luck for the night - rl.

19. coffee and complications.

A week went by, one like the others. The guilt of cancelling work slowly faded, and I tried to act friendly to Phoebe again. I wasn't sure if I was succeeding, though. The way she looked at me, it was as if she saw right through me.

The fact that I couldn't tell her about Remington was eating me from the inside: if I told her about him, I knew I would not be able to contain myself, and tell her about Oslo too. And I was sure she would bring up her friend again, and the NDA that friend had to sign, and Drake and the hot sauce, and everything else.

So I sucked it all up, waiting for the inevitable day this would all be over: when Palaye Royale was on a plane back to the United States. Maybe then I could tell her, and we could laugh about it together. Like, 'hey, remember that one time I was so tired at work the whole time? I was travelling around the country to hang out with that famous guy you didn't like! Isn't that funny?'

But for now, I was counting down the days until I would go to London, which came closer and closer.

That specific morning, right as I was leaving for work, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I turned around, checking my outfit one last time: ribbed turtleneck underneath a blazer, my best pair of jeans and platform boots. It was pretty basic, but a smile crept up my face knowing that only Remington would figure out what I was wearing underneath all this, tonight. Spoiler alert: a black, lacey bra with matching underwear, and stay ups on my legs.

I did not know if Remington would be into it, but it made me feel very attractive and mysterious. Like I had a little secret.

I whistled on my way to the bus stop, the cold morning air hitting my skin. Nothing a cigarette couldn't fix, so I popped one in my mouth, lighted it, and waited for the bus. A few sunbeams started to peak in from behind the clouds, falling on my face.

Yes, I decided, the frost tickling my face, the sun on my cheeks, today was a good day to be a good day.

I started to feel comfortable looking Phoebe in the eyes again, for once I wasn't worried about the future, and I was going to see Remington tonight.

What could go wrong?

After a short bus ride, and smoking another cigarette outside, I entered Inner Beauty, once again right on time.

Phoebe was at the front desk. "You're early." She did not look up from the computer screen she was looking at.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, didn't you see?" Now, she looked up. "Your 9:30 cancelled, I texted you."

I dug my phone out of my pocket, which I hadn't checked all morning: I had been too busy putting together an outfit that was fancy enough to see Remington in, but plain enough for work, and packing my backpack.

"Oh, yeah, I see now," I shrugged, a smile appearing on my face. "I guess I'll have an extra long coffee break."

I made my way to the break room, put my favourite mug under the coffee machine, and pressed the button for espresso.

"Let me take off this annoying ass bag first," I muttered, taking off my backpack and putting it on the table in the middle of the room.

"You know you have to fill two hours before your next client is here, right?" Phoebe had turned around, standing in the doorframe of the room now, arms crossed in front of her chest. She seemed surprised.

"Yes, I know." I grabbed my coffee and took a sip, enjoying the subtle bitterness of the drink.

Phoebe's eyes landed on my backpack, which had way more things stuffed inside than what I usually brought for a normal day of work. "What the hell is in there?" She asked.