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That abrupt end to a date thing I keep pulling needs to stop.

I did it again last night when Alexander was trying his best to wrestle an invitation back to my place out of me.

I wanted nothing more, but I had booked the London call two weeks ago, and I didn’t want to reschedule.

I also didn’t want Alexander listening to it from my bed.

My apartment is small. It’s too small to have a conversation in one corner without a person in the other corner hearing every word.

I’ll make it up to him tonight.

“You’re here bright and early.” Cathleen taps her fist against my open office door. “How did the call go?”

I lean against my desk, holding a mug of hot coffee in my hands. “I think it went well.”

I would be enthusiastic if I could remember more of it.

I tossed and turned until my alarm rang at two-thirty. Once I was out of bed, I splashed cold water on my face, made a pot of coffee and waited for the phone to ring.

When it did, I slid into work mode and let myself be whisked into a ninety-minute conversation.

By the time it was over, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I took a long, hot shower.

“We’re narrowing the candidate list, and someone I respect made the cut.” She circles a manicured nail in my direction.

Hope flickers inside of me. I’ve been looking online at London rental properties. I’ve brushed up on landmarks there and I’ve spent time going through my wardrobe to see what essentials I’d need to take with me.

“How’s Alexander?”

Her question catches me off guard. The mug in my hand shakes. I turn to place it on the corner of my desk. “He’s fine.”

“Things are still going well between you two?” She taps her finger under her bottom lip. “I bought two tickets to his last performance. I’m taking someone special.”

Since I didn’t receive an invitation, I assume it’s not me.

She fills in the blank with a smile. “It’s Ted. He works in marketing.”

I tilt my head, trying to remember what Ted from marketing looks like. “I hope you two will have fun.”

“You’ll be there, right?”

Twisting a strand of hair around my finger, I nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I might.

I don’t have a ticket.

I imagine it’s sold out by now, but more importantly, Alexander hasn’t mentioned it.

***

“You’re reading too much into it.” Kate scoffs. “His last performance isn’t for another two weeks. He’ll invite you. I hope he invites both of us, but that’s just this girl dreaming big.”

I toss a piece of popcorn at her. She deftly catches it in her mouth.

“Am I reading too much into the fact that it’s Friday night and we’re sitting here watching Netflix?”

“You didn’t finish that question,” she pauses to wink at me. “You’re wondering why your boyfriend didn’t drop everything to spend tonight with you.”


Tags: Deborah Bladon Just This Once Erotic