13
Emma
When I tell Kendall about my upcoming date, she all but chokes on her coffee. “You what?”
“I’m meeting a hedge fund manager for dinner tonight,” I say, pouring a liberal amount of milk into my own cup of java. “So you see, I’m a cat lady no more.”
“Okay, whoa. Back up a step.” She leans forward, her hazel eyes gleaming with the intensity of a shark smelling blood. “When and how did this happen?”
Grinning, I tell her the whole story, beginning with the mix-up in identity. “So yeah,” I conclude, “I have a date tonight.”
“With Marcus the hedge fund manager,” she says incredulously. “Who pretty much stalked you to your apartment and sent you cat food. And gave you s*x dreams.”
“Yep.” My grin widens. “The one and only.”
Kendall and I rarely get to see each other during the weekd
