Page 9 of That Emerald Vow

Clicking the message button, I go to the text he sent me earlier today.

Damon:

Chaos siren, huh? I dig it.

He’s referring to my own username, @chaossiren, which I made during my college days. I fell in love with it, so it stuck. I smile, typing a response back.

Me:

Well, we can’t all be devilishly hayesome. So we gotta settle for some fun chaos.

Me:

P.S. love the play on your last name. Very clever.

I close the message to go scroll aimlessly for five minutes before heading back on the floor, figuring I won’t get a response back as I’m currently working an overnight shift and it’s 4 AM. I’m pleasantly surprised to see the three small dots on the screen showing that he is not only awake but responding to my message.

Damon:

Thank you! You’re up pretty late. Work?

Me:

Yeah, the wonderful graveyard shift that no one else wants. How about you? Why are you up so late?

Damon:

Insomniac. I find it hard to sleep at night

Me:

Me too . . . That’s why I prefer working this late.

Damon:

We can sleep when we’re dead, right? Lol.

Me:

Lol. Exactly. Fun is for the living.

Damon:

Speaking of fun. It wasn’t bad hanging out the other night.

Me:

I mean you weren’t a total bore either.

Damon:

I still owe you that other drink, gem.

My heart flutters at the sight of his nickname for me. Only two people call me by my full name, my mother andhim. . . Everyone else calls me Charlie or Char for short. But I’ve never been given my very own nickname suited just for me. It makes me feel special.

“Special . . . You’ll never be special, Charlotte.”

“Oh, my special, special girl you are, Charlotte.”

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