delicate [1] | TAYLOR SWIFT

28

"Hm?"

"Even when I'm drunk, I can still remember that we made dinner plans, and you can't? That hurts!"

Kaia was definitely pouting now. Taylor's heart sank.

"I remember, Kibs," she told her softly. She did remember. She was only distracted by the fact that Kaia had called her Baby. "I thought I was cooking?"

"Okay, good. Yes, you are," Kaia confirmed before someone called her over. "Hold on, you twat! I'm on the bloody phone!"

The mouth on that girl, sheesh...

Taylor grinned widely. "Hey, go have fun! I'll see you in New York."

"I— okay, okay. I'll see you. Bonne nuit, lapin," she said and before Taylor could ask her what that meant, Kaia had already hung up.

With a little frown, she turned around and asked aloud, "anyone know what 'lapin' means? It's French... I think."

"I'm pretty sure it means rabbit," Greg chimed in, a funny expression on his face.

"You speak French, Greg?" She asked in surprise and he simply shrugged, adjusting the packages in his arms.

"A little."

Taylor chuckled, placing her phone back in her pocket. Kaia called her a rabbit. Was it endearing? She had no idea, though it did sound cute.

"What was that about?" Abby asked curiously, eyeing Taylor from the corner of her eyes.

"Nothing, she's a little drunk, I guess," Taylor laughed, shaking her head at Kaia's silly inebriated self.

Abby gave her a weird look before turning around, satisfied with her choice of linens and ready to leave.

"What?" Taylor demanded, falling into step with her friend.

"Nothing," Abigail chuckled, walking toward the cash registers at the front.

"What was that look?"

"Nothing," she insisted, and then after a beat, she added, "I just finally get why you're rushing to head back to Manhattan so fast."

Taylor's cheeks tinted red. There was no reason to lie or hide away from her best friend. She would eventually know everything anyway. And there was no use to try and hide it from herself either.

"Yeah... I— I don't know, I'm hoping maybe we could... you know," she shrugged, going quiet as they approached one of the checkout tills.

"Make my job harder," Greg finished for her jokingly.

"Well, Tree's job's going to be even harder," Abby pointed out which made him sigh and shake his head. They kept talking as though the concerned blonde wasn't even there.

"Yeah, but she doesn't have to follow them around twenty-four-seven."

"Oh, that's very fair," Abby said with a sympathetic nod, pulling out her credit card to pay for her purchases. Taylor could see the middle-aged woman behind the counter following their banter not-so-discretely, trying to figure out what was really going on and it only made her blush even harder. "You better start praying the walls in that building are soundproof."

"I've got noise-cancelling headphones," Greg reassured the strawberry-blonde who was smirking amusedly while punching in her four-digit code.

"Fucking hell, Greg, you're fired!" Taylor was beyond embarrassed. "And you—" she pointed her finger in Abby's face, twirling it between her eyes. "Are officially dead to me."

"God, you're so dramatic!" Abby laughed, shoving Taylor's shoulder on her way out with the bags after thanking the lady who helped her out.

"So.... Can I finally go back to Chicago?" Greg asked, standing there awkwardly between his car and Taylor's, though his voice was playful, knowing that his boss hadn't really meant any of her words. She threatened to fire him a lot. It was all in good fun.