Page 284 of Our Way
I smile like a school girl as I type in my reply.
Yes, please.
xoxo
I wait for his reply. I imagine him on his couch, pondering his reply.
What’s your address?
I jig on the couch and type in my address, and then another message bounces in.
About 8:30 p.m.?
I jump from the couch in excitement.
Sounds great.
xoxo
I glance at my watch. Oh shit, that’s only an hour away. I need to shower and wash my hair. I glance down at my legs. I need laser. This won’t do. I need to be irresistible and downright fucking hot.
I make my way to the bathroom and get my razor out. Hmm, it’s not in my makeup bag. I tear through the bathroom cabinet. None.
“Shit. Where are all my fucking razors?” I haven’t seen any since the move. Did I throw them all out?
Surely not?
I march into my bedroom and begin to look through my toiletries like a mad woman. You don’t send someone an eggplant and then turn up hairy.
I can’t believe I sent someone an eggplant. I giggle at the prospect. What the hell? I’ve hit a new low.
I keep looking for a razor on a mission. “Fuck it.”
I go back into the bathroom and tear the cupboard apart and then sit on the floor in a dilemma.
I have two options: run to the store two blocks away and grab a razor, or turn up looking like a gorilla.
“Store.” I grab my keys and run out the door in a rush.
An hour later, I pour myself a wine. The last hour has felt like running a marathon. I felt like I was in the Amazing Race or something. The closest store was out of razors, so I ran to the one six blocks away, got caught in the rain, my shoe got caught in a drain, and I fell over and bruised my knees. I ran all the way home and shaved my legs and all my bits, then I discovered that I’m out of hair conditioner after I’ve already washed it. So now I look like a fuzzy bear… but at least my body is as smooth as a baby’s bottom.
Just how he likes it.
I sip my wine. He had better appreciate all of this preparation.
There’s knock on the door and I hunch my shoulders up in excitement.
He’s here.
I tighten the cord on my silk robe I’m naked underneath it, aiming to be a sex kitten. I open the door in a rush.
My face falls when I see a man standing there. “Delivery for Eliza Bennet.”
“Oh.” I frown. “It’s very late.”
The delivery man widens his eyes. “And urgent, apparently.”
It’s a big box, hmm. “Okay.”
