Wait, what? Me and Eminem?! (An Eminem Fan-Fiction) *Completed*

Chapter Twenty Seven

Guys!(: Chapter Twenty Seven is here. ;D I'm not going to stall because I like this chapter and I hope you will too, but please make sure you read the author's note at the end! Get reading, and I apologize if I made a few errors, it was too long to edit. -_- Lol(;

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Thursday at work was at it always was, and although I was expecting a small text from Marshall giving me today's details, I got nothing. Brushing off the minor disappointment, I proceeded to keep myself busy, and at the end of a typical day, I hopped into my car, heading on home. For the first time in days, I was in a relatively good mood, mostly because of the lack of my mother's irritating calls abruptly, but I wasn't complaining at all. I was at a stoplight near to my house when my phone buzzed, alerting me. I hesitated to respond, and only did so after I was safely pulled into my driveway, reluctant to risk all with my average driving skills.

Dev: Hey, can I come pick you up?

Me: When? I just got home.

Him: In like ten minutes.

I figured that was approximately enough time for me to change and drop off my belongings, so I shot back a text and dashed inside, stripping off my formal work outfit and pulling on something more city chic. I was tussling my hair playfully when a horn honked, and I slammed off the straightening iron, snatching up a purse and verifying my wallet had an amount of money in it.

Locking the door, I slid outside, feet clad in red heels, and waved at him welcomingly. He rolled down the window as I controlled my purse, slipping the straps over my shoulder and pulling open the car door.

"Hey," he grinned.

"Hey."

"You ready?"

"Hell yeah." Smiling, I scooted next to him, working the straps off the slope of my shoulder and plopping the purse into my lap. After yanking the door shut, I buckled my seat belt for extra caution, and we were off.

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"What can I get you, Dri?" he beamed, whipping out his wallet as we entered the lively, yet laid back atmosphere of the coffee shop. I glanced around at the various decorations, the fanciest I had seen in such a cozy little coffee shop located near Detroit. He hadn't taken me to our usual, but instead offered we travel here. This was as close to a cordial Starbucks as we got around here, and gratefully, I cracked a small smile.

"This place is great." Smooth jazz wafted through the air, lingering with the addictive scent and flavor of coffee and fresh baked goodies.

"You like it?"

"Yeah. It's great."

We stepped up in line, his eyes fixed on the list of what they served, fingers toying with his wallet. "What'll you have?" he inquired politely once more.

"I got it, Dev. Don't worry." Assuringly, I withdrew my own clutch wallet, undid the fasten, and extracted a ten dollar bill.

"This was supposed to be my treat. God damn it," he griped boyishly, half-serious.

"Not anymore," I laughed, and it became our turn to place our requests for beverages. The cashier listened intently as Dev asked for a vanilla bean frappuchino, heavy on the whipped cream, and a loaf of moist banana bread. I decided to order a dainty caramel macchiato alongside two petite scones.

When we had been handed our beverages and sweets and bid a joyful day, we seated ourselves, and began sipping and conversing.

"So how are your friends?" I mentioned, sipping lightly, then taking a small bite of a scone.