She's With Me

5

By the end of the day, the restaurant is midway through reconstruction. I want to make it as snappy as possible, because there's a lot more important things to do before the reopening.

I get my driver to pick me up and take me home. He's worked for me everytime I'm in the state. And he's been asking about Poppy every chance that he gets. Poppy has that personality that everyone loves—the kind, bubbly, sweetheart.

We're quite the opposites of each other when it comes to first glances. She's completely feminine and casual in the way she dresses, while I'm more professional and serious. I'm not the tomboy that I once was in my preteens, but I wouldn't be caught in a short skirt, dress, or short shorts. Poppy loves those little pieces of clothing, that shows off all of the valuable goods that god's given to her. Don't get me wrong, she's very elegant in the way that she pulls them off. I would never say that she looks slutty, or skimpy.

I'm more fond of jeans, blouses, and the occasional dress. I adore sweaters and pajama pants. If it was appropriate for a business woman to dress in pajamas to go to work, I wouldn't be seen in anything else.

I take a glass of wine with me onto the terrace. The night sky is so beautiful in Nashville. New York is way more noisier than here, and you wouldn't spot a single star. I enjoy the quietness, and the faint sounds of car alarms in the distance.

By the time I turn fifty, I plan for us to move to a little town where we can grow old together. I've already set my eyes on a beautiful river house in Washington, but Poppy loves the city life. Small places aren't meant for her. She loves being in a crowd with a bunch of people that she doesn't know. As for me, I'm introverted, and can barely pull off a conversation with a stranger.

I'm eating your favorite, babe.

She sends me a picture of her homemade lasagna. Damn, that looks good. I had chinese for dinner, and now I'm hungry again. I place my empty glass into the sink and head into my room to get changed into something appropriate to take a walk down the streets in.

Grabbing my keys and wallet, I place them into my pockets and head through the doors. The elevator ride is excruciatingly long, since I'm till on the thirty-fourth floor. When I exit the lobby and the early night air whips my hair back, I inhale the scent of the atmosphere, before turning down the street.

There's a bunch of chinese cuisines lined up on the streets, and even a few indian restaurants. I've been craving dairy lately, and am wondering if there's any ice cream shops nearby. If not, I'll have to give my driver a call.

Did you just 'seen' me?

I forgot to send her a response. Shit. She hates it when I take too long to message back.

Sorry. Got hungry. Getting ice cream now. What are you up to?

I watch the three dots bounce up and down, as she types. My eyes are focused on my phone screen and not in front of me as they should be. Consequently, I walk into someone, my phone pitching out of my hand and onto the sidewalk.

"Watch where you're going lady!" The man yells and storms off. I mentally lecture myself and pick up my phone. The screen's cracked! Fuck. I probably should've gotten that screen protector that the apple store's sales representative was insisting on.

I squint my eyes and try to make sense of what's on the screen, but it's shattered. Stuffing it into my pocket, I look around for any cell phone stores. It takes about ten minutes for me to spot one and relief fills my chest.