Page 51 of Floored (Frenched 3)
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“I’m fine, thanks. And how have you been?”
“Sorry. How are you?”
“Great.” God, I loved the sound of his voice. When had that happened? It wasn’t even that voice.
“Good, me too. Now what size shoe?”
I sighed in exasperation. “Seven. Why?”
“I’m buying you a Christmas present.”
“You’re buying me shoes?” Immediately I pictured sky-high platform stilettos in red patent leather.
He laughed, and the sound warmed me all over. “Not exactly. Are you busy Saturday?”
“I have to be at the studio until one.”
“After that, then. I’ll pick you up.”
What was this? A date? “OK. What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise. Dress warmly.”
Suddenly it added up. “Wait a minute. You’re not really going to make me go skating are you?”
“Be ready at two.”
“Hold it, are we—”
“Bye.” He ended the call.
“Ugh, you big jerk.” Sighing, I punched end on my phone and dialed Coco.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I just got a call from Charlie.” I pulled my plate out of the microwave, set it on the island and grabbed a fork.
“Ooooh. What’s up?”
“He’s being all cryptic about it, but I think he wants to take me skating on Saturday.”
“Fun!”
I grimaced, forking some penne with more vehemence than necessary. “Not if you’re me.” God, couldn’t we just skip the friendly activity bit and get right to the no-strings sex?
“Do you even have skates?”
“No. I think he’s buying me a pair. For Christmas or something.” I shoved some pasta in my mouth.
“That’s so sweet!”
“I know, but now I have to buy him something, don’t I? And what is this? Are we friends or something more? I’m frustrated. I can’t get a read on him.”
“You sound frustrated. Listen, don’t worry about what it is. Just have fun with him. Do what you want to do. And don’t worry about painting Saturday, either, I think we might finish tonight anyway. God, I can’t believe the wedding is next weekend. It’s insane.”
I reached for my wine. “Are you ready?”
