"Well that depends, is this just a business meeting or are you expecting more? And if more what exactly? Are you giving it up?"
"I don't know.”
“So, you have a crush on him. He’s hot I don’t blame you. Just go and see where it takes you.”
“I don’t know why I’m overthinking this. I need to just go in and listen to him and take it from there.”
“Then what’s got your matching panties in a knot?”
“I don't want him to know I'm still a virgin.” I blurt out. “It sounds stupid but I want him to be entranced by me. I want him to feel bad for treating me the way he did, and then feel worse when I tell him I really don’t want to be in the spotlight.”
“But you’re so good, honey. You deserve to be in the spotlight. Don’t shut him down immediately. Listen to what he has to offer. Thomas has a good feeling about the two of you.” Her voice had a pleading tone to it.
“I’ll listen to him.”
“Yay!”
“But only because I love you, and you set this up.”
“And you’re not letting him see your matching panties?”
“Of course, I'm not just giving it up.” At least I don’t think I am. I think to myself. Am I? How bad could it be to have sex with Charlie Maxwell? I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t fantasized about it for years. And he knows what he is doing. A virgin could do worse.
“Well you could do worse,” Lila says in that old movie star voice she likes to throw on reading my mind.
“Stop it. I’m not the girl who throws herself at someone who didn't want me in high school. Why are we even discussing this? We are talking about music.” I say holding up a sexy red bra and panty set as I speak. Why do I care what’s underneath my clothes if I’m not going to let him see?
“That's exactly what you're doing, and it’s okay to throw yourself at him. And you can not only talk music you can make sweet sweet music too,” she says and hangs up. Lila has a flair for the dramatic so I'm not surprised. I don't have time to worry because he'll be here soon and I still have to shower and shave. There's so much to do.
In the shower, I picture being sexy and cool when he comes in. I can be the opposite of who I was in high school. I play out how the evening is going to go.
Charlie will be stunned at how sexy I look. He'll stammer out we can leave anytime. I'll say, what's your hurry, Sparky. I laugh at that ridiculous nickname as I lather up my legs. I've been in the shower too long and the hot water has abandoned me. Shaving too fast so I don’t freeze, I nick my thigh and curse the gods of hair removal.
I choose a body wash I think makes me smell great and quickly wash off. Getting out of the shower I wonder if I should have washed my hair. I told myself there was no time but there had been excessive sweat on my part from my performance and I'd just fallen into bed last night and gone through my work day with it piled up. Now I worry my imagined evening is already falling to pieces.
A glance at the clock tells me I better just spray in some dry shampoo and call it good. I put on what I imagine is the right amount of makeup for such a date, lotion everywhere, and slide into the lingerie set my nerves pushed to the back as I rush around.
I look in my mirror and let out a whistle. Not too shabby. The doorbell rings and I panic, tripping over the shoes I laid out and l land on the floor with a loud thud. I bite my tongue and smack the side of my face on the carpet, my perfect smooth new personality vanishing. The fall itself didn't hurt too badly, but I can taste the blood in my mouth and my ego is painfully bruised. I tell myself, at least I didn't fall in front of Charlie.
I’m a hot mess it feels like I’ve been transported right back to high school. Looking at the clock I realize he's at least a half hour early. “What on earth? What guy is half a friggin hour early for a date? Seriously?” I mutter around my swollen tongue.
“It's me,” I hear Lila’s voice on the other side of the door. I'm both relieved and confused as I throw on a robe and run to the door.
“Hey, what are you doing here,” my tongue is swelling and the words come out more mumbled than I want them to. And when I’m going to be discussing music with a sexy blast from my past.
“Why is your face so red?”
I sigh as I test my tongue with my finger to see how bad it is. “Because I tripped on my shadow, got my feet tangled together, bit my tongue, slammed my face on the carpet and there ya go. And it’s your fault because you made me think you were him.” I put a hand on my cheek and hope it doesn’t look too bad.
“Okay, go ice your tongue it's probably not as bad as it feels and I'll find you something to wear. I’m sorry I made you panic more than you already were.”
“Why are you here?” I ask as I obediently go into the kitchen to fetch some ice.
“You sounded terrified on the phone and I didn’t want you to ruin your chances of popping your cherry before it even started. I'm here to help you get ready and quickly.” She looks at her watch and flies off to my bedroom while I ice my tongue.
“Don’t be gross Lila,” I call behind her.
I look at it in the bathroom mirror after five minutes and realize she's right it looks a lot better. I can't kiss with a tongue the size of my head. I need to stop thinking about kissing Charlie. This is what got me in this predicament in the first place.