Page 51 of By A Thread

“Leg warmers are great. And it’s pop and hip-hop and R&B. Kind of like dirty dancing for fitness.”

“Yaaaaas!” Ruth clapped her hands. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Wine after,” Gola decided.

“Our treat,” Ruth said before I could remind them of my poorness.

“One glass. I have to finish up a pitch on a freelance gig.” One that would hopefully net me a few hundred dollars.

“Deal,” Ruth said.

My lovely new phone made an angelic harp noise. My signal to hit the road. “Shit. I have to go.” I gathered my new coat, my old backpack, and the last few bites of fried rice. “Later, ladies.”

“You look great,” Gola called after me.

I raised a hand in the air and plowed my way toward the front of the building.

I was delighted to find Nelson waiting for me at the curb.

“Mind if I sit up front?” I asked him.

“Not at all,” he said, opening the door for me.

We chitchatted on the drive. Nelson had a wife, two daughters, and three granddaughters. He spent his weekends at soccer games and science fairs.

The traffic gods smiled upon us. We were fifteen minutes early. I hopped out in front of a three-story brownstone and jogged up the stairs, my fancy new coat swirling around me nicely like the cape of a superhero.

Had I done a better job with my hair and makeup this morning, I’d feel almost stylish.

Stylish, in control, and basically killing it at my new job.

I pressed the buzzer and smugly waited to succeed.

* * *

“Nelson, we have a problem,”I said, pulling the door shut and riffling through my bag for my phone.

“I notice you returned without any four-legged passengers,” he mused.

“There was a mix-up with the date. The dogs are at some fancy show in Connecticut.”

“I hate when that happens,” he said.

I found my phone and fired off a text to Linus.

Me: There’s a problem.

Linus: Do not bother me with problems. Dazzle me with solutions.

Me: This is a big one.

Linus: I’m deadly serious. I’m up to my well-groomed eyebrows in disasters. How can three models have pinkeye at the same time? Never mind. Don’t answer. Just solve the problem or don’t bother coming back.

I was pretty sure he was going to regret that one. I could solve problems. But the solutions might not be up to his standards.

Me: Fine. The photo shoot. What’s the vibe?

Linus: Grey Gardens. Only less depressing and with more fashion. Now leave me alone.