Page 62 of Free to Run
“Should I apologize for that?” Corinna asks.
“Not to me. I only wish it was daylight so I could have seen the red and not just heard about it.” Corinna’s infectious giggle erupts on the other end of the phone. “I told him he should be grateful it wasn’t straight-up red food coloring. Not like you did to me in college.”
“True. But you got a new hairstyle out of it.”
I can’t help but agree. Silently. Back then, waking up to a third of my hair dyed red because of Corinna’s fury was not pleasant. “Can we get back to the matter at hand before I demand full restitution for not eating the birthday cake you made for Colby?”
Ignoring me, she instead asks, “Did you call just so I don’t come after him with a different color today?”
I laugh. “Partially. That, and I have no idea what to wear to the office.”
“You’re going to the office? Whoa, forget balls, it’s your tits I admire, Ali.”
I roll my eyes. “Let’s give the credit where credit is due. Keene’s practically dragging me. He wants to be there in the event someone says something nasty. That way, he can play savior.”
“I guess your theory about him being a vampire wasn’t entirely accurate?”
“No, and he didn’t appreciate it when I told him that either.”
“You did not,” she laughs. “Did you?”
“I sure did. I called him a vampire dickhead,” I say proudly.
Our mutual hilarity is warming my soul, but not my ass as I stand in my closet with no clothes on. “Cori, I promise I’ll tell you all about this later, but what the hell do I wear today?”
I hear the rustle of her sheets. “Where’s breakfast?”
I shrug before I realize she can’t see me. “I’m assuming The Coffee Shop, since he mentioned my favorite coffee.”
“Smart man,” she mutters. “He’ll hit you where you’re weakest.”
“Bite me,” I retort.
“I’ll tell Keene where to bite you instead.”
“He already knows. Oh, one thing about last night. I got him to agree to a five-date, no-sex rule.”
“Shut the hell up! You didn’t!” She’s screeching, she’s laughing so hard. “Damnit, now I have to pee.”
Thank God there’s a dressing table in the middle of my closet that I can lean against. I’m laughing to the point I might fall down, while Corinna’s losing it in my ear. I can hear the swooshing as she kicks her legs back and forth in her sheets. “I’m dying, Ali. I swear it.” Her drawl is pronounced. “You are my damn hero.”
“Back at ya. Now…” I spin around in my closet. “What. Should. I. Wear? I have—” Shit. “Thirteen minutes to be downstairs.”
“Is your magenta silk suit clean?” I love that my sister knows my clothes as well as she knows her own.
I walk right over to the suit in question. “I’m holding it right now.”
“Black pearls, black heels. Pops your coloring for your date but says don’t mess with me at the office. Shows you made an effort on both fronts,” Corinna says decisively.
I scan the suit for all of about two seconds. “Will I be safe if I come down to the kitchen wearing this today? I heard the red went everywhere.”
She yawns. “Why do you think I’m hanging up on you in about thirty seconds and going back to sleep? I was there forever cleaning it up. I’ll be in around lunch. Tell Keene or Caleb to pick up Genoa for lunch.”
Genoa is a little Italian restaurant in nearby Ridgefield. It’s also one of our favorite places to eat. When anyone is near the restaurant, they pick some up for everyone.
“I’ll mention it at breakfast. Thanks, Cori. Go back to sleep. Love you.”
“Back at ya, Ali. Knock ’em all dead.” Corinna disconnects the call.
