What if she did something wrong?
“By ready, what do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.
“Out of their uniforms, in something presentable and not at each other’s throats.”
Elle sighed in relief. She could probably do that.
Depending, of course, on Sally’s mood.
“Yes, I can have them ready,” Elle replied.
His voice went back to soft when he murmured, “Thanks, baby.” Then he asked, “What are you doing?”
She looked at herself in the changing room mirror and froze.
He was going to think she was a pampered, spoiled rich girl, loads of cash in the bank, no job, nothing to do but shop.
She should be at his house, mopping the floors, making homemade bread, hand washing delicates, inventing wholesome family recipes, not out gallivanting with her best friend and spending hundreds of pounds.
She began hyperventilating.
“Elle, are you there?” he asked.
“Yes,” she wheezed.
“Are you okay?”
No, she was not.
Elle forced herself to sound (somewhat) normal, “Yes.”
“You sounded strange.”
“I’m fine.”
There was a pause and then he asked again, “What are you doing?”
Elle wondered if honesty was the best policy.
Apparently, she wondered too long.
For when Prentice’s voice came at her, he sounded borderline unhappy, “Elle, are you with Annie?”
“Um… yes?” she asked as if he could confirm that she was indeed with Annie.
“What are you doing?”
“Um…” she muttered but didn’t answer.
“Elle.” His voice held a warning.
“We’re shopping,” she blurted then closed her eyes tight.
“For what?” he pressed.
Elle opened her eyes and explained on a rush, “Clothes. See, I didn’t think I’d be staying this long, definitely not staying staying, as in, moving here. I’ve run out of clothes. I’m recycling outfits. I need clothes.”
She held her breath waiting for his answer which came at her in a voice filled with relief.