She peers over her shoulder and grins. “Mr. SexyPants?”
“Yeah, look, if he happens to ask, which I’m sure he won’t, but just if he does, my name’sDemi.”
Shea blinks. The crease in her foreheaddeepens.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks if you call me Demi.Okay?”
She shrugs. “Whatever Demi wants. Demigets.”
“Charlie, what the hell is wrong with you?” Steph glares at me like I just slapped hermother.
“Shh!” I shove an angry finger over my lips, my right eye twitching from the stress of it all. By the time I explain why she needs to call me Demi, he’ll be over here and she’ll have outedme.
Without thinking, I yank my foot from Shea’s grasp, sling the arm of the massage chair up, and practically throw myself out of my seat. My wet feet slip over the tile, but I manage to keep my balance by grabbing Steph’s arm. “This is an emergency!” Isay.
Confusion wrinkles her brow, and she calmly places the nail polish on the cart. My pulse accelerates. She’s taking an eternity to get out of that damn seat. I don’t look back as I tell Shea to excuse us, then speed walk to the rear of the salon. It shouldn’t surprise me when I slip, but it does. With a yelp, I reach for the rolling manicure trolley beside me, my arms flailing like the inflatable tube man at a sleazy car dealership. Utensils and polish clatter on the tile. My ass hits the floor with a whack just before the entire cart topples over. There’s no way he’s not staringnow.
Steph grabs my elbow to help me up. “What the hell is wrong with you,Char—”
I slap my hand over her mouth. “Don’t say my name,” I whisper in her ear while dragging her to the back like I’ve kidnapped her. I must look like a raginglunatic.
Quickly, I shove Steph inside the dark restroom, then kick the wedge out from the bottom of the door. It slams shut just as Elijah calls out my fakename.
“Um,” she says. “Can we turn the lightson?”
I flip the switch, and the fluorescent lights buzz to life. Both Steph’s eyebrows are raised, and her arms are crossed snugly over her chest. “He just called you Demi, didn’the?”
“God,yes.”
“Which means you told him a fake name inMexico.”
Rubbing my lips together, Inod.
Her nostrils flare while a shit-eating grin spreads over her face. I know she wants to laugh. I know it. “Why haven’t you told him your real name yet, you crazybitch?”
“Well, for starters, the entire thing is just…” I frantically wave my hands around in a panic. “A shitshow. I whore it up with some man in Mexico a week after my divorce, then run into him in the grocery store months later. I was caught off guard when he called me Demi, and then it just seemed weird to correct him, especially then. And then coffee and drinks and just…it’s not going anywhere, so there’s no reason to go through that conversation. I hate awkward discussions.” Taking a deep breath, I stare at the grimy tile. I’m barefoot in a public restroom, which means I’ll likely end up with athlete’s foot or the flesh-eating virus.Staph—
“Charlie…” Steph taps her foot. “Stop overthinkingit.”
“I’m not. I’m thinking about how I’m going to get some infection from thisfloor.”
“Dear God…” She reaches for the door. “You’ve gotissues.”
“Don’t go outthere!”
She scowls. “And what are we supposed to do, just stay in here until theyclose?”
“I mean, why the hell is he in a nail salon?” Imumble.
“Maybe he gets manicures,” she says like it’s a no-brainer.
“He’s filthy rich. Wealthy men go to swanky salons, not Shea’s Nails So Good.” Ihuff.
“Well…” She unlocks the door, and my heart starts pounding. “There’s one way to find out. Ask him,Demi.” Smirking, she flings open the door and strutsout.
I crane my neck around the doorframe and spot Elijah leaned against the counter, staring in my direction. Heat fires over my cheeks when I start through the salon. I timidly wave when I climb back into the pedicure seat. Shea takes my foot in hand and winks. “Demi. Don’tworry.”
God, leave it to me to get into such a stupidpredicament.
