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My twin brother exaggerates. Cooper often has great ideas. Nine times out of ten, I don’t regret it when he drags me out of the house. Today is the exception.
I consider pointing this out when an animated female voice calls out from the bustling crowd and has people moving out of the way with confused expressions. “Excuse me!”
The commanding voice comes from a short brunette dressed like a go-go dancer, barreling through the glut of people in power suits. Even more odd, she tugs behind her a giant ice chest.
The woman’s glittery midriff top and booty shorts suck the air out of my lungs. She’s the kind of woman I never talk to because why bother?
This one is funny, and I can’t take my eyes off her. I almost crack a smile while watching this tiny, fiery woman annoy and bewilder everyone around her.
“Make way, people!” she shouts, nearly running over an overly important-looking dude in an Armani suit. “Our supplies arrived late and traffic was a nightmare.”
A second woman, huffing and puffing, calls out next, “Summer, do you even know where we’re going?”
Summer. Of course her name is Summer. My least favorite season. It’s sweaty, clingy, and too much. Summer doesn’t look like any of those things. Although staring at her does sort of feel like staring at the sun during an eclipse. I know it means danger, but I can’t look away.
“I think it’s this way, Harmony!” Summer replies, winding her way through the crush of people.
Harmony, it turns out, is wearing a similar outfit but with black tights under the booty shorts and a long blazer covering up the gold bustier. She’s less sure of herself in heels as she trundles grocery bags weighed down with who knows what.
“Bottle girl, wait! I can’t run in these things!”
I continue to stare as the pair of women pass our table.
Suddenly, Summer stops in her tracks.
Harmony bumps into her and shrieks, “What are you doing?”
The first one doesn’t answer her friend. She squints at me, eyes me up and down, and arches an approving eyebrow.
“Come see me at table ten,” she says. Summer pulls a business card out of the bra of her bustier, and hands it to me.
Her finger brushes against mine, warm and soft.
The inexplicable growl comes out of me as a grunt.
“Cat got your tongue?” Summer asks, tilting her head.
“Summer! Focus!”
“I’m networking,” she says to her friend, not taking her eyes off me. I don’t know where Cooper went, but I’m glad he’s not here to see me crash and burn at flirting.
“Interesting outfit,” I say, letting my eyes flit down to her bare, tanned midsection.
I don’t say, “I’d love to see less of it,” or something Cooper might say with just enough of a smile to charm people instead of getting him slapped with a lawsuit.
I try to smile but only manage a grimace.
Her smile fades. “Thanks…I think?”
“Summer!”
“Here, let me help you.” This comes from Cooper, who’s taken it upon himself to grab the loaded bags of supplies out of the other one’s arms.
“That’s not necessary,” mutters the woman he’s helping, but there’s no stopping Cooper.
Summer says, “I gotta go. See you around.” The cute shrug of her shoulder as she walks away has me hypnotized.
“Where are you ladies from?” Cooper asks, keeping pace with the one in the blazer and tights.
