Page 15 of One Week
I know. I know. But somehow, I don’t think Eli is a weirdo.
“He’s probably catfishing you,” she adds. “He’s pretending to be someone else. That can’t be him. He’s too hot.”
“What?!” I hadn’t considered that possibility. Could he be catfishing me? He probably doesn’t even own a Vespa? He probably doesn’t even live in Copenhagen. His name’s probably not even Eli. It’s probably Fred, or Burt, or Harry or something… something less sexy. It’s all a sham!!!
“Oh my god, I’ve been catfished.”
Kayla laughs. “Look at you two, jumping to conclusions again,” she says. “Maybe he’s the real deal.”
I study the photo. I can’t see his eyes behind the shades or the hair hidden under his helmet, but he has a gorgeous smile, and one of those chiseled, angular faces. He seems tall but it’s hard to tell because he’s sitting. And that Vespa is gorgeous. It’s a nice picture, almost too nice — maybe Corrie is right, maybe he is catfishing me.
“Nice bike,” Corrie says. “What is that?! A scooter?”
“Yeah, it’s a scooter,” Kayla chimes in, “but the guy is hot enough to get away with it.”
“How long have you known this guy?” Corrie asks. “You’ve been holding out on us.”
“Well… about—”
Maeve and Trudy finally make their appearance. They’re both smiling from ear to ear. Oh yes… I’d almost forgotten… this day is about Maeve. I tuck my phone in my purse. “Beautiful,” I say. She really is.
“Gorgeous,” Corrie agrees.
“I love the skirt,” Kayla adds.
She really does look like a princess. The dress is embroidered with tiny flowers, they seem to dance as she twirls for us. The white of the dress is striking against her dark skin. The bustier sleeveless top fits her perfectly because she’s small busted. I look over at the girls and down at my own bust. I see why Maeve chose these dresses — they go perfectly with hers. I tug at my top again.
Sigh.
Chapter Seven
I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING WRONG. Absolutely nothing. But yet… I feel guilty. Just a little. This changes everything. It was all good when I couldn’t picture him, when I told myself that he was probably not attractive at all. But now… wow.
I’m completely distracted as I make dinner. Tonight’s meal is simple; macaroni and cheese and turkey sandwiches. I overcook the pasta, and forget to use the bread Emma likes.
I serve the kids their dinners. Theo is all smiles — he’ll eat anything, always hungry. Emma frowns. “You used the brown bread with the seeds in it.”
“Oh crap,” I blurt. “I… I mean, oh darn. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“Can I just eat the cheese and meat?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Whatever.” I really don’t care at the moment. I take John’s dinner to his office. He’s eating at his desk again. I’m careful not to spill anything as I set the tray down gently on his desk.
“Thank you, sweetie,” he says with a smile. “You’re an angel.”
I shoot him a tight grin, and grab my phone from my purse. I need to get to the bottom of this picture, or it will bother me all night. I look at the time. It’s 5:30 PM. It’s 11:30 PM his time. He might be asleep already, and probably won’t get back to me.
It’s gorgeous. I love the color. Nice picture. Who took it?
I’m digging a little… I want to know more. I’m getting my Nancy Drew on.
I set the phone down on the kitchen counter, and I start on my own sandwich, although I can’t imagine eating it — the girls and I had a pretty big lunch at our favorite spot.
I hear a ding. I drop my knife, and grab my phone.
It’s him.
Thanks. Yeah, I like that picture too. My ex-girlfriend took it. It was taken not far from my loft.
