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“Fine,” she said at last. “But I’m driving.”

“Deal,” I said, sticking my pinky out at her.

“Not this again.”

“Yup. Gotta seal it. Come on.”

She huffed but linked her pinky with mine and booped my thumb three times.

“Am I allowed to say ‘happy birthday’? Or is that against the rules?”

Eloise let out a groaning noise. “You are allowed to say it that once and not again after that. And if you sing, you’re fired immediately.”

I snorted. Seeing her horror at me singing to her might be worth getting fired in the moment.

“Fine, fine, I won’t sing. I’ll just hum quietly to myself.” I hummed the Happy Birthday song and the look Eloise cut me was glacial.

“Gotta get back to work,” I called as I all but sprinted back to the office.

* * *

Eloise’s car was so much cleaner than mine. It was a relief she’d wanted to drive so she didn’t see how bad mine was.

I buckled up as Eloise backed out of the driveway and adjusted the air. Her car smelled like it was fresh from the dealership. I knew she got it detailed regularly, since dropping it off and picking it up was one of my tasks.

“Where are we going?” I asked after several moments of silence. Eloise had put on a pair of designer sunglasses as I pulled down the visor and shaded my eyes if I needed to.

“One of my favorite places,” she said.

“It’s in this country, I hope. I didn’t bring my passport.” Come to think of it, was my passport even current? I should probably figure that out. If I continued to work for Eloise, international travel wasn’t out of the question, which was wild.

“Yes, it’s in this country. We’re not even leaving the state.”

“Bummer,” I said.

“You said to pick where I wanted to go, and this is where I want to go.” Eloise didn’t drive with music or anything, which wasn’t a surprise. When you turned my car on, my playlist would just start blasting.

“If you won’t tell me where we’re going, can I ask why you don’t like to celebrate your birthdays? Has that always been the case, or is it a new thing?” Was she ashamed of her age? She’d brought it up a few times with me. Most of the time how old she was wasn’t something that I thought about. Sure, she was older than me, but I bet she’d been like this her whole life. Even if we’d been the same age, she would have acted more mature.

“I think it’s a childish thing to do. What’s the point? I don’t understand it. And I don’t like the reminder that one more year of my life is gone.”

Well. That was a strange way of putting it.

“I suppose,” I said, not wanting to rock the boat.

“You don’t agree,” she said as we sat at a light.

“I think birthdays are fun as hell. Sure, you have to think about getting another year older, but you get presents and there’s cake. I’ll take any excuse to have cake.”

Eloise glanced over at me from behind her sunglasses.

“You feel that way now, but come back to me when you’re getting closer to forty and tell me if you feel the same way.”

“I mean, I can’t predict the future, but I don’t think I’m going to change my mind about a day when I get to eat as much cake as I want.”

She snorted as the light turned green.

* * *