Afternoon Delight
The man sitting on the other side of the desk has square frame glasses and long brown hair parted in the middle, exposing a thinning scalp. It’s not a flattering hairstyle for him. Or for anyone, really. He also hasn’t made eye contact with me since I walked in the door. No wonder Tina was so adamant that Clayton wasn’t my type. If he were an actor, he’d be perfect for playing a creepy serial-killer-type dude.
His gaze seems to be focused on my hands while I describe my new business to him. He says that he can help me get the whole thing set up and do my taxes and bookkeeping so that I don’t have to worry about anything other than planning events.
As we go back and forth, each of us asking questions and giving answers, I tuck my hands under my arms to see if he’ll finally meet my eyes. Instead, he looks down at his own hands. I take my hands back out and his gaze returns to them. I fight the urge to tuck them away again just so I can see how many times I can get him to look back and forth between my hands and his own.
I look down at my hands, wondering what could possibly be so interesting. Maybe it’s the ghosts on my fingernails. He must think my hands are haunted.
When the meeting is over, I head over to Tina’s. I hold my breath when I spot Oliver’s truck parked behind Tina and Ryan’s cars in their driveway. I groan. I didn’t know he would be here, but I guess it’s just as well. I haven’t heard anything from him about what Ryan is planning. This might be a good chance to find out.
I park my car on the street and head to the front door. I let myself inside. I follow the sound of voices to the living room. Oliver and Ryan stop talking when they see me. Tina isn’t with them. I glance at Oliver for only a second before I look at Ryan. I can feel Oliver’s gaze on me like it’s something tangible.
“Upstairs,” Ryan says with a nod before I can ask where Tina is.
I smile. “Thanks!”
I head upstairs where I know I’ll find Tina working out in her home gym. She’s on the treadmill when I get there. She’s facing the other way, so she doesn’t see me come in, and she’s wearing headphones, so she can’t hear me either.
“Tina!” I call out. She continues running, unfazed. I cup my hands around my mouth and call her name louder, but she can’t hear me.
Her other home gym equipment is situated on either side of the treadmill, making it impossible for me to come up next to her so she can see me. I step up right behind the treadmill and call her name a third time, but still nothing. I reach out to tap her, but since the treadmill is elevated, all I can reach is the back of her leg as it kicks back while she runs. She reaches down and scratches her leg, probably thinking that my finger is a bug.
I climb onto the back of the treadmill, intending to scale the side of it until I’m next to her, but I trip and lurch forward. I catch myself by grabbing onto Tina, but since she doesn’t know I’m behind her, she screams and flails. Her leg comes back and kicks me in the shin, and as she tries to turn around to see what’s going on, she throws herself off balance. I reach for her shirt in a desperate attempt to stay upright, but it’s no use because Tina is already falling, and we both get launched off the treadmill. We both scream as we crash to the floor.
I look at each of my legs and arms to make sure they’re not mangled, and then I feel my ribs for any broken bones. Tina does the same. Once we’re sure that neither of us is seriously injured, we both burst into laughter.
I wipe tears from my eyes, trying and failing to contain my laugh.
Tina is on her side, literally rolling on the floor laughing. She is the epitome of the ROFL acronym.
“I think I just peed my pants,” she declares. Tears are streaming down her face as well.
After we’ve calmed down a bit, she manages to hoist herself up and lean against the wall next to me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she scolds me.
“I called your name so many times, but you didn’t hear me,” I tell her.
“So your next best option was to jump on my back?”
We both snort again, fighting another laughing fit. “I tripped, okay? I was only going to come up next to you.”
“Remind me to not let you dance in my flash mob,” she says. “You’ll knock everyone down like dominoes.”
I smirk. “Oh, believe me. No one wants to see me dancing.”
I think about what Oliver said the other day about my dance moves when he picked me up. My smile fades a little.
“How was your date with Clayton?” Tina asks.
I roll my eyes. She’s been referring to it as a date ever since I asked her if she was trying to set me up with him. Now I know why she thought the idea was so funny.
I hold my hand out in front of us. “I think he was terrified of my ghost nails.”
“But they’re so cute.” She holds her hand up next to mine, comparing our manicures.
“Who’s Clayton?”
