Page 45 of First-Time Caller
She reaches up and adjusts her headphones. “Yeah. We’re good, Aiden.”
I let my hand drop, listen to the countdown, and we start again.
LUCIE STONE:You guys, Aiden told me he watches YouTube videos and cries.
AIDEN VALENTINE:[sighs]
LUCIE STONE:Big, fat tears.
AIDEN VALENTINE:What’s the point of a secret if you’re going to share it with the world?
LUCIE STONE:[laughter]
AIDEN VALENTINE:It’s not funny.
LUCIE STONE:Then why are you smiling?
She’s a natural. Poised and funny and sarcastic. Whip-smart and quick on her feet. We’ve been spending more and more of our time together on the phone lines, and Lucie charms every single one of our callers.
Even the weird ones.
“How tall are you?” asks our current caller, a man with a brusque voice and absolutely zero tact. I wanted to kick him off as soon as he asked her shoe size, but Maggie appeared on the other side of the window with her earbuds in, gesturing wildly to keep it going. I have no idea why, unless she wants to watch my head explode in real time.
“Um.” Lucie glances at me and I shrug. She’s the boss, as far as I’m concerned. She can play it however she wants. Though I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to her ending this call and moving on to the next. He’s treating her like she’s a fish at the aquarium. Or a fillet at the meat counter. “Five ten and a half?”
“That’s tall,” he says.
“Is it?” she asks. “I always thought I—”
“What does your face look like?” he cuts her off.
She pauses and blinks, startled. “I don’t know,” she says slowly. “It’s a face.”
I tuck my smile in the palm of my hand. Lucie is fine when she forgets she’s on a radio show orchestrated to find her a relationship, but as soon as she’s faced with a direct question about herself, she becomes stilted and awkward.
And she says I’m the one who has trouble talking about myself.
She notices my look because she turns slightly in her seat, her knee digging into my thigh. “What?” she asks. “What are you laughing about?”
I hold up my hands. “Nothing. I’m not laughing.” I pull my mic closer, thoroughly unable to contain my grin. “Don’t worry, Baltimore. Lucie does indeed have a face.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine. You tell him what my face looks like.”
“Well, you have a nose.”
She huffs.
“And two ears. Those are nice.”
“There you go,” she says to the guy on the other side of the headphones. The one I forgot existed. “I have nice ears.”
“Long hair,” I continue. I grin at her. “The better to strangle me with.” Her forehead creases in a heavy frown. “And she gets a dimple on her chin when she’s glaring at me.” I laugh.
I curl away to avoid the flick to my arm and keep the other stuff to myself. How her eyes are the prettiest green I’ve ever seen. How the freckles across her nose are a match for the ones dusted over her shoulder—the ones I keep getting a glimpse of every time the collar of her sweater slips. How her laugh is husky and warm and makes her whole body come alive. That it starts somewhere in her belly and twirls ribbons around her, making her fucking glow.
I’m noticing things I shouldn’t be noticing and I’m not as mad about it as I should be.
“None of that is really helpful,” the guy on the other end of our headphones says.
