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A fake one

I was never going to give my phone to anyone. Anymore.

It was two days after the accident and I was bumming at home when my phone started ringing. I paused the movie, leaned over the table to grab my phone and checked the screen. Unknown caller. I hesitated. Normally I didn't answer calls like that, but after the accident, I constantly waited for a call from the mechanic.

"Hello?" I asked, hoping to hear that my Giulietta is ready and shiny and waiting for me.

"Hello, Sweetie." a deep voice sounded on the other end.

I froze. No way.

"Sweetie." he sang into the phone. "I know you're there."

God. That was creepy.

"What you're doing? It's called harassing, you know." I informed him.

There was a laugh.

"And what you're doing? It's called lying."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The deal?" he asked, his voice amused. "The part where you keep your part of it?"


"I don't have the money right now. I'm sorry. I swear I will pay you once I have some."

I heard his deep chuckle.

"I'm not talking about money, Sweetie."

I tensed.

"You're not?"


I frowned.

"Then what the hell are you talking about?"

"Meet me in Caffair in twenty."

"No way."

"You don't know where it is?"

"I do." I responded. "But I hate the smell of coffee. I would literally hurl all over you. Wait."

I paused dramatically.

"That's a very good idea, after all. I'll be there."

"No." he protested. "How about Sharon's? Do you like hot chocolate?"

Sure that I liked chocolate. But I had a feeling that after this meeting, I would start to hate it.

I couldn't afford to hate chocolate.

"And tell me, how am I going to get there without a car?" I asked.

"You will figure something out. You're a big girl."

I snorted.

"And if not, I'll come for you."

Yeeeaah. Over my dead body.

"No, thank you. I'll get there myself. I might not make it in twenty, though." I warned.

"I don't care. I'll be there in twenty."

I rolled my eyes. Asshole.

"Oh, and by the way." he said when I was about to end the call. "Every minute of you being late is going to be considered a punishment."

"Yeah, right."

I pressed the end button and threw my phone onto the couch beside me. I was half tempted to show it my middle finger, but that would be just stupid. So I didn't do it. Obviously.

After a moment of sulking, I got my ass off the couch and went to my bedroom to put on some bra. I might have forgotten about it earlier. It was Sunday, after all.

And there was no way I was going to go meet Dominic without my bra.

No. Freaking. Way.

When I could be considered decent, I grabbed my jacket and bag and headed out. I wasn't the type of a girl who spends hours in front of the mirror smudging my face with God-knows-what and brushing my hair two hundred times. Pulling my hair into a ponytail and sliding my feet into my purple converse was enough.

The nearest bus stop was about a mile from my apartment, so the walk there didn't take me much. Waiting for the next bus, however, took me twelve minutes.

By the time I arrived at Sharon's, the best confectionery in the whole city, I was seven minutes late. I've spotted Dominic the moment I stepped in. He was quite hard to miss, leaning back in his seat with his ridiculously long legs stretched out in front of him and this whole notice-me demeanour going on. He was gazing out the window when I first came in, but he looked at me when I stepped closer.

Damn. I was hoping that he wouldn't notice me so I could run away.

Now I was busted.

"Good morning." I said, taking a seat in front of him.

"Good morning?" he raised a brow. "It's like two in the afternoon."


I tried to make myself comfortable while fighting hard not to touch his legs which were still stretched in front of me and invading my space. Dominic must have noticed my squirming because he looked at me and smiled.


Edited: 12.02.2019

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