Instead of calling an Uber, I decided to walk back to Oregon Hill. The night air was cool, and there weren’t any clouds. I was a brisk walker, and the sound of my sneakers hitting the sidewalk had a hypnotic quality. An almost full moon hung heavy in the sky, and despite partygoers stumbling out of the nightclubs and restaurants on Grace Street, I felt alone with my thoughts.
“Let’s see, the hottest man I’ve ever met in my life is a famous singer, and he also is my boss.” I whispered. “Plus, my track record with love is less than stellar.” My thoughts immediately went to the unopened text messages Ricardo had sent me. I fished my personal phone out of my back pocket and stopped in my tracks, debating whether I should open them.
“f**k it. It must be important if he's blowing up my phone l
