I had no doubts our games would resume though.
When I opened the door I was shocked to find Daphne standing there looking at me.
“Expecting someone else?” She smiled knowingly at my crestfallen face.
“Not at all.” I stepped to the side waving her in.
“I won’t be long,” she kindly declined my offer to come in. “I wanted to stop by and ask if you’d want to go to dinner tonight. Frankie, Jen, and Cyrus are going so I was hoping…” She trailed off, biting on her bottom lip nervously and staring down at her toes—which I noticed were painted hot pink.
“You want me to save you,” I interjected.
She nodded. “Cyrus is annoying, and if it’s only the four of us it will feel like a date.”
“What time?” I asked, caving easily to the pleading look in her eyes.
“Eeeeek!” She let out a high-pitched shrill squeal and started clapping her hands. “Thank you for this!” She attacked me, wrapping her skinny arms around my neck and squeezing me with more force than I thought it was possible for her to possess.
“What time?” I repeated, a bit put off by her excitement. I wasn’t a naturally bubbly person and didn’t do well around those that were.
“Six,” she answered, releasing me from her stranglehold.
“I’ll see you then,” I told her, Brutus rubbing himself against my legs. “I can’t be out late though, my shift at Griffin’s starts at nine tonight.”
“Oh, you’re working late?” She frowned.
I nodded, reaching up to push strands of black hair from my eyes. “Night shift.”
“How—uh—” She looked around uneasily, as if she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to ask this question or not. “How’s Emery? Do you talk to him a lot?”
I couldn’t help smiling. Someone definitely had a crush on Griffin’s hottie grandson. I couldn’t blame her. Not only was Emery gorgeous, but he was a really nice and down to earth guy.
“He’s good, I guess,” I shrugged, purposely being evasive. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” she shook her red hair around her shoulders and plastered on a fake smile.
“Uh huh,” I muttered doubtfully, narrowing my eyes.
Backing away, Daphne said, “I’ll see you at six. Oh,” she stopped, “do you have a dress?”
“Why?”
“Weeeeeell,” she drew out the word, looking anywhere but at me, “I’ve only seen you in jeans and this place is a little nicer,” she bit her lip. If her goal was to make me question my decision to agree to attend the shin-dig, then she had succeeded with flying colors.
I stared at her, purposely scrunching up my face so that I appeared to be mad.
“I mean, if you don’t have a dress it’s—”
I decided to put the poor girl out of her misery. “I have a dress. I just wanted to mess with you,” I laughed.
“Oh.” She paused, appearing unsure of how to proceed. “Okay then.”
I couldn’t help but snort.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” she smiled.
Suppressing a laugh, I winked and blew her a kiss. “It’s a date.”
I closed the door before she could reply, snickering to myself. Poor Daphne didn’t know what to do with my personality. I’d have to enlighten her of the mythical and powerful ways of sarcasm.