Page 16 of The Girlfriend Card
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
I retreated to my bedroom and shut the door.
I laid still in bed, my ears attuned to the faint sounds of Leo’s movements in the suite. I didn’t care to see him, especially after our talk. I knew he wouldn’t be sticking around here for long, anyhow.
Thirty or so minutes later, footsteps pattered down the hall. Leo approached and softly knocked, his voice muffled through the closed door. “Tavi?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna head out now, okay?”
“Okay. Do you think you’ll be back here at some point?”
“I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve got a lot going on with Dad’s campaign.”
“No biggie.”
“We should definitely hang out and catch up soon, though,” he said, his voice growing distant as he walked away. “Now that you’re back from school.”
“Sounds good. Bye.”
“Have a good night,” he called out as he left the suite.
The instant I heard the door click shut, I suddenly felt free. I popped off the bed and emerged from my room with a skip in my step.
Whew.
Alone time.
5
Craigslist Guy
Ottavia
Ablustery wind tousled my hair as I peered over the balcony railing, a glass of ruby-red wine in hand. The Strip’s marquee lights and signs danced in the dark, painting the night sky with a pulsing neon glow. From fifty stories up, the ebb and flow of traffic was a distant hum, and the bustling city below felt worlds away.
A strange, almost bittersweet feeling turned in my core. How peculiar to observe all the sights and sounds and energy of the city, yet not actually be immersed in it. I felt like an outsider. Even at home.Especiallyat home. This feeling, I now realized, wasalwayswith me. It was easier to ignore it when I was at Stanford, true—but Stanford was a temporary escape lasting only four years.Thiswas the rest of my life.
Ding.
I turned around and cast a glance at my phone, which I’d left on the table next to the outdoor lounge chair. The screen glowed with a notification.
Not going to solve any mysteries tonight,I thought as I pushed away from the balcony railing.
I laid on the lounger and scooped up my phone. The notification was for a new email—and I smiled when I saw who’d sent it.
Craigslist Guy.
His email read,“I didn’t scare you off, did I? I’d still love to speak with you. The dinner is tomorrow and I really really need to find somebody.”He’d given me his cell number again, too.
I frowned. I could feel the poor guy’s trepidation through his words. It was clear to me now that he wasn’t joking after all. But after my talk with Leo, I’d lost whatever trivial interest I might’ve had in the job. I was sick and tired of pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.
But Craigslist Guy was desperate, and the least I could do was put the poor man out of his misery. I fetched his cell phone number and tapped out a text:
“Hi there, Craigslist Guy. This is the theater major girl. I just wanted to text you to say sorry and let you know that I’m honestly not interested in the job. I only replied to your ad because I thought it was a joke or something? I’m not exactly sure what I thought. Anyway, I’m really sorry to waste your time. Good luck with your search, and I hope you find what you’re looking for!”
I tossed my phone aside, thinking that would be the end of it. But a minute or two later, my phone chimed with a new text.
