Page 43 of Escaping Our Reality

And of course, it’s just my luck, I had to use a sexual innuendo.

She giggles. Lowering her voice an octave, she says, “Well, we need to make this first visit extra special so you’ll have a reason to come back and tryotherthings on the menu.”

Of course, Lulu walks up right when the girl is saying this. In no time flat, Lulu’s eyes roll back in her head. Each time this happens, her eye roll gets more dramatic. One day her head might actually fall off.

“Did you pick something out?” I ask her.

Swallowing her pride, she politely looks at the cashier. “We’d like the chocolate cake on the second shelf, please. The chocolate and vanilla cake with chocolate frosting.”

I add to the order. “And we’ll take two orders of the soup and sandwich combo. Both with tomato soup and a chicken salad sandwich.”

She looks into my eyes. “For here?”

I nod and she quickly gives us the total. I reach into my back pocket to grab my wallet as Lulu starts to dig through her purse. “Here, let me get this. It was my idea to get a cake for Harlan.”

I firmly put my hands on hers, stopping her movement. “Lulu.” My warning gives no room for debate. Sure, the total made my heart stop for a second, but I’ve still got some nuts attached to my body. No way I’m letting her pay for this.

Taking the cake box with us, we head over to a two-person table. I fix us each a drink while she grabs the napkins and utensils. Sitting down, Lulu opens her mouth to start a conversation, when we are suddenly interrupted by a loud, nasally voice.

“Ella, darling. It’s been so long since I’ve seen that gorgeous face of yours. I nearly forgot what it looked like.”

Lulu immediately stands, stiffening her back, squaring her shoulders. Trying to be the gentleman, I stand as well.

“Mrs. Plott. It’s nice to see you too. Pleasant weather, isn’t it? Hard to believe tomorrow will be thirty degrees cooler.”

Weather. Why do rich people wanna talk about weather?

“Yes, I know. What can you do? The woes of living in the South.”

Lulu softly chuckles.

The lady’s gaze travels over to me. A total cougar, her eyes dilate in appreciation. Fondling the pearls on her neck, she looks back at Lulu. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Of course, how rude of me. Mrs. Plott, this is Ryland Crutchfield.” Lulu stares into my eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turns back to the woman. “Ryland is my boyfriend.”

Her what?

The woman’s mouth gapes open in shock.

“Ryland, this is Mrs. Noreen Plott. Her son, Hudson, and I are classmates.”

“Oh dear, you’re more than that. You two have been friends since you were in preschool.” She reaches across the table, and I shake her hand.

She’s one of those women who doesn’t really shake your hand, though. She simply holds her hand on top of mine, like she’s the queen waiting for me to kiss her knuckles.

“Hudson didn’t mention you had a boyfriend. Neither has your mother. I just left her at the country club.”

Lulu nods. “Yes, ma’am. You know me. Quiet as a mouse about some things.”

Ella may be. But My Lulu is louder than a tomcat in heat.

And growing louder every day. Finding more of her voice. Becoming more of who she really is.

The rich girl people say is a bitch is really just a feisty, spunky woman trying to break free of the cage she’s been trapped in.

“Well, I’d better head out. I just came in to buy some of those gluten-free, high-protein muffins that Hudson likes so much. I’m sure you’ve noticed how much he has been working out lately.”

“I suppose so.” She leaves it at that as they say goodbye, and she walks away, leaving a trail of overwhelming perfume burning the insides of my nostrils. We both sit back down, and I lean back in my chair, spreading my legs wide in front of me. Lulu takes a large gulp of her drink.

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