lips on Georgina.
Thankfully, though, when I got to Slingers, I didn’t see Troy, or Georgie, anywhere. And when I chatted up the bartender, I found out Troy had played his set earlier, as scheduled, thereafter flirted with several women, per usual, and then left about fifteen minutes before my arrival with a blonde who’d practically swallowed his face in the few minutes before they’d cut out. Also, per usual. It was all excellent news, obviously. Also, proof I’m losing my damned mind.
Finally, when I’d exhausted all my ideas, I drove to Georgina’s hotel. Which was where I saw her convertible in the parking lot. I was glad to see she’d returned to the hotel... but sick to my stomach to think she might not be alone in her room. Oh, God, how I toyed with the idea of going to Georgina’s room and knocking on her damned door. But, somehow, I refrained. I forced myself to leave and drive home, even though my heart felt like it was bleeding.
And now, here I am. Tossing and turning as I await a return text from Georgina—confirmation she’s alone in that fucking hotel room.
Exhaling in resignation, I grab my phone and tap out another text to her, asking her if she’s home yet, even though I know she is... Also, even though I’ve already sent her three similar texts, none of which she’s answered.
Are you back at your hotel yet? PLEASE REPLY.
This time, Georgina texts back immediately.
I told you not to text me, Mr. Rivers.
A huge smile spreads across my face. If she’s answering me, then she’s alone. Has she been alone all night... or did whatever guy from the bar just now leave?
Me: Just want to make sure you’re safe and sound.
Georgina: Do I need to sic my lawyers on you? That’s four texts tonight. You’ve long since crossed into stalker territory, dude.
Me: I thought you said you were turning off your phone until morning.
Georgina: I lied. That’s this thing where a person says one thing but does another. Oh, wait, I don’t need to explain that to you. You know all about lying, don’t you?
Again, I smile. Even when Georgina is bitch-slapping me, she turns me on.
Me: Are you back at your hotel?
Georgina: None of your business.
Me: Just want to be sure you’re safe.
Georgina: My safety isn’t your concern.
Me: Yes, it is. You’re my friend, remember? Also, you’re working on the special issue. While you’re doing that, your safety is my top priority. If you don’t tell me where you are, then I’ll call your father to ask him if he happens to know how to use the “Find My iPhone” feature. I’m assuming you’re on your father’s phone plan?
Georgina: Goddammit! You can’t keep doing that! Yes, I’m at my hotel, you wack job! I’ve been here for well over an hour, doing research on my laptop.
Me: Did you get hit on at the bar?
Georgina: What do you think?
My heart rate spikes.
Me: But did you come back to your room alone?
Georgina: None of your business. But because I’m a saint, and we’re friends, I will admit the guy who hit on me at the bar was a turd. He was good looking, but within two minutes of talking to him, I hated his guts. And not in a good way. Not the way I hate your guts. Like, for real.
I sigh with the force of a thousand hurricanes. And smile at the backhanded compliment.
Me: Thank you for telling me that. I had a semi-psychotic breakdown tonight, imagining you going home with someone else. The thought damn near gave me a stroke. I actually drove around for hours tonight, aimlessly looking for your parked car outside random bars.
Georgina: You did not.
Me: I did. Bernie says hi, btw.
Georgina: You went to Bernie’s Place? Well, that’s not crazy or anything.
Me: You drive me crazy.
Georgina: Good.
Me: Georgie, let me come to your hotel now. I need to see you.
Georgina: It’s almost 3:00.
Me: I don’t care.
Georgina: Well, I do. I’ve got important meetings at work tomorrow, including one with CeeCee and Zasu. I need to get some sleep, so I can kick ass tomorrow.
I feel oddly encouraged about this entire exchange. She isn’t shutting down the concept of seeing me, really. She seems to be saying now isn’t a good time.
Me: Okay, let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night.
Georgina: Zasu and I are doing a working dinner tomorrow night, probably until late into the night.
Me: Lunch tomorrow, then.
Georgina: Like I said, I’m going to