Page 79 of Lovetown, USA
Project Lane is going full speed ahead.
26
Column
Captain’s Log: I RemainStuck in Lovetown
By Lane Washington
Remember David? My bingo-winning counterpart?
We went out.
On a date.
It was sponsored, of course. Tasty. Company wasn’t terrible.
But I learned something interesting about our little town here.
First things first, though. The date ended at Lover’s Bluff.
Yes, you read that right. Those little spots teenagers used to visit to make out on sitcoms in the late 1900s? They’re real. Well, in Lovetown, that is. And guys, it’s so deliberately curated to be what it is. I even saw a condom dispenser on the way out.
But I digress.
Another lovely meal was had at Lover’s Bluff, then David took me home. Not a bad evening, all told, but my biggest takeaway? Discovering Lovetown’s tax break for those who marry within three years of establishing permanent residence.
I’ll let you chew on that.
Dr. Handsome is still hanging in there. Still questionable. Still slick. The man baked me fresh-baked blueberry muffins, y’all, then he took me to Lovers on the Lawn for a screening ofThe Notebook. He’s laying it on kinda thick, right?
Speaking of thick…there’s this woman. We’ll call her Jazz. Absolutely gorgeous, and genuine to boot. To say I enjoyed her company would be an understatement. No agenda there, just friendship and fun. Good fun.
In my mind, there’s something brewing. A thought. An idea, maybe. I’m on the right track with my de facto investigation, but I think I’m also learning some things about myself in the process. As always, stay tuned.
27
Lane
I’m right in themiddle of my research when Trey calls me.
I’m not sure why I smile when I see his name, or why I pick up on the first ring when I should be ignoring it. I never let anything or anyone pull me away from a story.
But this is different.
Hate that for me.
“Hey,” I greet him, still smiling.
“Hey, baby girl. I’m picking you up tonight. Wear something comfortable.”
“Comfortable like sweats, or like casual chic?”
“Comfortable like you wouldn’t mind getting messy.”
“Messy,” I echo. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
His laugh tickles my brain. “You’ll like it. Trust me.”
