"The time has come," I say dramatically, folding my hands on the table. "And you are not allowed to leave."
Spencer smiles and puts his hands up in surrender.
"I'm practically glued to my seat."
"Good," I nod my head slightly.
"Without further adieu," Kairah returns to the table. "Let them eat pie."
She places three huge pieces of pie on the table in front of us. It's surprisingly busy tonight, so she ordered the pie from the counter instead of from Amanda.
"Okay, close your eyes," I tell Spencer.
"Why?" He grins.
"You must mentally prepare for an experience such as this."
He closes his eyes dramatically and acts like he's meditating.
"Okay. You are ready," I tell him after a few seconds.
He takes a bite of the pie and looks completely astonished.
"You weren't kidding," he smiles widely.
Why must his smile be so perfect?
"I never joke about pie," I can't help but smile back. "Except when I joke about her being my whore."
"You did what?" Kairah raises an eyebrow.
"Last week," I laugh. "Why do you think I came home with an entire pie? I told Amanda that I have needs and pie is my whore."
"Sometimes I think I was adopted," she sighs.
"Yeah that's definitely possible," I stare at her eyes that are the exact same shade of light-green as mine.
"You know what I mean," she rolls her eyes.
"We aren't that different," I shake my head. "You just have more of a bad attitude."
When I turn to look at Spencer, he looks very uncomfortable.
"We do this all the time," I brush it off. "Our parents used to say that our brains had to fight to be different, otherwise we'd just merge into one person."
"That's actually really rare in twins," Spencer begin rambling. "Being so much alike, that is. Only one-third of all twins are considered to be identical, and the term identical actually refers to the process rather than the siblings. Identical twins only happen when the egg divides for some reason and two embryos are formed. The actual term is monozygotic, mono for one and zygote for fertilized egg. Many assume that because you share the same DNA and you look almost exactly alike, that you share all of the same interests and even thought processes. Most twins, even identical ones, are very different in their interests and mindsets and many don't share that 'connection' that some refer to."
"Well, that is certainly true," I nod my head.
"We have some very different interests," Kairah adds.
"That's an understatement," I scoff.
"Kairhyn," she says bitterly.
"I don't mean that particular interest," I roll my eyes. "I thought we were beyond this already. I like cheerleading and ballet and pink, you like doing absolutely no physical activity and black."
"I do not like black," she raises a finger. "I love black."
"We can agree on pie, though," I say to Spencer. "And plenty of other things."
It's quiet for a minute while we eat our pie.
"So tell me about Emma," Spencer speaks up.
"Emma," I repeat, "Emma is a handful. She's three and thinks she rules the world."
"She can be very bossy," Kairah chimes in.
"She calls us Princess Jasmine," I smirk. "I guess there's a resemblance."
"Princess Jasmine?" He questions.
"You don't know who Princess Jasmine is?" Kairah's mouth falls open.
"I can't say that I do."
"Well, one day we'll have to educate you," I joke. "But, yeah, Ems is a great kid."
"Maybe you can meet her one day," Kairah throws out.
I glare at her and kick her under the table.
"That'd be great," he smiles.
And then his phone rings.
"Spencer," he answers. "Hey, Garcia. Yeah, I can be there in about 20 minutes. Okay, see you there."
The volume on his phone is pretty low, so it's impossible to hear the other side of the conversation. Still, I know he's being called back to work.
"Work?" I say before he can speak.
"Yeah," he grimaces.
"That's okay," I shrug. "It happens."
"So are you gonna be at next week's meeting?" Kairah asks.
"I hope so," he smiles. "But I might be working."
"I have an idea," she declares. "Kairhyn, why don't you give him your number so that he can shoot you a text if he's not gonna make it next week? Ya know, so we know how long Emma will be with Lizzie."
I shoot her a look that ought to send her directly to hell.
"Yeah, that's a great idea," Spencer says. "I'm sure it's hard for the sitter to not know when you're going to pick her up."
"Oh, yeah," I feign enthusiasm, "that actually is a good idea."
I pull a pen out of my purse and write my number down on a napkin with my name above it in plain lettering, which I'm sure Kairah will complain about later, and hand it to him. He pulls out his wallet and slips the napkin inside, then pulls out another $50.
"No," I say. "It's on us tonight."
He just smiles back at me as he lays the bill on the table and picks up his sweater.
"Goodnight, ladies. Hopefully I'll see you next week."
"Goodnight," Kairah and I say in unison.
"He said 'hopefully,'" Kairah says once the door has closed with him on the other side.
"He was being polite," I roll my eyes and stare at my plate as I feel my skin turning red.
"No, he was not," she laughs. "You should ask him out."
"I am not going to ask him out," my mouth falls open. "Inviting him here was bad enough."
"Well you can't wait for him to ask you," she laughs. "That boy is oblivious."
"Not as oblivious as you would think," Amanda chimes in.
"What do you mean?" I ask as the humiliation continues to consume my body.
"He left you his number, if you had been paying attention," she grins wickedly.
"No he did not," I cover my face.
"What!? Where?" Kairah says at the same time.
"The napkin that's sitting directly in front of you," she says looking at me. "And directly beside you," she says looking at Kairah.
We both look to the aforementioned spot and upon seeing the napkin with his number scrawled out in neat, legible numbers, I swear I will burst into flames at any second.
"Well, take it," Amanda throws it at me.
"What do I do with it?" I squeal.
"Use it," she laughs hysterically.
"What is wrong with you?" Kairah laughs as well. "You do not typically react like this to guys."
"It's been a long time," I cover my face again.
"It probably has for him, too," she suggests, "I mean, he agreed to come here multiple times, and it's not for the food. No offense, Amanda."
"Oh honey, you couldn't pay me to eat here," she slaps Kairah on the shoulder. "Another round of coffee or are you girls ready to call it a night?"
"As much as I could use another cup of coffee, I better go pick Emma up," I sigh.
"And you have to go message Spencer," Kairah mumbles.
"I am not going to message him," I shake my head furiously as we head to the door. "At least not tonight."
"You better not wait for him to message you first," she elbows me.
"Why not?" I protest.
"Because he wants you to message him first."
"How do you know? I gave him my number first."
"And the fact that he gave you his means he wants you to message him. He's probably not sure if you really like him or not, and by you messaging first, he'll take it as a positive indication."
"You're making that up," I scoff.
"You'll never know if I'm making it up or not if you don't mestage him."
I try to ignore her the rest of the way to Lizzie's house.
"Sorry I'm late," I tell her when she comes to the door.
"No problem," she smiles. "We had tons of fun. So much, in fact, that it put her to sleep."
"Oh, good," I smile as she let's me inside.
"Hewwo Ai-ai," Lizzie's daughter Gabrielle greets me.
"Hello, Ellie," I give her the high-five that she's waiting for.
Gabrielle is 4 and is on the lower-end of the Autism spectrum; she has mild Pervasive Developmental Disorder.
"I pay spawkle with M-ma!" She yells.
"Shh, Ellie," Lizzie tells her. "You'll wake Brandon."
I tiptoe into the room where Brandon, Lizzie's two year old son, and Emma are sleeping. I pick her up carefully, thank Lizzie, and carry her to the car. Thankfully, I manage to put her in her car seat without waking her. Kairah and I stay silent on the way home; Emma is a fairly light sleeper, and talking almost always wakes her up. When we get home, I tuck her into bed and then head to the kitchen to make myself some coffee.
"Did you do it yet?" Kairah asks from the couch.
"And by 'it' you mean what?" I raise an eyebrow as I pour myself a cup.
"Message Spencer," she smiles wickedly.
"No, I have not," I glare. "And I'm not going to."
I sit down at the table and open my textbook. I still have a few pages to read before the test on this week's chapter.
"Don't pretend to read," she gets up and sits at the table with me.
"Go to bed, Kairah," I roll my eyes.
"You're really not going to message him?" She sighs.
"No," I huff. "I'm not going to message him."
"Fine," she grumbles as she gets up from the table. "I think you'll regret it, though."
I roll my eyes again to make sure she gets the point. I wait until I hear her door close and I slowly pull out my phone. I wait a couple extra minutes just to be safe, and then I pull out the napkin that has Spencer's number on it. I take a deep breath, type in my passcode, and open my messages. I tap compose, take another deep breath, and enter the ten digit number slowly, double checking that I didn't enter any of the numbers incorrectly - and then I triple check. After the fourth time of comparing the numbers, I decide that it's safe. I begin typing.
Hey, Spencer. I just wanted to thank you again for dinner tonight and last Tuesday :)
I decide to save his number in my contacts, so I type in his name and add a smiley face emoji. I stare at my phone for a few minutes, but he doesn't respond. After making sure yet again that the number is correct, I chalk it up to him being busy and finish the last couple pages of the chapter. I rinse my now empty mug out and load it into the dishwasher, along with all of the other dishes that are piled up in the sink. I squirt some detergent into the reservoir and turn it on. I allow myself five extra minutes in the shower, and once my time is up I get dressed and brush my teeth.
I peek into Emma's room just to make sure everything is okay and then I go into my room and get in bed. I'm just getting settled beneath the sheets when I hear my phone tweet.
Spencer: Kairhyn?
Yeeah, sorry, it's me lol
Spencer: No worries, the number you gave me just doesn't match the one on the screen.
Oh, sorry...I must have switched a couple of the numbers around.
I'm really glad he can't see me right now, because I know my face is bright red. I usually do pretty well when writing down sequences of numbers that I'm familiar with or have memorized, but sometimes I still mix them up. Occasionally I can just blame transposition, but when the numbers aren't directly beside each other, I have no excuse.
Spencer: Transposition is actually very common with people who work with a lot of numbers or who type at fast speeds.
At least I can blame transposition this time.
lol yeah, i'm a secretary so trapnsition happens to me all the time.
Spencer: Where do you work?
Costano, Williams, and Bender.
Spencer: Wow, they're pretty popular in the area.
what, no stastitic on how many cases they've won or how many clients they've represented?
Spencer: Would you like one?
lay it on me.
Spencer: Costano represents 85.435% of all the firm's clients and has won 96.738% of all the cases that he's presented in court.
that's incredible.
Spencer: It is pretty impressive. That's one of the highest success rates in the area.
i meant that you have all that memorized.
Spencer: I read an article about him in the newspaper.
Spencer: Why are you up so late?
i've been studying, but i didn't realize how late it is.
why are you up so late?
Spencer: I'm at work. A coworker went for coffee so I'm waiting for her to get back.
Her? A female is bringing him coffee? That shouldn't bother me. We're just friends. He can have other female friends. Female friends that bring him coffee. No, it doesn't bother me. Yes, yes it does.
Spencer: She just got back. Unfortunately, I have to get back to work.
yeah, i should probably go to bed since i have to work in the morning.
Spencer: Goodnight :)
goodnight :)
I set my phone down on the nightstand and set my alarm clock, then slide down into the sheets. The conversation plays over and over in my head, and even though it was painfully polite, I can't help but smile.
I wake up the next morning before my alarm goes off. My head is pounding and I can already tell I'm going to need a copious amount of coffee to make it through the day. And probably some aspirin. As much as I want to continue laying in bed, I know that will just make it worse, so I get up and head to the kitchen. I start a pot of coffee and get out a bowl and the cereal box. I set the bowl down on the table so that when I get Emma up, all I have to do is pour the milk.
I take a quick shower while I'm waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. I throw my shoes by the door and finish dressing while I walk into Emma's room to wake her up. Once she's up, I open Kairah's door and yell for her to get up. Emma eats while I do my makeup and then I get her dressed and pack her toys. This time it's Kairah that's running late, but we make it out the door in just enough time that I can drop Emma off and still make it to work without being late.
"Good morning, Kairhyn," Mr. Costano greets me when I step off the elevator.
"Good morning," I nod as I walk to my desk. "You're here early."
"That's because I wanted to run something by you," he says leaning on the counter top in front of my desk.
"Yes?"
"My brother is coming into town tomorrow," he hesitates. "He's not very familiar with the area."
"That's nice," I feign a smile.
Not this again.
"I was wondering if you could maybe give him a little tour when you get off tomorrow."
Yep. This again.
"That is a really great idea, Mr. Costano, but I'm not going to be able to do that," I try to give him a convincing smile. "I have to pick Emma up at a certain time and I have a lot of studying to do."
"Oh, yeah, of course," he nods. "Thanks anyway."
"No problem," I mumble as he walks into his office.
Ever since I started working here, his brother Anthony has been trying to get to go on a date with him. He lives in Maryland but he comes here at least every two months. Everytime, Mr. Costano asks me to be his tour guide as if he's never been here before. It's not that he's not an attractive guy, but he's also desperate. He calls me ever so often and leaves me really long voicemails, he tries to send me instant messages through my old screen name; I only know that because I still use the email address and I had my IM's converted into emails. Usually when he's in town, he has flowers sent either to the office or sometimes to my home. If he wasn't actually a really nice guy, I would probably have him arrested.
The day passes by very slowly, and I don't hear anything else from Spencer. Maybe I shouldn't have messaged him. Maybe the politeness was too much for him and it made him not interested anymore. Or maybe he has a date planned with his coffee friend. His ooh-la-latte girl. No. This is ridiculous. I've even given her a nickname now and I don't even know her. She could really just be a coworker and nothing more.
I barely notice when Mr. Costano leaves and I accidentally stay an extra 15 minutes due to being stuck in my own thoughts. I quickly grab my purse and run to the elevator. I'm late to pick Emma up and Lizzie has plans tonight.
Just as I walk in the door and Emma pushes past me to get to her room, I hear my phone tweet. I don't have time to check it, so I just throw my purse down and collapse on the couch beside Kairah.
"Long day?" She asks.
"Very," I sigh. "Anthony is coming to town."
"Oh no," she laughs.
"Are you watching the news?" I ask, looking at the TV.
"I have to find an 'interesting' story to talk about in class," she rolls her eyes. "It seems really pointless to me."
"In National News," the woman on the local news is saying. "8 year old Samantha Billings was abducted from her home in Wichita last night. Her parents Troy and Karen Billings reported her missing after going into her bedroom to wake her up for school. The window in her bedroom was left open. Federal authorities have been called in to assist the Wichita police in finding Samantha. They now believe her disappearance is linked with the abductions of at least six other children in neighboring states."
"Oh my God, that's horrible," Kairah shakes her head.
"We will now hear from the FBI's Special Agent Hotchner," the reporter says.
The man is standing in front of the girl's house. Her parents are slightly behind him. He begins speaking, but I don't hear a word that he's saying. At the corner of the screen, I see a man with curly hair who is wearing a blue shirt with a Navy sweater over it. I can only see him from behind, but I just know.
"Kairah, is that Spencer?" I point to the corner of the screen.
As we're both staring, the man that was speaking steps away from the reporters and guides the girl's parents into their house.
"Sir, sir!" The reporters begin to flock to the curly headed man that is no longer in the corner of the screen, but now in the dead center. "Agent! What is being to done to locate these missing children?"
He turns his head just enough for the cameras to capture his profile. It can't be.
"No comment," he says and joins a very attractive blonde woman who is walking into the house.
"Oh my God," Kairah's mouth falls open. "No way."
"Yeah," I manage to utter, "oh my God."