Page 16 of The Frock Up
Chapter Eight
Millie
"Has he arrived yet?"
It was the weekend, a whole two days after Ash had driven me home and blown my mind by asking me out.
"No," I answered Keiko as I looked at myself in the mirror with a critical eye. "He's not meant to be here for another five minutes."
"Send me a photo. Mai and I will approve your outfit."
I snapped a selfie with me pulling a silly face and sent it to her. I heard the phone being shifted back and forth between the sisters.
As I waited for their verdict, I checked in with my body, noting the fluttering butterflies in my stomach, my increased heart rate, my slightly flushed cheeks.
Oh, Millie. You silly fool.
I knew Ash was just being nice. He was the kind of guy who surely had his pick of women—astronauts, supermodels, actresses, Nobel Peace prize winners. There was no way he would be interested in a plump, funny but solidly average woman of dubious financial status.
Well, not so dubious anymore.
Sally had sent through the contract which contained more zeroes than Keiko and I had ever seen. Our only condition was that we landed the pitch. So much replied on us getting this right. Adding in a quick fling with the boss seemed like a terrible idea.
And yet here you are, dressed to go on a hike with a man who promises burgers, and posts missed connections that reference your underwear.
I didn't know how to feel about Ash.
Keiko interrupted any further self-deprecation efforts.
"Alright, we're in agreement. You look perfect."
I huffed out a laugh. "Your approval means everything to me, you know that."
Kei ignored my sarcastic tone. "You going to kiss him?"
I hesitated. "I'm not sure that's what this kind of date is."
"Oh, please," she scoffed. "The man couldn't take his eyes off you the whole pitch meeting. Girl, you got this. Get yourself a little slice of that nerdy man before someone else does."
I bit my lip, my nipples tingling at the thought of Ash touching me.
"What if he's just being nice?" I whispered, voicing my darkest thought.
"Babe, the man did a missed connection that generated newspaper articles. He took you home and—I note—asked you on a date as soon as he got you alone. He's into you."
My little heart skipped at her affirmation.
"Okay, I—"
A knock at the door interrupted me.
"Shit, he's here."
"Go slay him with your sweetness, Millie! Love you."
"Love you too."
I hung up, taking one last look at myself in the mirror.
