Page 18 of Misunderstood: In Love with the Nerd (Miss 2)

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Sonya couldn’t believe her bad luck. Making a dash through the apartment lobby she quickly pressed the elevator button in frantic. From behind her hood she peered around to see if anyone was there. It was empty. Thank goodness. Now if she could only get safely on the elevator without being spotted.

“Hey, Sonya!” Daniel’s voice came from the glass foyer doors as he too made an entrance into the building and straight for the elevators. “Where’s the fire? I was calling your name. Didn’t you hear me?”

She spun around; relieved it was only him. He was dressed in a formal black tuxedo and smelled of some sexy after-shave. Sonya was struck momentarily from her own self-pity to note he looked unusually good-looking that afternoon. “Oh, Daniel. I am having the worse day.”

“Why? What happened? Break a nail?” The elevator arrived and they both boarded. Daniel pressed the button for the tenth floor as Sonya reached up and pulled the hood down. He glanced at her movement only to have his eyes grow round as saucers. “Whoa. What happened to your hair?”

She looked behind them to the glass mirror on the back elevator wall. Her long curly locks were now a frizzy explosion from the crown of her head. All she wanted to do was cry. “My hair dresser wasn’t available on short notice. So I tried that new salon on Thirty-Fifth Street. Look what she did to my hair.”

“I can see.” He eyed the wiry bush. “Why did she think you wanted an afro?”

Sonya turned to him, her eyes dilated in anguish and her bottom lip slightly beginning to quiver. “What am I going to do? I can’t go on my date with Tristan like this? I can’t even go to work like this?”

Daniel stared down at her and tried to not let her quivering lip get to him. This was a good thing, he told himself. The botched hairdo would impede on her relationship with the bar gigolo. He, on the other hand, could care less what her hair looked like. She could be bald for all he cared, and she would still be perfect in his eyes. Not that she would ever appreciate it.

“Cut it off.”

“What?” Her eyes grew enormous. “Are you out of your mind? I love my hair.”

His eyes slid to the object of their discussion. He had to admit he loved it as well. Just like everything else about her. It was part of who she was. “Then cancel your date and call in sick.”

“Now you are just being ridiculous,” she snapped, her eyes shooting daggers at him before the elevator reached the tenth floor and the doors slid open. With a relieved exclamation, she pulled the hood over her mane once more, brushed past him and ran toward her apartment.

Daniel watched her go and heaved a weary sigh. Glancing down at his plaque he mentally noted she made no effort to ask him how his day went, or in the least, congratulate him on his award.

* * *

He was useless when it came to a woman’s emergency, Sonya thought with annoyance as she grabbed for her phone and dialed Maura’s number. As usual lately, there was no answer. That accountant boyfriend of hers was to blame, she was certain. He was constantly keeping her busy. Hell, if she wanted to see her friend she would soon have to make an appointment.

She pressed the cancel button with more force than was necessary then scrolled through her contacts and dialed Audrey’s number instead. The girl was sympathetic to Sonya’s dilemma and, bless her heart, was an expert on hair care. She promised to be at Sonya’s within an hour with an over-the-counter straightening solution from a nearby pharmacy.

As assured, she arrived at Sonya’s within an hour, reset the girl’s frenzy style then sat down with coffee and magazine to await the results. Sonya glanced at her friend. She took a liking to Audrey from the moment they met. There was something about her that was familiar. It was almost like she didn’t belong in a waitress job at some bar where pickup lines flowed as freely as the beer on tap. She was more of a reserved girl. A little on the shy side where men were concerned. She seemed more comfortable talking to other people about themselves rather than herself. As a matter-of-fact, Sonya realized, she really didn’t know much about Audrey’s personal life.

“How long have you been a waitress down at the bar?”

Audrey glanced up, surprised by the question. “Oh, um, about a year now.”

“What did you do before that?”

“Waitress.” Audrey confirmed what she apparently felt was the obvious then provided the name of another local bar in town. “I worked there for five years.”

Surprised, Sonya declared, “No kidding! Why so long?”

“Why not?” She frowned back at the question. “It’s a job. The tips are good.”

“It just seems like you don’t belong in the business.”

“Oh?” Sonya realized Audrey was becoming agitated with her questions. “Because I don’t flaunt myself like you?”

“I don’t flaunt myself.” Sonya was quick on the defense, though a tiny voice begged to differ. “Well, maybe a little. But I wasn’t trying to insult you. You just seem like you belong in an office or as a nurse, or a teacher . . .”

Audrey didn’t notice Sonya’s suddenly distracted gaze and deepening frown. “I’m happy where I’m at.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Audrey’s chin snapped up, her eyes growing in horror. “Who?”

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