Satisfied with that, I drive back home, not surprised to see that no one else is there when I arrive.
I make my way upstairs, wash my face, and change into comfortable sweats and a T-shirt that says: Mondays can suck it. Just as I sit in the chair in the corner of my bedroom where I can sit and watch Puget Sound in the distance, Stella walks into the room with two glasses of wine and concern in her gorgeous blue eyes.
“Hey. I didn’t know you were home.”
“Just got here about fifteen minutes ago,” she says, passing me a glass.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Have you been online at all?”
“Uh, no. I turned off my phone. Why?”
Without another word, Stella sets her glass aside and opens her phone. After a few taps on the screen, she hands it to me.
“Just look.”
Vaughn. He’s grinning and has his arm slung around the waist of a gorgeous woman with a mane of curly, black hair. She’s looking at him with adoration.
“Okay.”
“It was taken tonight.”
My stomach jitters. Tonight? So, when I didn’t show up, he found the first willing tart to go out with?
“It’s a free world,” I reply and pass the phone back to her.
“Yeah, but you said you were having dinner with him tonight.”
“I canceled.”
Stella drinks her wine. “Why?”
I stand and close my door in case one of the other roomies comes home. Then, I return to my chair and my wine.
“Because he showed up at my office today and totally frustrated me. Sexually. Like, he moved in all sexy-like but wouldn’t let me come and then said he’d finish things later.”
“Ew.” She scrunches up her nose. “Why do guys think that’s hot? It’s not hot at all.”
“Right? Exactly! It pissed me off, so I didn’t go over for dinner.”
“And now he’s being a child about it,” she finishes for me.
“That’s the way I see it. I did go out for dinner, though. Adam Carter asked me to go, and I went.”
“Adam Carter, the actor?”
“Yeah. It was literally just dinner, Stel. He’s really nice, but there’s no spark there. I guess I made a new friend today.”
“Well, aren’t you the popular one?”
“It’s weird.” I shrug.
“It’s not weird at all. You’re a hot, successful woman. Why wouldn’t celebrities trip over themselves to be with you?”
“You’re good for my ego.”
She smirks and pulls chocolate out of her pocket. “Wanna share?”
“I’m not dead, Stella. Of course, I want to share.”
She breaks the bar in half and passes me a piece.
“Are you going to turn your phone back on?”
“Tomorrow. If my parents need to reach me, they’ll call you when they can’t get through on my phone.”
“Fair enough.”
“Here’s a question for you. I was thinking about this earlier today while taking Adam’s measurements—that’s how we met.”
“I’m in the wrong business. Okay, shoot.”
“Why do women always like the bad guys? Like, Adam always plays the villain in movies, and I think he’s so handsome. In real life, he’s a sweetheart.”
“Is that why you only want to be friends? Because he’s a sweetheart?”
“No.” I frown and chew on the last bite of candy. “No, that can’t be why.”
“Vaughn’s the bad boy in this scenario, and he’s the one you’re sexually attracted to. It’s an interesting situation.”
“There’s no situation. I’m not seeing him again. I don’t play stupid games like that. I mean, yeah, he’s ridiculously sexy, but what he did today was a dick move.”
“Or a lack of one,” she says with a wink, and we dissolve into giggles.
“You’re so clever. The point is, that’s not sexy. He lost all his sexy points in my office today. And Adam’s nice, but there’s no chemistry. So, I’ll just go back to my boring life.”
“You get to put your hands all over sexy movie stars, honey. Your life is anything but boring.”
I laugh and gulp the last of my wine. “It really is a killer job, right? I mean, I was all up in Adam’s business today. The man is hung.”
“Oh, my God! How do you know that?”
“Because I have to measure the inseam. Here, I’ll show you. Stand up.”
She does as I say, and I nudge her legs apart and crouch before her.
“So, I start with the tape measure in the crotch.”
“Holy shit.”
“And pull it down the leg to the top of the foot. So my hand is all up in their business.”
“Ahem.”
Without moving away, both of our heads turn to the doorway where Drew and Erin are standing, watching. I didn’t even hear them open the door.
“If you weren’t related to me, this might be hot,” Drew says.
Erin snorts.
“I’m showing her how I measure an inseam.”
“Sure. We’ll go with that.” Drew winks. “We’re watching some lame-ass chick flick downstairs. Come down with us.”
“It’s not lame,” Erin says as she follows him down the hallway to the stairs. “It’s my turn to pick, and I’m not going to watch things getting blown up for two hours.”