Page 39 of Elevator Pitch

His tail wags speed up and I bend down to scratch his chin.

I return to my height as Mama inches closer to me and looks between us with an intrigued expression, clearly waiting to be introduced.

“Um, sorry. Mama, this is my neighbor, Greyson.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bailey.”

He extends a hand to her and wraps the other around his wrist, she joins him in a handshake.

“Oh please, call me Elise,” she says in a flirty tone.

I try to stifle my laughter because I have never heard her use that voice before. We board the elevator, and it's awkward for thefirst time since we’ve met because my mom is here. He doesn’t take his eyes off me for the remainder of the ride. I don’t have to look at my mom to know she’s watching suspiciously and will be grilling me about this interaction as soon as I get off this elevator.

I should start going over my answers now.

When the ding sounds and the doors open, she steps out first and I follow, saying goodbye to them both.

“See you Tuesday?” he asks hopefully.

“See you Tuesday.”

The relieved smile he wears before the doors close is enough for my mom to whisper-yell my name behind me, regaining my focus.

I whip my head around and ask, “What?”

She walks beside me bumping her shoulder into me as we start for my apartment.

“Now, who isthat?And what did he mean he didn’t think he was going to see you ‘til next week? What do you do with that man onTuesdays, Selah?”

What we actually do is harmless, but I’m going to lie anyway.

“If you must know,” I say in a hushed voice. “We play in pinochle tournaments, and they can get prettyheated.”

She stops in her tracks and makes an incredulous face.

“Bullshit.” She breaks out into a fit of laughter. When she settles down, she asks, “Are you hittin’ that?”

“No, mama.” I chuckle and keep walking.

“Shit. Well, you should be. He smells really good, too,” she adds as she follows behind me.

“Doesn’t he?” I ask, letting us into my apartment.

“I knew it. You little liar,” she whispers.

“I’ll tell you if you help me put away all this damn food.”

She quickly settles in and darts over to unload the leftovers into my fridge. I follow behind to help and I shriek a laugh at her impressive speed.

“I’m not sleeping with him. You remember the experiment Itold you about for therapy where I work from the coffee shop on Tuesdays? He’s been keeping me company, so I don’t have a panic attack when I have to do it. That’s all.”

She sighs, “Well, that was pretty underwhelming, but neighborly.” She leans in close like she’s got a secret. “That man wantsyou, and not just onTuesdays.”

“Mom, stop. He’s just a good neighbor.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’sreally good,”she teases.

Alright, now. I’ve had enough of you.”

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