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"What's his name?" she asked, glancing at him once.
"Chris."
"Okay. Ask him to come himself if he's interested."
Giselle gulped. Drunk Chris was not impressive. Drunk Chris knocked things over. Drunk Chris talked to potatoes. She cleared her throat, then said, "He's shy and uh, wants to take you out... Would you mind giving me your number, instead?"
Abigail looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "If he doesn't act, honey, he's not worth it."
"Oh, he acts."
Abigail raised both her eyebrows.
Giselle cleared her throat. "I mean, I know that because we've been friends since forever. But I assure you, he's daddy material."
The lady in front of her pursed her lips, her eyes bulging slightly, then the corners of her mouth twitched up.
Giselle's entire existence stopped at the realization, a buzz of embarrassment running through her body.What did I just say?
She licked her lips. "What I meant was... What I wanted to say was..."
Abigail chuckled. "It's okay. But I'm not handing out my number unless he has the guts to ask for it himself. For all I know, he stammers when he talks."
Her smile fell at the insensitive words. She wanted to call her out on it or defend Chris, but bit her lip instead, still awkward at the words she'd uttered earlier. "Right. One sample of male specie coming right up."
Before Abigail could say anything else, she hurried toward her best friend.
"Hello!" Chris greeted her with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
"You have to ask her for her number. Right now," she said to him over the loud music.
Chris merged his brows. "Who?"
"I'll take you to her." She was sure Abigail was looking at them, so she had to play it cool.
He looked at her as if she was crazy. "I'm going nowhere."
"Please, please! I already talked to her."
"Giselle, life doesn't have to be so complicated..." he slurred.
"Okay, first of all, you will keep your speech at the minimum. Second, you will act shy because that's how I pitched you." Chris opened his mouth to, no doubt, protest, but she spoke over him, "And third, you will be a gentleman who asks for a lady's number at a club, and then we'll be out."
His eyes sparkled at the last sentence. "We go home?"
She smiled smugly. "Only after you do exactly as I say."
"I get her number, that's all?"
"And you'll call her and go on a date, of course!"
"Not happening, Cupid."
She folded her arms, and as her last resort, she started rambling, "It's rude not to call. And maybe you'll like her. She's so sweet! She's got the prettiest hair. And I'll look ridiculous if you don't. For me, please? As my birthday gift."
He smirked. "Your birthday is on the twenty fifth of April next year."
She wondered how he could remember that considering how drunk he was. "Early birthday present?" She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.
