Page 148 of Midnights
It's Mike Wazowski.
He’s at the counter, laughing with an older man, and his posture is completely relaxed. He looks nothing like the polished formal businessman I met the other day.
I lean over and nudge Rachel, keeping my voice low. “That’s Mike. The guy from work. The one in the white shirt.”
Rachel looks up and completely goes still. Her eyes narrow slightly as she leans toward me. “Wait,that’shim?”
“Yup,” I tilt my head. “Not bad-looking, right?”
She raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Oh, for sure.” A pause. “So do we like him? Or…?”
“Eh.” I drag the sound out. “He’s definitely attractive, but he came off… very formal. So I'm not sure if he's my type, but maybe that’s just the job. I guess emails and suits aren’t exactly thrilling.”
I look over toward the counter again. He doesn’t look like emails and suits today.
“Although…” I continue, tilting my head. “He was kinda sweet. And he did offer to show me around.”
Rachel is watching me like a hawk. “So… he’s totally flirting with you. Is that even appropriate? Remember no men.”
“Was. Past tense.” I correct quickly.
The look she gives me says she doesn’t believe me for a second.
The second Mike spots me, he smiles and heads straight over, stopping at the table with that charming grin he pulls out like a party trick. Confidence looks effortless on him, which is…annoyingly effective.
“Well, well… fancy meeting you here,” he says smoothly. Then, his attention shifts entirely to Rachel. “Who’s your lovely friend?”
“Rachel.” She studies him for a beat too long, her expression is unreadable, but calculated. It's the kind of look that makes men lean in without realizing they're doing it. “I'dlike to know more about you.”
Mike chuckles, clearly intrigued, but whatever curiosity he spares Rachel dies fast—his attention returns to me like it never left. “I’m just a work friend.”
Rachellets out the faintest hum, like she's filing the moment away for us to talk about later.
“What brings you two out this way?” He smiles, looking between us. “A bit of sightseeing?”
“Pretty much.” I shrug.
“We needed breakfast before our big plans tonight.” I pause, curiosity tugging at me. “Do you live around here?”
“Oh no.” He waves a hand casually. “Just in the area checking on a friend.”
He straightens slightly, adjusting his watch. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel.”
Then, he turns back to me. “Good seeing you again, Miss Taylor. Enjoy your breakfast… and your ball.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
Rachel and I exchange a look and then the laughter starts.
“He’s kinda fun, don’t you think?
She smiles, giving me a pointed stare. “Too bad you're on a no men kick.”
The bathroom is a war zone of curling irons, mascara wands, and colorful chaos. Rachel and I share the vanity as we attempt to work our magic. The air crackles with energy while our ridiculous commentary bounces off the walls, making it impossible to focus.
Rachel’s half-done curls keep hitting me in the face while I carefully apply my lipstick. I pause mid-stroke, dodging another close call before snapping, “Oh my God, Rachel, if you whack me with your hair one more time, you’re going to for sure get lipstick on it.”
She snorts, completely unbothered. “Relax, you’re about to look like a goddess, you’ll survive.”
