Dream On(23)

“You know you’re supposed to be there in fifteen minutes, right?”

“I know! And now I don’t have time to go home and change… help! Can you drive over and bring me the dress we talked about? The knee-length periwinkle one that’s hanging on the back of my closet? And the white stone necklace and matching sandals?” It’s not a date, but I still want to look my best… not like I spent the last ten hours hunched over a computer like a gargoyle.

“Oh, honey, I wish I could. Any other night I’d totally be there, but I have a thing.”

“What thing?”

“I’m presenting at an engineering conference downtown. They asked me to speak on a panel for Young Leaders in Flight.” Her voice takes on a mocking bravado, and I can practically hear her eye roll.

“A: that’s awesome, own it. B: Why did you tell Devin I could do Friday when he suggested it at the bar? I wouldn’t have missed cheering you on for the world. Devin and I could have met some other night.”

“I couldn’t let you put off having drinks with him. There will be other conferences. No biggie. Why don’t you text Devin and let him know you’ll be half an hour late? Then you can go home and change,” she says.

“I texted him earlier to give him a heads-up that I might be a bit late, and he was already on his way from Independence.”

“Maybe he got stuck in traffic? It is rush hour on a Friday. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’s running behind too…”

My phone chooses that moment to buzz and I check the notification on the screen. “Shit!” I blurt.

“What?”

I put her on speakerphone and read the text.

“I’m here. I got us a table up front by the bar. What do you want to drink? I’ll order for you.”

Fingers flying across the screen, I respond. Gin and tonic, thanks! Leaving work now…

“Aww, that’s sweet,” croons Brie.

Warmth expands my chest and creeps up my neck. “Agreed. But, Brie, he’s already at the restaurant. I can’t make him wait another half hour to go home and change. He barely agreed to hear me out in the first place. If I’m not there soon he might think twice about meeting with me and decide to leave.”

“Then it’s go time. Come on, let’s see what we’re working with.” My phone buzzes again, this time with a FaceTime request from Brie. I accept and prop my phone against the mirror. Her heart-shaped, anxious face fills the screen, peering at me as I take a step back and turn in a circle, holding out my arms.

She pushes her thin gold glasses further up her nose. “Hmmm,” she murmurs.

“That’s it? Hmmm?”

“Not bad ‘hmmm.’ Thoughtful ‘hmmm.’ What do you have in your bag?”

“I don’t know. Zip ties, kerosene, maybe a stick of dynamite?”

“Knowing you? I believe it. I meant in terms of confidence-boosting doodads.”

Pulling my bag over from where I’d dropped it on the counter, I dig through its murky depths and begin pulling out anything and everything that could potentially help me look like I didn’t just crawl out of an office-sized ditch. “Concealer, lipstick, mascara, bobby pins…” My fingers brush against something small and metal and I grab it. “Ooo, dangly earrings!” I search for the other half of the pair. I eventually find it and marvel at the glittering gold teardrops I thought I’d lost years ago. Thank God I haven’t cleaned out this bag since law school. Or probably ever, to be honest. Brie likes to joke that I’m the queen of clutter, and she’s not wrong.

“Perfect!” She whoops. “That’s all you need. Brighten up your undereye with the concealer, put on a coat of mascara, and use the lipstick on your lips, cheeks, and eyelids. Swap out your studs and you’re ready to go.”

I swipe on the makeup in record time. I already look like I got at least two more hours of sleep. My face glows with the added color and the earrings shimmer around my jaw. “What about my hair?”

“Can you take it down?”

“I have bun hair.”

“Okay, keep it up. Maybe secure Rogue Curl with an extra bobby pin.”

“Check.” Wetting my fingers under the faucet, I smooth the flyaways around my forehead and slip a bobby pin into my hair behind my ear next to the one that’s already there, ensuring my one short lock doesn’t escape.

“Gorgeous. With your bone structure, you can rock a high bun like none other. Now, unbutton an extra button on your shirt.”

“Why?” I blurt.

“You’re meeting your dream man. It’s okay to show a little lace.”

“I’m wearing a skin-colored T-shirt bra.”

“Just see how it looks.”

I slip the third button undone from my emerald-green blouse, and it parts, revealing the barest hint of cleavage, but thankfully no grandma bra.

Brie pumps her fist. “Yass, you look hot. Have you ordered an Uber yet?”

I pick up my phone. “On it. Thanks a million, Brie. And good luck on your panel. I know you’ll rock it.”

“Thanks, doll. Can’t wait to hear all about your tête-à-tête with Devin when you get home.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Later!”

“Love you!” I end the call and pull open my Uber app as I leave the bathroom. It’s still searching for a ride when I step out of the elevator on the first floor. I curse under my breath. The closest available Uber is twelve minutes away, and it’s already 6:55. It’s only a ten-minute walk to the restaurant though. I can make it on foot and show up more or less on time.