Mr. Wrong Number(43)

“Oh, my God—Glenda! I thought it was you!” A girl who looked around my age came over and hugged Glenda. She shot me a nice smile—man, the girl had perfect teeth—and said to Glenda, “How are you?”

The two of them caught up for a second, so I nibbled on the tiny piece of crust left on my plate until they were done. I kind of wished I’d ordered two slices instead of one. After they hugged and the girl walked away, Glenda turned her beaming face to me.

“I’m so sorry, Liv; she used to intern for me and I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“Oh, my gosh—no big deal at all.”

Glenda said, “So where were we?”

I honestly couldn’t remember. “I think I was thanking you for taking me to lunch.”

“Well,” she said, sitting back in her chair, “I just wanted to do something nice because we’re all so happy with the column. It’s exactly what we wanted but more. Bob thinks you’ve got a solid number of nonparents reading your articles.”

“Really?” I had no idea who Bob was but I wasn’t about to ask. If “Bob” thought people liked it, I was a happy girl. “That’s so awesome.”

She hugged me when we were leaving the restaurant, and said, “I knew I was right about you, Olivia. Congratulations on your success.”

I couldn’t stop smiling for two blocks as I walked home, blown away by my good fortune. But by the third block, I started to worry. It was just too good to be true—things didn’t work like that for me. Someone was going to find out it was me or that I didn’t have kids; I just knew it. And they would tell Glenda and everything would be ruined.

It was only a matter of time.

My phone buzzed.


Colin: Did you nap on my bed?



I smiled and responded with: It’s only 2:00.


Colin: So?

Me: So only drunks and frat boys nap early. I’m headed home right now, and I’ll probably snuggle into your bed soon after my arrival.

Colin: Where are you now?

Me: Just had lunch with my editor.

Colin: Wow, fancy.

Me: I am, in fact, the fanciest.

Colin: Restaurant?

Me: Zio’s.

Colin: Did you get the New York King?

Me: Why not ask me if I got the vomit-and-poo pizza? Gross.

Colin: You don’t like sausage?

Me: I do not.

Colin: I would’ve pegged you for a meat lover.

Me: Is that some sort of ribald suggestion about penises?

Colin: Now who’s gross, perv? I literally meant you seem like someone who enjoys foods that were once animals.

Me: I don’t like meat mixes that are squirted into casings.

Colin: You really have a way with words, Marshall.

Me: Don’t I know it.



It was weird how comfortable it was, texting with Colin. I didn’t really know how or why, but the back-and-forth was so good that I didn’t miss Mr. Wrong Number for once.

Colin fell easily into his place.


Colin: Well, don’t trash my bed, loser.

Me: Oh, I’m just going to eat spaghetti and meatballs in there, no worries.

Colin: It wouldn’t surprise me if you actually did.



I decided to go straight up to his apartment when I got back. My beautiful pad would be waiting, but I needed to get in a nap before he returned home and I lost my chance. I still had my key, so I let myself in like I still lived there.

The place looked exactly the same, only a little neater. It’d only been a day, but I expected it to feel different already. I stole a Dr Pepper from the fridge and headed for Colin’s bed, but got distracted by the sight of the office.

It was gorgeous.

No clothes lying around, no ugly mattress, and the desk was super organized. Colin had clearly moved his work stuff back into the space, because unlike when I’d occupied the room, there were file folders and Post-it notes all over the glass surface. I didn’t know what it was, but there was something about seeing his businesslike handwriting that made me a little . . . impressed.

Weird, right?

I walked into his room, and it looked exactly the same as it had during every previous nap session. His bed was made, the charcoal comforter perfectly straightened with the pillows just right, making it look like an advertisement. The dark wood of his nightstand and dresser gleamed as if just dusted, and it smelled like pine.

And Colin.

I kicked off my shoes, knowing it was going to take me approximately thirty seconds to fall asleep once I climbed on top of that king-sized cloud and laid down my head. I dragged the edge of the comforter up and over me before setting my phone alarm for forty minutes, but fifteen minutes later my phone was ringing.

“Mfhello?” I sat up and blinked, trying to work through the shock of being woken up.

“Hey, Olivia—it’s Jordyn in the office. I just wanted to let you know that the guys from the furniture store just brought your key back so they’re all finished.”

I scratched my head and said, “What?”

“Nebraska Furniture Mart. They just delivered something to your apartment.”

I got off Colin’s bed and fixed the blanket. “My apartment?”

“Um, yes; was that not okay?”

I picked up my purse and shoes from the floor and started for the door. “I mean, it’s okay, but I didn’t order anything. Are you sure it was my apartment?”