Page 27 of Not My Finest Hour

“Have you met anyone?” Mom asks.

“I meet lots of people every day,” I say sarcastically.

Mom doesn’t hide her eye roll. “I meant romantically. Have you met anyone or been on any dates recently?”

Dad chuckles. “Don’t beat around the bush at all…”

Finally, it’s me who has some positive news to report. “Why, yes, I have. I’ve gone out with a couple of guys now.”

“So no more thinking about Alain?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No more Alain.”

Mom smiles, like she’s proud of this new development. “And how did it go with the guys?”

“One I thought was promising, but he didn’t pan out. The other I’m supposed to go out with again this weekend.”

My mother cocks her head to the side. “Again? You mean you’re going out on a second date with the same guy?”

“Yeah, imagine that,” I say.

“Things are getting pretty serious then,” she says with a grin.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’m taking it one date at a time.”

ChapterEleven

“Iwon’t be home until really late tonight, so you should probably take a key with you,” Fern says. “I may even spend the night at Brett’s.”

I stop applying my foundation and focus my attention on her. “Where is it you’re going again?”

“Brett is taking me to a concert at The Paramount.”

“Who’s playing?” She rattles off the name of some band I’ve never heard of, and now I’m getting suspicious. I know Fern fairly well, and I’ve never heard her mention this band once. “What time does it start?”

“Doors open at six-thirty, and the concert starts at seven-thirty. We’re planning on going around seven.”

“Is Brett meeting you there or picking you up here?”

Fern narrows her eyes. “You’re asking a lot of questions. What’s the deal?”

A beat passes before I answer. “I just want to make sure you’re not eloping tonight.” I’ve been on high alert ever since she mentioned wanting to elope. I feel like any day now, they could decide that today’s the day. Not that it’s any of my business, but I’d at least like to know when they decide so I can plan a little something for after it happens.

Fern’s icy gaze softens. “You don’t have to worry. We’re not eloping tonight. I promise it’s just a concert.”

I give her a good once-over. With her skintight jeans and T-shirt, she very well could be telling the truth. Unless she plans on changing as soon as I leave. But I don’t really have time to worry about her intentions right now. I spent too long in the shower, and the subsequent hair drying has left me with only twenty minutes to apply my makeup and fix my hair.

“What time is Wesley coming to pick you up?” Fern asks.

“He’s supposed to be here in twenty minutes.”

Her brows shoot up. “That doesn’t give you much time at all. Do you already have your outfit picked out?”

“Sort of. I have a general idea, but don’t have it nailed down quite yet.” I feel really stupid I didn’t have things planned out ahead of time. I thought I’d have plenty of time to get ready, but Fern and I were binge watching a British crime drama this afternoon and I lost track of time. A shame because I never did figure out who “H” was.

“Let me help. What was your plan?”

I leave the bathroom momentarily and pull out a pair of black straight-legged dress pants and an adorable blush-pink sweater. “I was going to wear this outfit with these shoes,” I say, grabbing a pair of kitten-heeled black dress shoes from my closet. “What do you think?”

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