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Me: Are you going out tonight?
Thankfully, he answered right away.
Bash: No, hanging out with Kody.
Me: Can I stop by?
Bash: Stop by? Where are you?
Me: Home.
Bash: Sure, you can come by. It’ll probably take you 45 minutes, though. I’m not close.
Me: I know where you live.
Bash: Do you want to come for dinner?
Me: If you have enough. I don’t need anything fancy.
Bash: Chicken nuggets ok?
Bash: Just kidding.
Bash: Get over here.
Me: See you soon.
I stuffed the DVD into my purse, grabbed my car keys, and was walking to the elevator before I could talk myself out of going.
My Mercedes was in its parking space just where I’d left it three weeks ago. I didn’t drive my car all that often, using it mostly when I wanted to escape the city. Somewhere I’d heard that you should start your car at least once a week, but between Vegas and being busy, I hadn’t driven it for almost a month. I breathed a sigh of relief when it started without a hitch and began the drive to Bash’s house out in the suburbs.
It wasn’t for too long in the stop-and-go L.A. traffic before I realized I was still wearing my 4-inch stilettos from work. I’d been so flustered by the DVD that I never changed out of my work clothes when I got home. Not about to turn around, I slipped the shoe off my right foot and drove the rest of the way barefoot.
I pulled up Bash’s driveway and parked, and then I jumped out of the car right away before I could change my mind. I was nervous about seeing him again.
He answered the door wearing a fitted black T-shirt and gray sweatpants. How he made simple cotton loungewear look so hot, I’d never know.
“Hi.” I stood on his porch awkwardly.
He stepped to the side and waved me in. “C’mon in. Kody is just finishing his dinner.”
He led me into the kitchen where Kody was standing on top of the table, grinning ear to ear.
“Kody! How many times do I have to tell you?” Sebastian swept him off the table and then set him back in his seat. “No standing on the table. You could fall and get hurt.”
Kody ignored his dad and waved his hand at me.
“Hi, Kody.” I smiled at him. He was so cute and a little miniature version of Bash. There was no mistaking the resemblance between father and son.
“Kody, do you remember my friend Lacey?” Bash asked him.
Kody nodded. “Hi, Yacey. Do you want some nuggets?”
Sebastian stepped in before I had to answer. “Lacey is going to eat dinner with me, little man. Why don’t you finish up so you can play before bedtime?”
“Okay, Dad.”
His plate was almost empty, but I saw a few grapes, some broccoli spears, and a blob of sweet potato still remaining.
