Page 26 of Sweet Caroline
Miles
I was joking. It’s Sharpe. Miles Sharpe.
(Just getting into character for Saturday.)
Me
I can practically hear the raised eyebrow from here.
Miles
Nice. I tried extra hard to pop that brow.
And don’t worry, no criminal history.
Actually, full disclosure, I did shoplift a candy bar once in middle school.
Me
Really?
Miles
Yup. Coulda gotten away with it too, but I felt so guilty I couldn’t even eat it.
Slept like shit that night and confessed everything to my mom in the morning.
Me
What did she do?
Miles
Made me take it back.
Me
Nice move. She sounds like a great mom.
The easy rhythm of our back-and-forth stutters to a halt when he doesn’t respond right away. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds go by as I frown down at my phone.
Was it something I said?
Finally, he starts typing again. Then stops. Then starts again. The on-again-off-again nature of my relationship with those three little dots is getting worrisome. I exhale with relief when the text finallycomes through.
Miles
You’re driving Saturday? Assumed I’d pick you up.
The change of subject surprises me, but I decide not to read into it.
Me
Not necessary. My driver will take us into the city.
Miles
Wait. Your driver?
