Lei'd With Cupcakes (Cupcakes 3)

“Nope, silent so far.”

“Okay, good,” I replied. Honestly, I was happy things were quiet at work. Not only did I not want to put Carmen out, but I hated to miss out on anything. As crazy as my job was, I had actually really grown to love it. “Any other news? Heard from Amy May, Bea, or maybe Bran?”

I smiled just thinking about my hot lawyer friend and sweet, OCD Carmen hitting it off.

“He asked me out again,” Carmen replied.

They were supposed to go out a couple weeks ago, but Carmen got sick at the last minute and had to cancel. I’d been waiting for them to reschedule forever, and was about to squeal in response when the tone of her voice registered.

“Why don’t you sound happier about it?”

“I said no,” was her response, and I hung up the phone.

Seconds later, the bubbling sound of Facetime making

a call filled Cade’s childhood bedroom.

Carmen answered my call, but kept the camera pointed down, showing me only Rufus, who was snoozing on the couch.

“He’s not supposed to be on the couch,” I said automatically, then screeched, “Carmen, look at me!”

I heard her sigh before her pretty face filled my iPhone.

“Why in the hell did you say no?” I cried, and she visibly winced. “Are you nuts?”

“Yes!” Carmen shouted, then shrugged and lowered her voice. “He’s too much.”

“Too much?”

“Too hot, too successful, too sweet … too everything.” Carmen said, and even though she looked utterly forlorn, I wanted to reach through my phone and smack her upside the head. “I’m used to slackers who are underwhelming at best. I don’t know what to do with all that is Branson Braswell.”

“What? You’re too much too,” I argued. “Too sexy, too funny, too smart. Bran would be lucky to be with a woman like you, and he knows that. That’s why he asked you out.”

“I don’t know…”

“Dang, I wish I was there. You need an intervention. A girls’ night to pep you up and get your head in the right place. I’m calling reinforcements; I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait,” Carmen managed, but I had already pressed end and pushed the number to Facetime Amy May.

“How’s Hawaii?” she asked when she answered.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I asked.

Amy May pulled the short red wig off her head and replied, “Date night.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I muttered. I’d learned the hard way about Amy May and her husband Jason’s “date nights.” I’d stumbled across them at a bar one night, and mistakenly thought the raven-haired woman was someone he was having an affair with, when it was actually my best friend role playing.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Amy May said with a devilish grin.

I rolled my eyes and replied, “You spend a lot of money to get your hair that blonde, yet you’re always covering it up with wigs.”

She stuck her tongue out in reply, and I promptly changed the subject.

“We need to talk about Carmen.”

“Why? I saw her for coffee this morning, and she seemed fine.”

“She told Bran no when he asked her out on a date, says he’s too much for her.”