Oh good thinking. Now he’ll imagine me all wet and in my knickers. In real life, I’ve got on yellow cotton panties and a pale blue tank top I’ve had for so long it used to be navy.
“You want to speak with her? Sure, let me just make sure she’s not still nude.”
“YAZ!” I mouth, waving at her to cut it out.
“Oh good, she’s got on this silky little robe. Barely decent, really—”
I yank the mobile out of her hand so hard I scratch her cheek. She winces in pain and I am sorry, but well, what choice did I have?!
“H-hello?” I say, immediately running toward my bedroom so I can barricade myself inside for some privacy. I get the door halfway closed before my two flatmates weasel their way in. Privacy is obviously not happening.
“Candace?” Logan asks, sounding a little amused.
“Yes, hi.” I’m breathing heavily now, trying hard to get them to ease up on the door so I can force it closed, but it’s two against one, and I’m the runt of the litter; there’s no way I’ll overpower them.
I sigh and let it swing open. They stand in the doorway, arms crossed while they listen, mighty proud of themselves.
“You sound like you’re working out or something,” he notes.
“No, just…showered, like Yasmine said.”
“Huh.” He sounds less than believing. “It’s just that you called a second before I did. So did you call while you were in the shower?”
Oh bloody hell! So he’s got brains and brawn?
“Oh…I don’t…not sure. Maybe it was a butt dial?” My voice goes all high-pitched and squeaky. I’m making no sense.
“Right. Is this your number?”
“No. It’s my friend Kat’s. My mobile is…dead.”
“You’re acting odd.”
I am odd. That’s what I want to say, really. Just lay all my cards out there so there’s no preconceived notions of me being fit for proper human contact. Best to just lock me up with some food and water and leave me be.
I sigh and rub my forehead—it’s still raw from where I scrubbed away the bird poop.
“Truthfully, I think I’m a bit nervous.” I tack on a laugh at the end that sounds absolutely mental.
Yasmine and Kat are both cutting their hands across their necks, trying to tell me to ease up on the weirdo, but they should know better than anyone that’s a futile ask.
“Why’s that?”
God, his voice. It’s better like this, without his appearance distracting me. Like this, I can concentrate on how gorgeous he sounds…how easily he unravels me…
“I just…I found out who you are.”
“Oh yeah? I wasn’t hiding it or anything.”
I rush to agree. “Of course. No. It’s just—it’s kind of a funny story. I thought…when you first introduced yourself as a professional football player at The Day School, I thought you said foosball.”
His laugh sets me on a cloud. I’m floating.
“That explains so much,” he replies, sounding a little relieved.
“Yeah, I really got confused. I looked into foosball and everything.”
“Why would you do that?”
Oh right. Bugger.
“Just…I was curious about you. Is that embarrassing to say?” Judging by Kat and Yasmine’s reactions, it absolutely is. “Oh well, it’s true. I wanted to know more about you after you came to pick up Briggs from school, so I looked into the league and even watched a few matches on YouTube. Honestly, I thought it was the most ridiculous sport I’d ever seen, but I was going to make myself really like it if you and I became friends.”
He’s really laughing now, and I can almost picture him pinching his eyes closed and wiping a hand down his cheek like, This girl. What a kook.
“That’s hilarious. I’ll have to tell Darius about that. I’ve been complaining to him about the fact that you haven’t called me since I gave you my number.”
BLISS. My whole body lights up like a Times Square marquee. He’s been waiting for me to call! This man with his hordes of models actually wanted to hear from me!
“Truthfully, it was the money bit that threw me for a loop,” I reply, speaking truthfully.
“The money?”
“Yes, well, you left that nice note saying I should give you a call, but then you also gave Roger all that cash, and I don’t quite know what to make of it. You don’t…that is to say…you don’t think I’m some kind of sex worker, do you?”
“Christ,” he hisses. “No, Candace. No. Absolutely not. I’m an idiot.”
I laugh, more than a little relieved. “Oh okay, good. It’s just…I obviously can’t accept that money, whatever it was intended as.”
“I guess it was supposed to be a tip? Though now I see that it was pretty stupid. I just saw you on your feet all night working your ass off and knew you’d already been teaching all day. I felt bad.”
Oh crap. Oh bollocks.
That’s what this is.
He feels bad for me!
I’m Briggs’ teacher and he sees me as this poor soul who’s working hard and trying to make her way, and he gave me that money and his number because he felt bad. Oh my god, I wonder if he told his friends about the poor cocktail waitress and CRAP! Yasmine went on about the bloody shower and he must be so confused now.
“Right, anyway, I’ll have Briggs take home the cash to return it to you. Or maybe that’d look odd, me sending a toddler off with half a thousand stuffed in his trouser pockets. Tell you what, I’ll just—I’ll put it in an envelope and maybe pass it off to the nanny who usually comes to collect him.”
“Candace—”
“No, that’ll work well. She’s real polite. She won’t steal your money. I actually…I’ve got to go now, but it was nice talking to you! No need to worry about me in the future. I’m doing quite all right. Bye now!”
I hang up before he can get another word in, and when Kat’s mobile rings again, I shake my head and forbid them from answering.
“It’s obvious now what’s happened.”
“You’re not some charity case,” Yasmine agrees. “You don’t need his bloody money.”
“Right. God, I’m glad I didn’t get too carried away fancying him. Can you imagine how I’d feel then?”
Like an utter fool, crushed and embarrassed beyond belief.
I turn away from them and make some lame excuse about needing to get a bit of air. I throw on some joggers and shorts and yank off the tea towel, then I make my way down the stairs of our building, more than a little happy to get back out into the city. It’s so blissfully noisy and chaotic out here, and my mopey thoughts nearly disappear altogether. Nearly.
I do just what I’ve promised and tuck Logan’s money into an envelope for Briggs’ nanny. The next day, at the end of school, I try to pass it off to her.
I’ve always liked her. Like the others, she’s never late. She smiles and thanks me profusely whenever I hand Briggs off, though we never chat much beyond that. I always took it to mean she was busy and didn’t want to dally, but now I realize there might be a language barrier. She’s got a heavy Eastern European accent and is mighty confused when I try to explain to her who the money is for.