Page 16 of Perfect Praise

Hottie Icicle? Why am I smiling?

Hottie Icicle

Dinner and drinks tonight with one of my sponsors. Pick you up at seven.

Me

Who is this?

Hottie Icicle

You know multiple oxymorons?

Me

I want to make a pun, but I clearly don’t know you well enough to jokingly call you a moron. Who knew you had a sense of humor?

Hottie Icicle

I already informed you that you don’t know me.

Me

What if I have plans?

Hottie Icicle

Do you have plans?

Me

No.

Hottie Icicle

See you at seven in the lobby.

I don’t even bother asking how he knows what hotel I’m staying at.

This is not adate, but it feels a little bit like a date.

For some reason, my nerves are going kind of haywire, and my heart keeps expanding involuntarily. I think it’s in response to the fact that I will be spending time withLockeHughesof all people, the man who hates everyone.

“It’s not a date,” I repeat for the twentieth time while I’m currently obsessing about the way I look and trying to convince more than just my sister.

Camille leans in closer to her camera and giggles behind her palm. “Do you have a golf fetish?”

“No more golfers,” I insist, backing up and twirling to show her my butt and back. I shimmer from shoulders to knees. “What about this one?”

“Too fancy,” she says. “Next.”

I groan and unzip.

“All golfers can’t be the same,” she continues. “You could also just have some fun. Locke is obviously not the relationship type.”

“They might be all the same, and all of them are probably selfish. They don’t even play a team sport,” I point out. “I want someone who focuses on me, not their handicap or what number they’re ranked. I want an all-consuming love, you know.”

Camille scrunches her nose. “Handicap? Look who’s using golf terms now.”

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