Page 79 of The Holiday Hate-Off
I’m about to do just that when I notice a text from another Hideaway number.
I can still taste you. Hope my scarf kept you warm, Lucia.
I immediately respond to him:
I’m home. Consider yourself blocked.
Then I save his number under “DO NOT ANSWER.”
The signal really is good today, or at least at this particularmoment, in this particular quadrant of the apartment, because a reply comes through straightaway.
I almost called the police, you know. Unless you live underwater, you should have been home half an hour ago.
So you actually listened and didn’t follow me? Do you want a gold star?
There’s something else I want more. A gold star wouldn’t be much of a consolation prize.
I thought you were going to block me?
It’s happening now.
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2
Okay, there’s one thing I wanted to tell you. I met Amanda Willis tonight. She’s AMAZING. And I think she’s into Portia.
I MIGHT have mentioned what you said to Eileen this morning. She already had plans in that regard, of course, and it seems like she’s working her magic.
Do you have anyone else for Eileen to set up? She gets bored when she doesn’t have a project, and I’m not quite ready for her to plan my wedding to Hudson.
He shouldn’t have left your date.
Yeah, it’s almost like he’s a firefighter, and there was a boy who called fire.
I think you’re getting your folktales mixed up. But my point is that I wouldn’t have left.
So it’s a very good thing for everyone that you’re not a firefighter.
Probably. Although I’m excellent at most things I put my mind to.
And oh so humble.
False modesty is worse than arrogance.
I think your talents lie more toward starting fires, not putting them out.
Be careful. I might take that as a compliment.
You would.
Thanks for the semipermanent mustache, by the way. I think red’s my color.
Speaking of which, what are you wearing?
I’m imagining something red and skimpy.
1. Blocked.
