Page 7 of To Tell the Truth
So she would just wait until she got back to Chicago and maybe send him a text next week or something.
But she was only going to be in town today so she should touch base now and get it out of the way. Right?
Samantha picked up her phone from the night stand, pulled up the text app, and stared at it. She had to give herself credit for getting this far, but she didn't think past this.
She was debating between calling instead or maybe sending a long note. "This is where I am now in my life!" and then leaving the phone behind for the beach. But instead, she decided something quick and easy would be fine. He just wanted to get in touch, that was all. Maybe a little reminiscing on a phone call one night and that would be it.
OK, short and sweet. Send something and get her swimsuit on and go.
Hi, it's Samantha. Got your message but I'm leaving tomorrow so you probably don't have time to catch up. But here's my number!
Then she pressed send.
Oh crap.
Was there some way to get that back? It sounded flippant and that's not what she was going for. She hated texting too because once it was out there, it was out there. And that text was in Fletcher's phone now.
"Grrr!"
Yeah, she was growling out loud in her hotel room.
Samantha took a deep breath. She was making too much of a big deal about nothing. It was just a text.
Swimsuit, beach. Warm water instead of the freezing cold Lake Michigan in Chicago.
She was walking over to her suitcase when her phone rang and she rushed back to instinctively answered it.
"Hello?"
"Well, hi, it's Samantha. This is Fletcher."
Oh crap again.
"Hey, Fletcher."
"So I saw your text and thought I would call you instead and catch you before you headed out for the beach and then Chicago and I never got to see you."
"It's OK," she tried to say reassuringly. "I'm sure you're busy with L.A. stuff and--"
"I'm not busy with L.A. stuff."
"Oh."
She really should have thought much more of this conversation through before she actually started it. This was a conversation she should've had in her head this morning when she went down to get the cheap eggs and crappy coffee for breakfast at the hotel.
"So, um, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today. It's a gorgeous day in Los Angeles like always and I thought we could do something together. You know, catch up."
Samantha stared out the window at the building right next to her hotel. It was a weird yellowish color.
Dammit, why was she trying to analyze wall colors to avoid talking to Fletcher or thinking about Fletcher or anything else that had to do with Fletcher.
"Uh, well, I was going to go to the beach."
"Is your hotel near the beach?"
"Santa Monica."
She could hear a little chuckle across the line and wondered what he looked like right now and if he had that smirk on his face that he had every time he got a math problem right and she complimented him.
