her.”
“Sure you do.” Patti turned to face me. “You have plenty to say to her, which is why you avoid calling.”
Ugh. I did not want to avoid anything anymore, but I didn’t want to think about my mom. “Nick’s officially asked me out,” I blurted, “and I need permission to say yes. You know, rule number two and all.”
“Ah, the Italian Stallion.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Ha ha.” I let her get her kicks out while I swallowed my bite. “So, can I go out with him?”
“No.” Patti’s voice went flat. “I already told you the ‘don’t date where you work’ rule.”
“What?” I’d played by her Boyfriend Bylaws and she was saying no? “That was not a rule. You merely said it in passing.”
Silence.
I felt like smacking Patti with the pizza box, but figured that wouldn’t help me achieve my goal. Part of me wondered why I was even trying, though. Did I really want to go out with Nick? Remembering his smile, I told myself of course I did.
“Nick is super nice.” It took all my effort to sound interested. “He has potential, really. So, per our agreement, I’m requesting permission to accept the date. Okay?”
“No.” Patti’s voice was gruff. “At least, not yet. I have some questions first.”
I hadn’t expected that one. “Fine.”
“How did he ask you out?”
I rolled my eyes. “We were talking about my dance classes and how we both liked clubs and then he asked if I was busy this weekend.”
“I see,” she said, making me wonder what the heck she saw. “He’s a clubber.”
“He’s not,” I said, excited to be able to say this. “Well, he hasn’t been to any clubs since he moved to Sac. I don’t know about when he lived in L.A.”
“Doesn’t sound like you know too much about him.” She gave me a skeptical look. “Do you like him?”
I mentally winced. Sometimes she was so insightful, it was scary. I thought about it. “He seems nice, but…” I remembered how hard it had been to keep a flowing conversation with him. “I guess I don’t know yet.”
Patti smiled. “Then he’s not The One.”
I picked up a pillow off the couch and smacked her with it.
She busted up laughing, grabbed another pillow, then hit me back. “But fine, Signorina Porter. You can have one date with the Italian Studmeister. But, you’d better get to know a lot more about him if you expect permission for another date.”
“Thanks, Patti.” I picked up a second slice of pizza. “I’ll even find out his shoe size.”
“Definitely find out his shoe size.” Patti laughed. “By verbal means only. Boyfriend Bylaw number four. ”
****
After my second aerobics class Tuesday morning, I strode toward the locker room to shower, then tensed at the familiar ring from my cell. Pressing my lips together tightly, I fumbled for the phone, and clicked the “talk” button.
I already had three voicemails from Kaitlin and it wasn’t even ten in the morning. “Hello?”
“Thank God I reached you.” Kaitlin’s panicked voice came through the line. “Please tell me you don’t have plans Friday night. I have a cake tasting appointment and I desperately need my maid of honor.”
A cake emergency. Great. “Isn’t that something you’d want to do with P-p….” His name stuck in my throat. “Your, uh, fiancé?”
“I asked him to come, but you know men.” Kaitlin laughed as if she’d said the funniest thing in the world.
“Not really.” It was so the truth. I hadn’t anticipated Brad dumping me. And Matt, who’d once thought the world of me, now acted like touching me would be infectious.
“So, you’ll be there?” Kaitlin sounded hopeful. “Six o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner after. Somewhere nice.”
“Actually, I have class at six.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Going cake tasting for Paul and Kaitlin’s wedding ranked right up there with getting a spray tan in the middle of Arco Arena. “Sorry, but I can’t get out of work. It’s a set
“Sure you do.” Patti turned to face me. “You have plenty to say to her, which is why you avoid calling.”
Ugh. I did not want to avoid anything anymore, but I didn’t want to think about my mom. “Nick’s officially asked me out,” I blurted, “and I need permission to say yes. You know, rule number two and all.”
“Ah, the Italian Stallion.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Ha ha.” I let her get her kicks out while I swallowed my bite. “So, can I go out with him?”
“No.” Patti’s voice went flat. “I already told you the ‘don’t date where you work’ rule.”
“What?” I’d played by her Boyfriend Bylaws and she was saying no? “That was not a rule. You merely said it in passing.”
Silence.
I felt like smacking Patti with the pizza box, but figured that wouldn’t help me achieve my goal. Part of me wondered why I was even trying, though. Did I really want to go out with Nick? Remembering his smile, I told myself of course I did.
“Nick is super nice.” It took all my effort to sound interested. “He has potential, really. So, per our agreement, I’m requesting permission to accept the date. Okay?”
“No.” Patti’s voice was gruff. “At least, not yet. I have some questions first.”
I hadn’t expected that one. “Fine.”
“How did he ask you out?”
I rolled my eyes. “We were talking about my dance classes and how we both liked clubs and then he asked if I was busy this weekend.”
“I see,” she said, making me wonder what the heck she saw. “He’s a clubber.”
“He’s not,” I said, excited to be able to say this. “Well, he hasn’t been to any clubs since he moved to Sac. I don’t know about when he lived in L.A.”
“Doesn’t sound like you know too much about him.” She gave me a skeptical look. “Do you like him?”
I mentally winced. Sometimes she was so insightful, it was scary. I thought about it. “He seems nice, but…” I remembered how hard it had been to keep a flowing conversation with him. “I guess I don’t know yet.”
Patti smiled. “Then he’s not The One.”
I picked up a pillow off the couch and smacked her with it.
She busted up laughing, grabbed another pillow, then hit me back. “But fine, Signorina Porter. You can have one date with the Italian Studmeister. But, you’d better get to know a lot more about him if you expect permission for another date.”
“Thanks, Patti.” I picked up a second slice of pizza. “I’ll even find out his shoe size.”
“Definitely find out his shoe size.” Patti laughed. “By verbal means only. Boyfriend Bylaw number four. ”
****
After my second aerobics class Tuesday morning, I strode toward the locker room to shower, then tensed at the familiar ring from my cell. Pressing my lips together tightly, I fumbled for the phone, and clicked the “talk” button.
I already had three voicemails from Kaitlin and it wasn’t even ten in the morning. “Hello?”
“Thank God I reached you.” Kaitlin’s panicked voice came through the line. “Please tell me you don’t have plans Friday night. I have a cake tasting appointment and I desperately need my maid of honor.”
A cake emergency. Great. “Isn’t that something you’d want to do with P-p….” His name stuck in my throat. “Your, uh, fiancé?”
“I asked him to come, but you know men.” Kaitlin laughed as if she’d said the funniest thing in the world.
“Not really.” It was so the truth. I hadn’t anticipated Brad dumping me. And Matt, who’d once thought the world of me, now acted like touching me would be infectious.
“So, you’ll be there?” Kaitlin sounded hopeful. “Six o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner after. Somewhere nice.”
“Actually, I have class at six.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Going cake tasting for Paul and Kaitlin’s wedding ranked right up there with getting a spray tan in the middle of Arco Arena. “Sorry, but I can’t get out of work. It’s a set
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