Line.
Sinker.
I’ve got this!
I pull out my phone and text Simon:Are you up?He’s the only one who will make sure Arie’s at least amicable to this idea. Only, my whole body flushes when my phone beeps and I read his response.
Simon:Is this a booty call?
Oh.
My.
Goodness!
Lady Lada does a back flip. She’s ready to take possession of my fingers and type:Oh, flipping hamburgers, yes! Here’s my address—you sexy librarian of my dreams. Oh, and while you’re at it … bring condoms. Because it’s not like I have that kind of thing.
I glance at the clock. It’s well after midnight. What was I thinking? A booty call is the only reason normal people text one another at this hour. But me? Oh, no. I couldn’t wait until the morning to shoot off that text? I was too drunk with excitement about this project that I had to dash off a late night wanna-tilt-my-tilt-a-whirl hello.
Obviously, Lady Lada has been plotting an ambush.
Simon:Hello?
Hot dog! What do I even say in response?
Simon:… that was a joke.
Kendall:Sorry! I didn’t realize how late it was. I can text you in the morning.
Simon:I’m up now.
Kendall:Sorry, I woke you.
Simon:Flambé doesn’t close till 1am. I’m always up at this hour.
Kendall:Oh.
Simon:Curse of the job.
Kendall:But you’re an accountant, not a bus boy. Do you really have to be at the restaurant every night?
Simon:Co-owner. Manager. Someone has to be on site.
Kendall:Arie cooks and co-owns. Isn’t she there?
Simon:You trust a woman with a pocket-sized blow torch to run a tight ship?
Kendall:Sounds dangerous.
Simon:We each have our strengths. She cooks. I do the math.
Kendall:And you’re also the manager? Don’t you have a staff?
Simon:I’m not here every night. But, yes, I’m here a lot. Was there something you wanted?
Kendall:I need a meeting.
Simon:So, this is a booty call?