Page 37 of Smooth Talk

Sara: How very dare him!

Sara: Poppy! You better not have fallen back asleep on me. I need you! I haven’t talked to anyone in days

Me: Sorry. I’m making breakfast for me and Harp. She sends her love. Have you thought about meeting up with him anyway, since that had been your intention all along? Just because he said the wrong thing doesn’t mean you have to let him spoil your plans. And what exactly is a FOTBILF?

Sara: Father of the Bride I’d Like to Fuck. I would’ve thought that’d be obvious. You’re slipping Pop

Me: Red, green, blue and purple heart emojis. Unicorn emoji. Kissy face emoji. Popcorn emoji. Ice cream emoji

Sara: Awww. I love you too Harper June! Red heart emoji

Me: OMG. Thank God Harper was more interested in sending emojis than reading your last text… at least, I hope she was

Sara: So now I have to filter myself in text? Winky face emoji

I know it’s not easy for my friends; they usually do an amazing job around Harper and only let the occasional curse word fly. Really, it’s my fault for not paying closer attention to where I put down my phone. But when a tea towel catches fire and you don’t notice right away because your texting while cooking, you get a new set of priorities. Quick.

Sara: Anyway, I’m being a bad friend. Let’s talk about you. Met any prospective candidates for ending your dry spell yet?

Me: Possibly. Work in progress. Fingers crossed emoji

Sara: WIP got a name?

Me: Grayson

Sara: Grayson. Ooo. Sounds sexy. What’s his last name?

Me: *Please don’t freak out*

Me: Maxwell

I look down and an see incoming call from Sara Williams. She’s freaking out, which, in turn, will make me freak out. Nothing I haven’t been doing for weeks now anyway. I look in on Harper; she’s eating at the coffee table, watching her pony cartoon and blissfully unaware of anything else going on in the world. I double-check that the stove is off and the towel in the sink is no longer smoking and thoroughly doused before heading upstairs. I slide my finger to answer. Deep breath.

“How in the fuck are you dating the most eligible bachelor in all of South Carolina, maybe even the South, hell, the entire eastern seaboard, and I’m just now hearing about it? When I told you to find a candidate to relieve you of your cobwebs, I didn’t mean for you to take me so literally. Isn’t he running for governor or something?”

“I told you not to freak out. He’s running for mayor of Willow Creek. And we’ve only been out, like, a couple times, and they were both super casual.”

“Define ‘super casual.’ Like casual—you wore jeans and chucks— or like he casually slipped into your wardrobe and explored Punarnia?”

I choke on my laughter; thank God I was in my bedroom when I put her on speaker. Harp’s downstairs, but I feel like I need to close the door for this conversation. I leave it cracked a hair so I can hear her if she needs me for something. “Actually, I did wear jeans on the first one.”

“I hope they were your great-ass-jeans,” she interrupts.

“Of course, they were. But I meant casual, like Harper was there both times. They were more…” I hesitate for a moment, choosing my words carefully, “outings than dates.”

“So, you’re telling me that a charming, handsome, wealthy, sexy as fuck man wants to get to know you and your kid? Do I have that right?”

“Yep,” I let the ‘p’ pop at the end. I’m about to get a pep talk.

“You’re dating the mayor of Willow Creek! How are you not stoked? Is he not as handsome and charming as he was in that GQ article? OMG! Is he gay? Are you his beard?”

“Sara! No. First off: He’s not the mayor, yet.” I reply while she scoffs. “And second: I am no man’s beard. Grayson is very much straight. And three: I am stoked. He is handsome and charismatic and funny and intelligent and says all the right things and he’s great with Harper, but…” I hate admitting my insecurities, but she’s has been my best friend for a decade now. If I can’t tell her, who can I tell? “I don’t think he’s interested in dating me anymore.” Sara’s a scoffing machine, but before she can put her two cents in, I continue my explanation.

“He asked me out a couple times via text. I turned him down. Then he conned me into a picnic lunch with Harper. That was our first ‘date.’” I use air quotes even though I know she can’t see me. “Then he invited us to go fishing on his family’s farm.”

“Okay. Since you turned him down (and p.s., how could you?), he used your daughter to get a date with you. It shows he’s resourceful; he thinks outside of the box and obviously really wants to spend time with you. He knows your daughter is the most important thing in your life, so without Harp’s approval, he’s dead in the water. So, he invited you both to go fishing to see what the familial chemistry was like. That’s so hot.”

“Thanks for that amazing wrap-up, Sara,” I say not bothering to hide my sarcasm. “And while I couldn’t agree with you more about his reasoning for both ‘outings,’ it doesn’t change the fact that he’s only pecked me twice, once on my cheek and the other on the lips and hugged me, like a friend would do, and he hasn’t asked me out again since the fishing trip.”

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