“I’m just having some fun, Sofia. I swear.”
She lets out a sigh. “I’m not blind. I see how much he makes you smile. But I’m worried you’ll fall for him. From what Bren tells me, he doesn’t really do the girlfriend thing. Bren doesn’t think he’s ever been in love. And I’m afraid you will fall for him and not have it reciprocated.”
I understand where Sofia’s concern is coming from. If Ileana picked me up from hell a year ago, Sofia was on my other side, helping her with the weight. Ileana and Sofia are like twin pillars that propped me up at the time of my life when I was crumbling, and they didn’t let me fall completely apart. So I can’t be too annoyed at Sofia’s meddling. She’s invested in me now.
“I’m not falling in love with him,” I lie. I’m growing feelings for him, sure. But I’m not in love. “What’s the harm in letting a little loose, just this once in my life?”
Sofia takes me into her arms for a hug. “You know I just care about you and would hate to see you hurt, right?”
“I know. And I won’t be hurt. I promise.”
She smiles at me and stands again to look through the dress racks.
“How are things with you and Bren?” I ask, turning the conversation away from me.
“Amazing. He’s growing into this amazing father, and it only makes him all the hotter.”
She laughs, and I join her.
“It’s a little gross, to be honest, that you two can’t keep your paws off each other.”
“We’re making up for lost time,” she says with an enormous grin as she pulls a dress off the rack and holds it up for me to see. “I think this is the one for you.”
My mouth falls open. “You’re insane! I can’t wear that in public.”
“Oh yes, you can. This is the dress. Karl won’t be able to keep his eyes off you . . . or his hands.”
Somehow, Sofia, this lovely friend I think of as an older sister, convinces me to select one of the most scandalous pieces on the rack.
The rest of the afternoon, we’re pampered with massages and champagne, and then the real work begins.
Sofia’s beauty team works on me too, and I won’t lie: the professional makeup and hair look spectacular. After three grueling hours of work, Sofia and I stand in front of the mirror.
I take a deep breath. “This ‘rock-star girlfriend’ enough?” I ask her, more than a little nervous.
She shakes her head, then her smile grows. “No. Not rock. That dress is metal as fuck.”
28
KARL
The guys and I are all waiting for the women to grace us with their presence. Estheticians showed up earlier and whisked them away to be pampered, scrubbed, buffed, polished, or whatever it is women do. I don’t know. I’m glad Sofia thought to set all this up for Lola too, because I’d have no idea what to do with all this.
Fritz hands me a small tumbler with just one finger of whiskey, and I thank him with a tip of my chin as I take it and toss it back. I’m not up for an individual award, and yet I’m nervous—which is unlike me. I wonder if having Lola in the audience has something to do with that. Her approval means something to me, I decide. What thatsomethingis, I have yet to figure out.
Bren is leaning back on a brown leather chair, swirling his own drink, a cigar in his hand.
“That was a good interview,” Bren says, looking at me. Both Fritz and Adrian turn to look at me too.
“I didn’t know it was out already,” I say truthfully.
Bren nods. “It came out this morning. All that shit she said true?” Bren asks.
I swallow hard. God, I hope so. But to Bren, I lie. “Yeah. It’s all true. I meant it, Bren. There have been no parties since before the move. And there won’t be any more unless it’s with the band, like tonight and New Year’s.”
Bren nods approvingly and blows a ring in front of his face. His smile is barely there, but all the same, the unease about the security of my place in the band starts to dissipate like the smoke in front of his face.
“She’s a good kid,” Adrian chimes in with regard to Lola.