“Maybe sooner because I can’t wait,” I giggle in return. As he wanders away, the rest turn to me with wide eyes and gaping expressions. I’m not sure who starts cooing first, but they all join in—a teasing chorus. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Grady hesitating at the sound before heading to The Beast anyway.

“Oh, stop,” I tell them, blushing. “It’s nothing. Just dinner. We’re friends.”

“Well then, can we come?” Roy asks.

“I’ll bring a Chardonnay,” Christie teases.

“I’ve got the love potion,” Wren adds.

“Aw, how sweet, but no,” I laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you all so much homework you’ll be too busy to think about me and Grady Tripp.”

They groan and disperse quickly, as if worried I might divvy out tasks right then and there.

The day creeps by slowly. I make phone calls, arranging the billboard designs with Marigold, and construction of the gator observation deck with Peter Pike. The boys and I rearrange the cigarettes behind the counter between taking care of a slow trickle of customers, more than usual but still not enough to make up for all I’ve spent on upgrades. It’s a marathon, not a race, I tell myself.

Excited for my date with Grady, I leave earlier than usual, desperate for some me-time. I spend time with the cats, telling them and all my plants about my plans for the evening. I put on music—at first heart-pounding rap to match my excitement, but already too hyped, I soon switch it to something more low-key. The calming sounds of Norah Jones fill the house as I deliberate on my outfit. With four possibilities strewn across my bed, I take a long bath, towel-dry my hair, put on lotion and light perfume, and even paint my nails a soft pink. First dates don’t happen very often, at least not for me. Why not make it the celebration it is?

I finally decide on a silky light pink cami with lacy edges, a cute jean skirt, white sneakers, and my fuzzy pink sweater, in case I get chilly. Casual meets sexy. I top it off with a dangly gold chain with a peony charm and little gold hoop earrings. I wear my hair down and wavy and put on a touch more makeup than usual.

I stand at the mirror by the front door and ask the cats how I look. Hershey meows, Triscuit curls around my legs, and Sunkist narrows her eyes like she’s annoyed at me for disturbing her cat nap. Even so, I take it all to mean I’m not too shabby.

I take a breath, nerves rising again. I worry this might be another ride on Grady’s guilt train, with him leaving me stranded at the end.