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Instead, she asks, “Have you asked Anna to go with you?”
My lips shift to the side and I nod. “Yeah, but she’s working on a new app for a client and she’s on deadline. So …”
Tasia nods. “So, she can’t go.”
“Nope.”
“Maybe you should try Carlie. She works from home, too,” Tasia offers, clearly doing her best to help me out.
However, while I might be new at this whole panic over a guy thing, it did occur to me to ask the Dirty B’s who work flexible hours before trying to arm-wrestle Tasia into it.
“She can’t come. Something about seeing a nutritionist this afternoon at St. Mary’s,” I mutter, shaking my head. I can’t believe none of my friends can help me when I’m clearly going to implode.
“What about—”
I glance up and glare at her. “If you were going to say Vivian, I swear—”
“What about me?”
Like a ghost ready to haunt me at a moment’s notice, Vivian is suddenly behind me.
I practically scream. Incredibly ladylike of me, I know.
“I, uh—” I hedge, trying to figure out what to say and how long she’s been standing there. Did she hear the whole conversation?
Dear god, tell me she didn’t.
I’ll never hear the end of it.
If she did, she doesn’t give me any signs.
When I turn back around, Tasia gives methe look.
You know, the one that says,‘You’re out of options, Lily. Don’t be so picky.’
I heave out a sigh and turn to face Vivian. As much as I hate to admit it, beggars can’t be choosers. And right now, I’m definitely ready to grovel on my knees.
I plaster on a big smile and ground out, “I’m looking for someone to come with me to a club in Superior. Are you”—I swallow hard—“free?”
Warning bells are going off in my head, screaming,‘Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!’But it’s too late to back out now.
“Flower, I never took you as a mid-day partier,” Vivian says, laying her mock-surprise on thick.
At least,I hopeit’s mock-surprise.
Truthfully, with the way she’s staring at me, it could be genuine.
I laugh uncomfortably. “No, I have a client I need to meet at three and I just don’t want to go alone. I thought maybe you’d like to join me.”
Tasia shoots me a sideways glance, but thankfully, doesn’t say anything. Then, she turns to a small stack of books beside the cash register, flipping through them one at a time. Evidently, she’s openly eavesdropping on the rest of this conversation.
“Which club is it?” Vivian asks, drawing my attention back to her.
I clear my throat. “Um, Club Nocté?”
I don’t know why I say it like it’s a question. But when you’re as far out of the club scene as I am, it’s hard to be sure if I’m even saying it right.
God, I feel like a grandma. Maybe I should go with my Bingo stamper and walking cane. That should be enough of a buffer, right?
