Two days. It’s been two days since I last saw Cilla – the longest two days of my life.
“So…do you want me to line up any more girls?” Sheryl asks as she comes into my home office with a tablet in her hands. “Or have you decided you don’t want to—”
“Forget it,” I reply.
“So…just to be clear, that’s a no?”
“What’s it sound like, Sheryl?” My mood is terrible. Sheryl does the little hair flip she does when she’s feeling insulted, and I sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. No, don’t interview any more girls. I’ll figure something else out.”
“Okay.” I can tell there’s more she wants to ask me about, business related, but it can obviously wait, and she leaves me alone and heads back downstairs.
My neck and shoulders are tight. This is the longest I’ve gone without having them worked o
