Page 47 of Snap Shot

“Stuff his gyro meat into your slobber pocket!”

My hands fly up to my cheeks, hiding my eyes, mouth, and hopefully, the fiery blush. They muffle my discontent. “I hate you both.”

Gabe slaps her knee with a silent laugh as Bea wipes the corners of her eyes and lets out a lilting sigh. “You love us.” They high-five over the table.

Sammie relieves me of their incessant innuendo, and they switch it out for a persistent interrogation about this mystery suitor. Who doesn't exist. I give no details about his name or occupation, citing I'm not ready.

Gabe huffs. “What does he look like?”

I gaze at the upper edge of the window frame. “Ummm,athletic, strong.”

“Not his body, you wiener.” Bea smacks my shoulder. “His face, his features.”

“Handsome,” I say through a bite of egg. Infuriatingly so. “Tousled brown hair. Insane eyes. Dimples.”

She slides down her chair, swooning. “He sounds dreamy. Like a Disney Prince.”

I side-eye her theatrics. “Yes, well. I don't know if I trust him.”

The light conversation blips. Gabe straightens, crossing her silverware across the plate with a gentle clank, and finishes chewing. “Really, Indi?Youstayed the night with someone youdon'ttrust? That doesn't sound like something you do.” She takes a sip. “I don't know him, but I know you. I think that youdotrust him, but you're scared. And that's valid. Though maybe it's time to test out the waters. Give him a chance, you know?”

Condensation from my coffee glass drips onto its coaster below. My lips wrinkle, pulling to one side.

“Not every guy is Kleinmann,” she adds. Gabe is the only person in my life who witnessed the whole fiasco with me in-person.

I gulp in response, still staring at the growing ring of water.

Bea curls an arm around my drooping shoulders. “And if he turns out to be…” She twirls the butter knife in her free hand from an innocent hold to something much more violent and stabs the air, a sinister grin stretching her mouth. “You know who to call.”

I shrug her off with a playful nudge, hot tears building once more. I haven't cried over men in years, and I’ve almost done it twice over Landon Radek in one morning.

Gabe waves the waitress back over. “Could we have the check, please?”

We're not quite out the door before the staff clears our table and another group takes over. Gabe gets in an Uber to get some work done in the newsroom, grumbling about one more golf tour assignment she couldn't slough off. Bea offers to drive me home, but she's already running late to drop her car off for servicing and I refuse to add to her chaos. I hop into another cab, pulling out my phone to avoid the chatty driver. A few notifications on a group chat with my sisters flash on the screen.

Anika:I truly hope you're dead in a ditch somewhere.

Me:Unfortunately not.

Anika:She lives!

Esha:You're so fucking dramatic, Nik.

Esha:Can you respond to Mom? She's about to have an aneurysm.

It wasn't going to be long before ignoring her was gonna bite me in the ass. It's only been two, no, three days, right? I check. Never mind. It's been a week. But I'm not sure I can handle another conversation with Mom pestering me about whether I've eaten and how work's going. What would I say? “Work could be better, Mom. My new client is my middle school crush—by the way, he's now an outrageously hot, rich hockey player—who I hate. He also caught me masturbating in my office while moaning his name and now is making fun of me for it. Otherwise, everything'sgreat!”

Me:I'll call her when I get to my apartment.

Anika:You're not there? Where are you?

Me:Went to brunch with Gabe and Bea.

Esha:What about last night? Mom said she called, and you didn't pick up.

Me:None of your business.

Anika:But I wanna know!

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