Maybe

10

Miranda Rodriguez.

MIRANDA DOESN’T LIKE the way the limo driver keeps looking into his mirror, staring at her. It’s nearly midnight, the road shiny, slick with rain. It wouldn’t do to have an accident. She presses the button on the armrest and holds it while the glass between her and the driver goes up. She continues holding the button until the thick material of the divider rises to block his view completely. She doesn’t want to be rude, but he seems to know what she’s up to, and he’s made her uncomfortable.

She takes this opportunity to call her new best friend, who says, “Miranda! Hi!”

“Did I wake you?”

“No, of course not! I’m a night owl. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting Donovan Creed tonight.”

“Yes.”

“You…knew?”

She laughs. “How could I possibly know?”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“It was my first thought why you might call me this late.”

“He’s flying me to Louisville on a private jet.”

“And you’re excited.”

“Yes.”

Her friend’s voice is warm. “You like him,” she says.

“I do, Rose. A lot.”

“That’s good. I’m so happy you do.” Rose pauses, then adds, “It’s late. Are you tired?”

“I’ll sleep on the jet.”

The two friends are quiet for a moment.

Miranda says, “I’m excited and scared at the same time.”

“Enjoy the feeling. And remember everything we talked about.”

“I will. And thank you so much for everything!”

“It’s an exciting time for both of us,” Rose says.

Three hours later, Miranda knocks on Creed’s hotel room door.