Love Struck by Chantel Guertin

Author:Chantel Guertin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2013-08-08T00:00:00+00:00

chapter eight

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Parker asked on Saturday morning as I was getting ready to head out the door.

“I don’t want to be the only girl with a bunch of guys,” I said. I kissed him quickly on the cheek and picked up my handbag.

“It’s not just going to be guys,” Parker said, opening the door for me. I stopped and turned.

“It’s not?” I asked, apprehensively.

He shrugged. “Anyone from the office can come.”

Don’t ask if Sienna’s going to be there. Don’t draw attention to her. Just smile, nod and walk out the door. You can pretend it’s fine. You’re an actor, remember, Uhma. Exit stage left. Exit. Now.

“Will S—” Oh God. What was I doing? “Steve Nash. Will he be playing?”

Parker looked at me like I’d just gotten hit in the head with a baseball. “Probably not. Since Steve Nash plays basketball, not baseball.” He gave me a smile.

“Right!” I snapped my fingers. “Well, have fun!” I gave a little wave with my raised hand and rushed out the door.

I had to find out. I dialed Sienna’s number as soon as I was safely out on the street.

She answered on the first ring.

“Hi, Sienna. It’s Uhma.”

“Oh . . . hi there. What’s up?” she said lightly.

“I was just wondering . . .” Oh God. What was I going to say? I couldn’t very well just blurt out Are you going to the baseball game with my husband?, could I? Because of course, Uhma didn’t have a husband. I needed to have a real invitation of my own so that I didn’t sound like a crazy woman, and then, if she was going to the game, she could just say, “Sorry, I’m going to the baseball game with your husband and I’m going to swap spit with him, so there.” Only, of course, she wouldn’t call him my husband.

“I just wanted to check that you’re still good for tonight?”

“Yep. Eight thirty, right?”

I confirmed the time but then went silent. I needed to invite her to something. Anything. But what? And it couldn’t be anything good, because what if it sounded so good that she actually wanted to go? Then what? Perhaps I should’ve thought through my call before madly dialling her number.

“Sorry?” Sienna said. “I think you’re cutting out. I can’t hear anything.”

That’s because I’m crazy and I’m not talking. Say something. Say. Something.

“I’m . . . having a roundtable discussion this afternoon with a bunch of accident victims and I thought you might want to come.”

Good one, Uhma. Who on earth would want to come to that on a sunny Saturday afternoon? Uhma really was a bore.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to offer,” Sienna said, and I could tell in her voice that even if she could not think of a single other thing to do this afternoon she was about to make up something, anything, just so she wouldn’t have to hang out with me. And could I really blame her?

“But I actually have plans.

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