Page 6 of Caught Stealing

I slant my eyes at her, trying to appear mean and jaded but it only makes her laugh.

“Here, just take the business card and think about it. I won’t bug you over it, but I want you to know it’s an option that will have great results.” She shoves a card in my hand, which means she has prepared for this. I have her bag, so she’s had that card burning a hole in her palm since she knocked on my doorframe. To appease her, I take it. “Just, um…don’t tell anyone about it, okay?”

“I won’t, and I’ll think about it.” I stuff the plain black card into my tote bag, probably never to be seen again.

This pleases her enough that she switches topics back to her new fiancé and the details of the engagement. She’s already picked out a dress and a venue, so I encourage her and smile as much as possible. All the while, I wonder if there is even a sliver of possibility that it was the app that did all of the hard work, or just good, old fashioned luck.

An hour and one terrified jog away from the dungeon later, and I’m finally home ready to get into my pajamas and snuggle with Ginger, my two year old boxer. Her nubber wiggles always make me smile, and she greets me at the door with all of the loyalty only a dog can muster. I ignore the hockey stick leaning in the corner that Rory still hasn’t picked up. It’s almost like he wants to rub it in a little longer, make the sting last so he can swoop in and break me all over again when he retrieves the last of his things.

We were so close to forever, too. One down payment on a house and ring shopping. That’s as far as we got before the news of his betrayal smacked me in my unsuspecting, naïve face.

Ginger presses her nose to my knee and snorts.

“Hi, Ginger bear,” I croon, scratching under her drooly fat chin. She wiggles so hard she folds herself in half and whines. “Okay, let’s go potty then we’ll snuggle, okay?” I slide open the glass patio door and let her dart into the backyard. This gives me time to change before we settle on the sofa and order Chinese food. It’s Friday, and this is the regular routine.

In my bedroom, the full length mirror reflects the late afternoon sunlight, casting a warm glow over my pale pink bedspread. The calming, welcoming colors beckon me to curl up and take a nap, but it’s too early to consider going to bed. The cozy linen sheets will have to wait. In the meantime, I can lounge in my jammies.

I let Ginger back in and feed her. She barely makes it around the sofa without wiping out, then growls while she eats. It’s been her habit since I got her at four months old, despite copious proof that I would never steal her food. Scrolling through the streaming apps, I stop on the romcom movie channel. I adore the idea of love but I tried it a few times, got my heart stomped, and gave up. I’m only thirty, but all of my friends were married and pregnant by twenty-five. It seems I will be the eternal bachelorette of the group, but at least this way I don’t end up crying into a bag of chips and salsa, wishing I had paid more attention to the signs.

Oh, chips and salsa. Maybe Chinese food can wait. I’m about to head to the kitchen to raid the pantry instead when my phone lights up and one of my best friend’s, Josie’s name pops up. I slide the screen to answer, prepared for the absolute worst. She’s going to try to make me leave the house, and I don’t want to.

“Hello?”

“Lottie! Get out of your jammies, fix your face and hair, and meet us at—”

“How do you know I’m in my jammies?” I ask, glancing down at them.

“You’re always in them. That doesn’t matter. I got us into Uptown Bistro, that amazing little restaurant in the historic district.”

And there it is, the absolute worst. Josie has been calling every day to catch a cancellation at the popular bistro, but I held out hope she would never get one. My luck has run out. “Josie—”

“No. You don’t get to punk out on me. You promised if I got us in, you’d come, Lottie. Come on, join us.” Josie’s excitement does not cross over the phone and infuse me with the same level of joy, but she’s my best friend. I can’t tell her no. Besides, it’s time to stop nursing the wounds my ex inflicted and get back to the sweet and sunny girl everyone adores. If I’m honest, I miss being the one that made everyone smile and feel good about themselves.

“Okay, okay. Gimme fifteen minutes to spruce up and I’ll meet you there.”

“Perfect. Love you, Lots.”

If she loved me, she would let me stay in my huddle hole. I kick off the blanket and scold myself because Josie dragging me out on a Friday night for a dinner with the girls is just what I need to get back to being me. She knows it. And…I do want to get back to being myself.

I look over at Ginger whose precious brown eyes knowingly look back at me. She wiggles out from under the blanket pile and grabs a toy from her basket, happy to chew the night away without me.

It takes me the entire fifteen minutes to find something suitable to wear to such a high-end bistro, then another ten to fix my makeup and hair, but once I arrive and park, I find the ladies standing outside in a line. Josie’s arms are crossed, and Carmen and Amelia wear scowls that could scare the pants off of anyone.

“What’s wrong?” I ask and slow my approach in case Amelia decides to tell me with her hands. I once took a finger to the eye when she was ranting about her nephew smearing red paint on her new car.

“Well, we have to make different plans,” Josie says. Her cheeks are bright red even in the dim light from the street lamps.

“I thought you got us in on a cancellation?” I ask, forcing a smile when the girls all give me annoyed side eye. They’re annoyed? I wore heels.

“It’s for next year,” Amelia says, shifting her glare to Josie.

“They did not tell me that over the phone,” Josie says. “We tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Since we’re all out, we might as well go somewhere.”

“Pizza. We’re getting pizza, because my tongue was ready for high end treatment, and anything less than that will only anger me,” Carmen says.

“Pizza is less than that,” Josie says but backs away when Carmen gives her a warning glance.

“I mean, trying another restaurant will be a disappointment. We know pizza. Pizza is our friend,” Carmen says.

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