Page 70 of Crash and Burn
"The dinner with Janice," she promptly replied. "She's the one in the admissions office at the college that I told you about."
I should have known that playing dumb wasn't going to work.
I went to the sofa and flopped down on it with a thump.
"I'm not sure dinner is a good idea," I said. "I'm not into the whole paralegal thing, you know that. I'd feel bad if she came all that way for nothing."
My mother sighed audibly.
"I just wish you would think about it," she said. "Or at least think about what you're going to do with your future."
The dread eased and a little flutter of excitement filled my belly as I realized I had something that might appease her.
"I have something exciting to tell you," I said.
She made an inquisitive noise but didn't say anything.
"You know how I started sewing my own clothes?" I didn't wait for my mother to interject. "I've been approached by a fashion designer who wants to work with me."
My mother was silent.
"He's really famous in the fashion world," I hurried to continue. "Have you heard of Farrow and Paige?"
"A fashion designer?" my mother asked skeptically. I could almost hear the disbelief in her voice. "Are you sure? How do you know he's not just some fraud with a business card?"
"This guy is the real deal," I insisted. "He likes my designs. He wants to collaborate on a project."
"And where exactly did this so-called fashion designer come from?" my mom asked. "How did he even meet you in the first place?"
"I was at a photoshoot with Grant. You remember that he's a photographer?"
"And what does Grant think about this?" my mom asked.
I cast a glance at Grant who was pretending to play on his phone to give me privacy but I knew he was keeping one ear tuned into the conversation.
"Grant thinks it's a good opportunity," I said.
Grant stopped pretending he wasn’t listening and came over to sit next to me on the sofa. He placed a hand on my knee.
My mother hummed, not quite disapproving but more of a resigned noise.
"Well, I just hope this whole thing doesn't turn out to be some scam," she said.
A pang of disappointment hit my chest.
"I've got to get to work," I lied.
Grant put an arm around my waist and rested his chin on the top of my head.
“I'll talk to you later," I told my mother.
"Just think about that dinner with Janice," my mother said one last time before I hung up.
I hadn't realized I'd been scowling into the black screen of my phone until Grant's hand cupped my cheek and his thumb brushed over my frowning lips.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I let out a breath through my nose.
