Chose The Wrong Guy, Gave Him The Wrong Finger - Plot & Excerpts
“When I saw him this morning, I told Frank to tell you not to worry,” I said, certain he had given her that reassurance. “Well, that’s just very easy for a man to say, isn’t it?” she returned. And, honestly, she did have a point. “I couldn’t believe him, I needed to hear it from you!” “Well, now you are worried,” I said, trying to calm her. “No need. We’ll get it done.” “So you’ll come?” A tremor of apprehension skittered across my chest but I tried to ignore it. Always bad policy, by the way. “Yes, I’ll be there in a couple of hours.” “And plan to stay for supper,” she added. “I’m having some folks over. Just casual, of course. Nice beginning-of-summer party.” I knew she loved those. “That’s really nice, Dottie, but I don’t want to interrupt your party. I can take the measurements very quickly and get out of your way.” “Out of my way, are you kidding, child? We could use a little infusion of your bubbly energy in the mix!” It was clear I wasn’t going to be able to get out of this gracefully, so even though I would rather have gone home and started cutting the material and watching Bravo, I asked, “Is there anything I can bring, then?”
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