“Good!” From a pocket inside her suit, Summer pulled a rather bent card, holding it out to Steve. “Here’s my number. Don’t wait too long, okay? I’ve got to head off now, normal life to get back to. You know how it goes.”
“Mhmm. I know. When do you expect to be home? I don’t like intruding in on busy times, and voice mail makes me feel weird. I never know what to say.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“It’s really hard to say,” Summer sighed. “My schedule is /so/ irregular. I guess the best time to catch me would be late evening.”