Greg, but these tickets weren’t as hard to come by. It was a circus. There was a lot of front row seating available. Even if I was tenth in line, I’d score what he needed for his grandkids.
This job had a few bonuses. I got to imagine the look on the person’s face when they received their surprise tickets. I helped people, in a very small way, to make beautiful, treasured memories.
My phone dinged again, but this time it was a text message. It was probably Samantha apologizing. As you should. Instantly, I felt bad and knew that I should be apologizing, too. She really only pushed me because she cared. But sometimes, she cared too much.
Not even reading her text, I responded. I’M SORRY.
She replied, IS THAT A YES OR NO?
Scrolling up, I read her original message. It wasn’t what I’d thought.
GUY AT THE DOOR FOR YOU. DO I SAY YOU’RE HOME OR NOT?
I wasn’t expecting anyone and Samantha didn’t provide a name. It probably was better to keep her out of it. No way would she stop at just the guy’s name. Knowing her, it would turn into an interrogation.
I’LL BE RIGHT THERE.
I got off my bed, looked in the mirror and decided that whoever it was had to take me the way I was. This is what you get when you show up unexpectedly. Everything about me said I was in for the night. Oversized t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants. At least I still had my bra on. Another few minutes and that would’ve been history, too.
When I left my room, Samantha was standing there with her coat on and her purse in hand. “How do I look?”
She spun around and I answered honestly, “Like he’s one lucky guy.” I walked over and gave her a quick hug. “Hope you have a good time tonight.”
She said, “I know. Just not too much fun.”
My words usually fall on deaf ears, but tonight, her makeup wasn’t over the top and her dress was sexy but conservative. I could only hope that this doctor guy was smart enough to appreciate Samantha for the gem she was. Just make sure you show him.
“I better get going, and don’t forget to buzz the guy up. I figured you might want some privacy,” she winked.
And I was thinking I’d rather know who the hell it was before letting him up. No way was I inviting a stranger inside while I was alone. I might not have an issue with standing alone for tickets, but I always had my pepper spray ready if things got weird.
Samantha left, and I pressed the intercom. “This is Lindsay. Who’s this?”
“Heart. Phillip Heart.”
