Page 10 of Champagne Kisses
APark644:Thanks. You’re really saving my ass.
It’s_Personal:Technically you wouldn’t be in this mess if my scheduler hadn’t malfunctioned.
APark644:Well, still. Thanks.
It’s_Personal:You’re welcome. I’ll keep you updated. Have a good night!
APark644:Good night, Maya.
I sit up and let out a sigh. That wasn’t nearly as flirty as the last time we talked, but I still find myself wondering about this Maya woman.What does she look like? Where in New York does she live?I'm pretty sure she'd think I'm a creep if I just came right out and asked those things in the middle of buying champagne flutes. Maybe I’m just starved for good conversation; that’s hardly on the menu in my late night encounters, unless moans and cuss words count.
She could be a crazy cat lady, but, for whatever reason, I enjoy talking with Maya, even teasing her. Next time, I’ll get her to flirt back.
Chapter four
Maya
“You’re still coming down for the party in two weeks, right?” I do my best to keep my eyes from rolling. How could I possibly forget? It’s only thethird timeshe’s asked about it since she called.
“Yes, Mom,” I say, with all the attitude of an angsty teen. Mom sucks her teeth.
“Don’t you ‘Yes, Mom’ me, Maya. Your schedule has been so unpredictable ever since you left Sharp, Smith & Haley.” I scream internally, but don’t take the bait. I’m actually surprised she made it a whole twenty minutes before criticizing my life choices.
“…OK, OK. I’ll drop it,” she says, resigned. “I believe in your art, Maya. That’s why we paid for Pratt. But I’ll never understand why you had to leave Sharp, Smith & Haley to do it. Why be a starving artist?”
“A starving artist wouldn’t have hips like mine,” I say, with as much sass as I can get away with. “And like I’ve said before,” I begin in a gentler tone, “working both jobs wasn’t working. I kept short-changing my art and I was just miserable.”
“Fine, fine. I said I’d drop it.”
“And yet we had the conversation anyway,” I say, withway moresass than I can get away with.
“Maya,” Mom warns. I get up to pace off my frustration. My mom and I have always had a great relationship, talking almost daily, but leaving a cushy job in finance to start my own business definitely put a strain on things.
“How is the planning going for the big 4-0? Have you found the perfect dress?”
I can practically hear her grin. Gotcha! When it comes to Evelyn Davis, asking about clothes is fool proof way to change the subject. Meanwhile, I always preferred to either make or thrift my clothes.
I listen to her chatter as I straighten up my bedroom. I’ve got to stop stockpiling water glasses in here!
When she starts describing thethirddress she bought “just so I can have options”, I put the phone on speaker and settle back into my embroidery. I barely need to be here once she gets going.
A pop-up appears on my phone’s lock screen.
You have one unread message from APark644!
Huh. I don’t have a new update for him. I wonder why he’s reaching out. Without thinking, I grab my laptop and navigate to my inbox.
Hey Maya,
Can you please text me at (347) 555-0932 instead of messaging me here? I’m paranoid I’m going to miss an update from you, and I figure you’ll need my number anyway for when you drop the flutes off.
This guy has been weird from the start. First, it seems like he’s flirting with me. Now he wants me to text him? I guess Iwillneed his phone number for delivery, but—
“Maya? Did I lose you?” Shit! I forgot my mom was still on the line.
“No, no. I’m here, Mom. Sorry. I just got an email about an order. Can I call you back?”
“OK, honey.” Her disappointment is palpable.
