Page 55 of Kiss My Glass
“It’s not a race,” I protest, but Danny holds up his finger for quiet. “Buenas tardes,” he begins.
Okay, so it’s a race.
Shelby and Nate retreat and leave us to it.
Two hours later, I’m about to run outside and yeet my phone into the vines, when I hear Danny say, “Si, si.SeñoraArmstrong! A message for her,si?—”
He covers his phone, and hisses, “Whatisthe message?”
“Call Shelby ASAP,” I say.
“Er,teléfonoShelby,su hija, her daughter,por favor,” says Danny. “And … er,los antes posible? As soon as she can?Si. Muchas gracias. Adiós.”
“You did it!” I say once he’s hung up. “You actually did it!”
Danny stands up and takes a bow. Then he flops back down into the chair. “Oof,” he says. “And I’m used to making a shitload of calls.”
I resist an urge to lay my head on the table and close my eyes.
“It’s only mid-morning,” I say. “Feels like it should be beer o’clock.”
He grins at me. “How about we take the day off? Do something on your list? Like vintage clothes shopping.”
I perk right up. “I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”
“Or…” Danny’s grin is now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. “We could go back to my bijou accommodation for some more ‘dance lessons’.”
We could. I did miss being with him last night. I’m also cautious about things moving too fast. Then again, I’m tired of constantly overthinking things. Sex with Danny is fun and it doesn’t mean we’re committed to each other. Why don’t you pick what youwantto do, Frankie, not what you think you ought to, otherwise known as the safest options.
Thing is, though, Danny’s already uttered the magic words that trump all others.
“We’re going vintage clothes shopping,” I say.
“That’s your choice?” Danny sounds more amused than put out.
“I don’t see this as an ‘either/or’ situation,” I elaborate. “More ‘now this and later that’.”
“How much later?”
“Depends,” I say, truthfully if annoyingly. “On what the shops have in stock.”
Danny makes a rueful face. “I’m going to spend a lot of time sitting outside changing rooms, aren’t I?”
“And in them,” I reply, with a grin and an eyebrow raise of my own. “I’ll be choosing some outfits for you, too, don’t you worry.”
“Not matching?” says Danny, dubiously.
“Hell, no,” I assure him. “That was humiliating. We looked like novelty salt and pepper shakers.”
“My car or yours?” he asks.
“Mine, of course,” I say. “If we’re going retro for the day, may as well go the whole hog.”
“Can I drive?”
“Absolutely not.” I get up and wince. Chair’s hard and my butt is soft, which is why it’s aching. “I’m going to freshen up. See you back here in ten. Don’t forget your wallet.”
“Wait—?” Danny calls after me. “Am I paying?”
