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Bruce curls up beside me. I tuck my arm over him, then yawn again before letting sleep take me.
“Sammy!” The barista calls.
I pull my head from the chain of messages I’m sending to a man whose screen name isTobyToby. I reached out to him Monday evening after reviewing his profile and asked him about his double name. We’ve been chatting since then.
I won’t lie, Veronica has me sucked into the addiction of swiping on a profile, and once I found a couple of decent guys who weren’t trying to creep me out with their odd requests, I’d been able to hold a decent conversation.
It’s not like I’ll want to meet any of them in person, but the adult conversation outside of Veronica and our clients is refreshing. It’s made the week go by fast. Friday is here, and it feels like I just said goodbye to my kids this morning, not five days ago.
Do I attribute it toTobyToby? Definitely.
I grab my drink and slide my phone into the purse dangling from my arm. The harmless flirting can continue when I’m home and finished with work for the weekend. I’ve got about an hour left of work for the week before I can call it and head to the farm. I miss the kids, and Dad might be mad when I show up, but asking me to be away from them for fourteen days won’t happen.
A few emails following up on a client’s birthday party and invites to send out for Saoirse’s bridal shower, plus follow-ups for the last minute change in the bouquet for the wedding.
I settle into my spot, laptop open and ready to tackle the last bit. The chiming of the dating app goes off, and call me eager, I dive into my purse to check the notifications.
TobyToby:Cute Joke
SamCat:Something witty.
TobyToby:I’m loving where this convo is going. Do you think we could move it to a coffee meet up tomorrow?
I suck in a breath. I need to focus to get this stuff done so I can see my babies. Plus, I’m just not sure I want to take it that far.
SamCat:I’m actually out of town this weekend. Rain Check?
TobyToby:Bummer. Totally will cash in on that.
SamCat:Look forward to it.
I close my eyes, attempting to focus when my phone goes off. “God damn it,” I mumble.
“Hey Saoirse. What can I help you with?” I greet, my customer service voice in full force.
“Hey, Sammy. I’m calling to give you a heads up. We need to adjust the cake tasting.”
“Oh?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
Saoirse and Scotty are scheduled for a cake tasting tonight. If she cancels at the last minute, I’m going to blow a gasket. I spent three weeks trying to get her into a vegan bakery that didn’t have food that tasted like sandpaper.
“Declan will do the tasting.”
“What?” I ask, thankful she isn’t dropping this on me in person. I’m not sure I’d be able to hide my utter surprise at the news.
“He’s going to do the cake tasting. I trust him to get it done.”
“Oh,” I say, still trying to make my brain catch up.
Who the hell enlists their brother to do that? Especially someone like Saoirse, who even struggles to let me do my job sometimes. She’s not a Bridezilla the way I’ve had in the past, but she definitely has strong opinions and high expectations. Both of which I understand and embrace fully as an event coordinator.
Saoirse knowing what she likes and not making my job easy, sure. But this? This is just throwing me through a loop right now.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I hope this doesn’t ruin anything. It’s just I think Declan needs to be the one who makes this decision.”
“It doesn’t at all. I’ll call the bakery and inform them of the name change. Could I have Declan’s email so I can forward him the tasting sheet to print out? It’ll have some help to make flavor comparisons as we get more bakeries on the list.”
“I’ll text it to you. Also, can we have them make a new flavor?”
