26. Zero Chill
26
Zero Chill
CARLY
To-do list—December 29
?? Catch up on sleep
?? More Spain-style sex
Kick Andrew out, then sleep some more
“ H ey.” Andrew’s voice was rough, and he propped his bristly chin on my bare shoulder, then handed me my phone. “Your phone was buzzing like crazy. I thought it might be important.”
Important? Had I missed an appointment? No, I didn’t need to take Yelena’s dress to her until Tuesday, and today wasn’t Tuesday…was it? We’d arrived home Friday evening and stayed in my apartment Saturday (hardly leaving my bed), so that made today Sunday. Unless we’d slept an extra day.
Frankly, it was hard to tell since every time I woke up, I melted again at Andrew’s dimples. Then he did the thing with his lips that made me see stars.
“What day is it?” I tapped the phone screen.
“Sunday. Around nine.” He kissed my shoulder, and I shivered.
“Mmm. Do that some more.” While I unlocked my phone, he kissed down my arm. I could get used to this.
No, I couldn’t.
Shouldn’t.
There was no way this could last. I’d do something to screw it up—whatever I’d done with Brad—or he’d get tired and move on. Like Brad had.
I checked my notifications.
“It’s just the girls’ chat. I forgot I said I’d go to brunch with them today.”
“You haven’t missed it yet, have you?” He reversed direction with his kisses, teasing me along my clavicle.
“No. But I’m not sure I want to leave this bed.”
“It is a nice bed, especially with you in it. Though brunch sounds pretty good.” His stomach rumbled.
“Do you…do you want to come with me?” Where had that come from?
He was part of last week’s Barcelona fantasy. I knew we’d said we were dating for real, but that didn’t make him a part of my everyday life. Besides, he didn’t want to come to brunch with me and my middle-aged girlfriends, did he?
Something flashed across his face, and I remembered. “Oh, no. It’s Sunday. Your family has brunch on Sundays. Never mind.”
“No.” He squeezed my shoulder. “If you want me at the Goddess Gang’s brunch, I’d be honored to go.” He nodded as if making a resolution. Then his mouth quirked up in another dimple-revealing grin. “And, as I recall, your friends liked me. A lot.”
Gently, I shoved him. “So full of yourself.”
“It’s the truth. Did they, or did they not, encourage you to come to my hotel room in Monterey?”
“Ugh, they did.” They’d practically forced me to his door. “But…”
“But?” His smile faltered. “But you’re not ready to introduce me as more than a hookup? As someone you’re seeing?”
He was right. I was being unfair. I’d told him I’d give us a chance. So I said, “Come with me. Meet the girls. Again.”
A grin spread over his face. “Excellent.”
I ’d texted ahead to warn them about my guest, but my friends had zero chill.
“Andrew!” A smug, Cheshire-cat smile spread over Lucie’s face. “So glad you joined us.” Hugging me, she didn’t lower her voice at all. “Carly, you look very satisfied.”
“Cut it out, Lucie. You’re making them self-conscious.” After embracing me, Savannah held out her hand to Andrew. “I’m Savannah. That’s Lucie, and the redhead is Tessa. Nice to see you again.”
“You two are giving me a toothache. Those blushes, I swear.” Tessa shook Andrew’s hand, then hugged me. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving, and the dumplings are to die for.”
The hostess led us to a large round table, where the scents of ginger and roasted meat and fish made my mouth water. Savannah hip-checked Lucie away from the seat next to Andrew, so she settled for the seat next to me.
She smirked as I sat gingerly on the padded chair. “Sore?”
“Don’t make me regret coming to brunch,” I muttered. “I was engaged in much more pleasant activities than being harassed by you.”
“I can only imagine.” She waggled her eyebrows. “So this”—she kept her voice low and cut her eyes to Andrew, who leaned over to talk to Savannah—“seems to have progressed from your arrangement to something else.”
“I’m not sure exactly what to call it yet,” I murmured. “We’re still figuring it out.”
“Looks like you’re enjoying the figuring-it-out bit.”
“It’s got its perks.” I shifted in my chair until the ache eased.
“I can only imagine.” She smirked.
My phone buzzed in my skirt pocket, but I ignored it. I was with all my favorite people. Who’d be calling me?
As the waiter wheeled the cart to our table and filled our plates, my phone buzzed again. The spam caller was persistent.
After the waiter left, I looked around the table at my friends. “Did everyone have a nice Christmas?”
“Ugh, don’t ask. The holidays with my folks are always painful,” Lucie said. “My dad got out his Pulitzer medal for the nine millionth time and asked when I was going to write something Pulitzer-worthy. What about you, Tessa?”
“I spent it alone at home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Savannah asked. “I’d have invited you to our place.”
“Alone at home is exactly the way I like it. I stayed in my sweatpants and cuddled with my cats. They don’t spout conspiracy theories or talk about the best ways to tell edible mushrooms from poisonous ones.”
We all blinked at her.
“Except Anita. She has some pretty radical theories about crows.” She looked around the table. “Kidding.”
Andrew guffawed.
I leaned around him. “Savannah, were your kids home for Christmas?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “But they left yesterday. And now…” She glanced at Andrew.
“Want me to go away for a minute while you tell them something secret?” Andrew asked.
“No, it’s fine. You’re one of us now.”
A slow smile spread over his face, and he squeezed my knee under the table.
Savannah said, “Anyway, things aren’t good between me and Jason. It’s like we were performing for the kids, and now we’re…not.”
“Not good how?” Lucie asked, her voice sharp.
“It’s not like that. He’s not abusive. Not physically.”
“Is he abusive in other ways?” I asked.
She winced. “He can be critical. It’s nothing that isn’t true though.” She ran a hand over her stomach, then pushed her plate away.
I knew that move. “Did he say something about your size? Because you’re beautiful just the way you are. You know that, right?”
“I…” She glanced at me. “I’m not beautiful. Not like you three.”
“You are,” Tessa and Lucie said at the same time.
“They’re right,” Andrew said. “You’re gorgeous. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see it.”
“Thank you. You’re sweet.” She laid a hand on his forearm.
“Don’t put up with his bullshit,” Lucie warned her. “Do what Carly did. Dump his ass.”
“But I…I don’t know. How did you know to leave your ex, Carly?”
I chuckled darkly. “His girlfriend showed up at my door asking when I was moving out.”
“No!” Andrew stared at me. “Really?”
“Really.”
His expression was thunderous. “If I’d known, I’d have?—”
“It’s fine. It turned out fine. Especially now Hayley’s—” But that wasn’t my secret to tell. “I’m happier.” I set my hand over his, which still rested on my knee. “Anyway, Savannah, maybe don’t wait as long as I did. If you think you can work it out, that’s okay, too. Only you can decide what’s right for you.”
“If you ever need somewhere to stay, I’ve got plenty of room at my place,” Tessa said.
“Thanks, hon.” Savannah sniffed and blotted her nose with her napkin. “Enough sad stuff. Those shrimp dumplings are to die for. I’ve never tasted anything like them in Sacramento.”
“Have you tried the sesame rice balls?” Tessa asked. “They’re like heaven in your mouth.”
“That’s what she said,” Lucie mumbled.
“I”—Savannah rubbed her stomach again—“not yet. I’ll try one when the cart comes by.”
When my phone buzzed, I set down my chopsticks and pulled out my phone. “I swear, these spam callers…” But it wasn’t a spam caller. It was a text from Helen Choi.
Unknown: Hi Carly, it’s Helen Choi. I need a red-carpet style for my premiere in February, and I’d like a consult
Unknown: Are you available this week for a video call?
Unknown: And I may have given your number to a couple of friends. I hope that’s OK
The phone wobbled in my numb fingertips.
“Is everything all right?” Andrew asked.
“Yes, I…I think so? It’s Helen.”
When he grinned, his dimples dented his cheeks adorably. “I knew she’d call.”
“You scored a new client at the wedding?” Lucie asked.
I blinked at my phone to confirm I hadn’t imagined it. “I think I did.”
Andrew set down his chopsticks. “It’s not just any client. It’s Helen Choi. The actress.”
My friends gasped, then peppered me with a dozen questions at once.
“Hayley’s her friend,” I protested. “She’s being nice.”
Andrew said, “Hollywood stars don’t have time for nice. Your style impressed her.”
After struggling for so long, I couldn't believe it. “Possibly.”
“That’s amazing! I’m sure it’ll go great.” Savannah’s smile was pure confidence.
Lucie said, “She’ll recommend you to ten friends. It’s award season.”
“Maybe.” I wasn’t nearly as confident. I was much surer of my ability to style middle-aged women than Hollywood stars. Why would gorgeous, successful young women like Helen Choi want to be styled by someone a loser like Brad Winner had rejected?
It had to be a mistake.
Just like whatever this was with Andrew. Pretty soon, he’d come to his senses too.