Clarissa Lincoln is a martini glass half full type. Heck, even when she slurps the last bits of icy vodka from the glass, she'll tell you it's plumb full!
Until a disaster of a night on New Year's Eve sends the daydreaming, serial dater spiraling as...
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"Conner, you realize it's rude to look at your phone on a work meeting, right?"
"The zoom doesn't start for another five minutes, Emma," I defend.
"Don't get cute," she says in a clipped voice. "Seriously, who are you texting?"
"I'll explain all that when everyone is on," I say.
The last thing I need to do is go over this again and again when they still don't get and or like it.
My phone chimes again, she already picked her flowers?
I glance down to see not Rissa replying again but a new text from Cami that simply says, hey.
Hi... I send back with a concerned frown. Is everything okay?
Does something have to be wrong to text you? She replies in an instant, and I can hear her snark through the phone.
Well, no... but you never do.
Nothing is wrong. I have a question.
What?
Did you have a date this weekend? I saw you liked some post you got tagged in.
You're stalking my social media?
No, Mom is, and we have a bet going, so???
No date, Cami.
Knew it! Ha!
I scowl and shake my head as I set my phone aside.
"Come on, fess up; who are you texting," Emma says.
"My sister," I say as I look back into the screen.
"Right," Emma drawls out the word, "then why did you have that goofy smile on your face?"
"I didn't!"
"Well, not now, but when I first logged on, you did," she says.
"It was my sister, see, Cami Fields," I shove the phone at the screen and she leans in.
"You have your sister's full name on your phone as a contact name?" Emma scoffs, and then a smirk pulls at her lips. "It looks like she's asking you about your date this weekend!"
"I didn't have a date —"
"Conner had a date?" Brenda's face pops up on the screen at that exact moment.
"It wasn't a date," I say.
"Then why were you blushing?" Emma asks.
"He was blushing? Must've been some date!" Branda giggles.
"What date?" Johnathan, my publisher's screen flashes on next. Great. The last thing I need is for Johnathan to think I'm not focused. He's annoyed enough that it's taken this long for an idea.
