“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Great,” she said. “That will give me something to look forward to over the next few days while I come to terms with the fact that if the whole world goes bald, I’ll have absolutely no relevant skills with which to feed myself.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “There’s always modeling.”
She laughed. “Oh yeah. I forgot I’m expecting a growth spurt any minute now.”
“Or being my sex slave. That offer’s still on the table.”
“I’d rather model.”
“Ouch,” I said. “That’s really saying something.”
“Again, it’s just the slavery part I take issue with.”
I sighed. “Oh well. A guy can dream.”
“Dream on, lover boy. Dream on.”
“I’m ashamed to admit how much I like when you call me that.”
“I’ll call you anything you want on Saturday.”
“I need to go before you say anything else like that. If I walk into the locker room with a hard on, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “Congratulations again.”
“Thanks. See you Saturday.”
I stared at the phone in my hand until the little picture of her smiling face disappeared. Then I took a deep breath. It killed me to think of her feeling sorry for herself at home in her pajamas.
Actually, I quite liked the thought of her in her pajamas. And she probably wasn’t sulking. She was probably getting on with things like she always did. After all, she was tough and she worked hard. This was only a minor setback, one we’d probably laugh about someday.
Besides, little did she know, her luck was about to change.