Sunday Night, July 31st
"Dear Bella. This is your best friend, Alice. I know that you've been busy doing…well, whatever it is you've been doing. Or is it a whoever? I might know these things if you ever answered your phone or returned your calls. Anyway…we need to get together for drinks. Something. Anything. Call me, whore. It's been too long."
I press "delete" on the screen of my phone after I listen to her message. Have I really been that bad? I know I've been spending a lot of my time with Edward when we're not working, which really isn't all that much since I work days and he mostly works nights and weekends.
I still don't know what he actually does for a living. I'd like to think it's something romantic – like maybe he's a musician or an artist. But I've never seen any instruments in his apartment. And unless he painted those paintings on his walls himself, I'm assuming he's not a starving artist. Well, at least he's not starving. Our building is kind of pricey. I come to the conclusion that he's probably a bartender or something. It would make sense. He probably makes bank on tips from horny women drinking at the bar.
And now I'm fucking jealous.
Jesus, Bella. Pull it together. Neither of you have said this is anything exclusive…or anything more than what it is.
Sex.
Great sex, but just sex…
Fuck.
Why does that suddenly make me sad?
I pull up Alice's number on my phone and hit send.
Drinks and karaoke on Saturday night.
Perfect.
.
.
.
A/N
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See you all shortly!