“Heck, Sara. I didn’t know you were this hard to please!” Amy complained as she sat on a bench in the food court of the mall. “I’m exhausted.”
“I haven’t seen anything we can afford…I mean, I like,” I told her as I sat next to her.
“Sara, I know you well. You are never picky about anything. Why now?” she sighed, her exhaustion in her voice.
I started to tell her the truth but thought better of it. How could I tell her that I had spent the last few nights dreaming about the billionaire I met at the deli, getting hot and bothered by thoughts of him and what I could do to him if we ever got together? How could I tell her that I was planning a future with a man I didn’t know instead of researching Nick Saunders to find out more about him before showing up at his ball?
“Can you please find a dress you like so we can look for shoes?” Amy begged.
“I’m trying. But I want to look really nice,” I whined. “And it has to be at a reasonable price.”
“By nice you mean sexy?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” I said. “Doesn’t really have to be sexy, but sexy would be nice.”
“I knew it! You do want to meet Nick Saunders! You slut.”
“Shh…keep your voice down, Amy,” I said as I spied a woman with three kids walking quickly past us. “People can hear you and it’s not like he’s a nobody.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“I bet you do,” I smiled at Amy.
“So do you want to see his picture?” she volunteered as she pulled out her phone and started surfing the web.
“That is not a good idea,” I said. What I wanted to say was that I was terrified to see what he looked like. The likelihood that I would back out of the ball was higher if I saw Nick Saunders. I could imagine him all high and mighty with intimidating eyes. I was not going to go through with the stupid plan of gatecrashing a party if I saw what he looked like.
“You want to be surprised,” Amy said, laughing.
“Maybe so. I just don’t want to get to know him like that or I won’t go to this event at all. Besides, his voice is intimidating enough.”
“You spoke to Nick Saunders? Did you tell him about the error? Please tell me you didn’t because I’ll kill you if you did.”
“I called him.”
“What!”
“Relax. I didn’t leave a message. I mean, I called the number on the card. It was his private cell phone, so I froze up. I didn’t know what to say.”
“Good thing you didn’t make a fool of yourself! That man dates rich-ass girls. He’s probably used to girls who have gone to etiquette schools or whatever.”
I didn’t speak. She was right. He was used to polished girls, and I was nowhere near polished. Then again, she could be wrong. Mr. Rich from the deli didn’t seem to care if I was polished.
“The most I know about etiquette was from my Girl Scout experiences. How am I going to pull this off?”
“By being you,” Amy said, then continued scrolling on her phone. “So I’ve been checking out your date online.”
“He’s not my date,” I said.
“Well, he’s my computer screensaver. He’s that cute.”
“Eww…Amy! What is wrong with you? Maybe you should go to this ball.”
“Maybe. But I’m not as elegant as you, Sara, and I couldn’t pull it off.”
Amy, with all her confidence and assertiveness, had a way of putting herself down that I didn’t really like. But everyone had their faults and that was hers.
“You know that’s not true, Amy,” I said, turning to hug her. “If you went to the ball, you’d knock the pants off Nick Saunders, so yes, maybe you shouldn’t go.”
Amy smiled. “He’s really cute. Better than you’d ever imagine. Brown, sexy eyes that can see through you. Strong and powerful, but also very arrogant.”
“Sounds like your guy.” I was being sarcastic, but I was still laughing. I had no interest in getting to know him anymore, but my remarks opened up the flood gates for Amy. She began to recount every detail she read online about Nick Saunders. I heard about his business shrewdness, his playboy hobby, his million girlfriends, his favorite food, his workout regimen, and other countless details she remembered.
“He sounds like God sent him as a gift to women,” I said dryly when she finally ran out of breath.