Chapter 11 #2
I give her a hug. “Yes. Not as busy as you, I’m sure.”
Shayla throws an arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “Olivia’s helping me start my own production company. She’s going to be my producer.”
I smile. “Wow. Congrats to you both.”
Harper walks over from the back table, her expression tight. Felipe waits a short distance away. “Shay, what are Owen and Nathan doing here on our girls’ night?”
“You brought a guy up here,” I say to Harper.
She ignores me in favor of staring down Shayla.
“Hello to you, too,” Shayla says, hugging her.
“Sorry, it’s just—”
“Owen doesn’t count,” Shay says, like husbands are background.
That could be the case since Owen’s entire attention tends to stay on Shay, but he’s also Harper’s brother, which means she can’t hang with her new muscled guy without some annoying big-brother interference.
“And Nathan was in the city for some kind of finance meeting, so Owen brought him along.”
My brows scrunch together in confusion. “A finance meeting on a Saturday?”
Shay waves airily. “One of those networking things. I’m sure he’ll fill you in.”
Harper turns to Olivia. “Sorry, I was distracted. Great to see you! Love your purse. The beads on the burlap really pop. Did you make it yourself?” Before Olivia can respond, Felipe joins us and takes a picture of Shayla.
“Can I get a selfie?” he asks.
“No,” Shayla says, glancing back at her bodyguards. It’s beyond rude. He didn’t even wait for an introduction before taking her picture.
One of Shayla’s bodyguards comes over. “No unauthorized photos. Delete it. Now.” He watches as Felipe deletes the picture. “Now delete it from the recently deleted folder.” Felipe scowls but follows orders.
Harper turns on Felipe. “I told you to be chill. If you can’t do that, leave.”
Felipe frowns. “I’m chill. I just wanted a selfie. Guess the great Shayla Adler doesn’t care about the little people.”
“Bye, Felipe,” Harper says, signaling to the guard.
Felipe lifts his palms and leaves.
“Sorry you had to ditch him because of me,” Shayla says.
Harper shakes her head. “I’m here for a girls’ night.” She glances to the back table, where Owen and Nathan are sitting, and turns back, her lips set in a flat line. “Talk about a cock block,” she says under her breath.
“More like a vag block,” Olivia supplies helpfully. “Or a clam jam if you want to continue the rhyme scheme.”
We all stare at her.
“What?” Olivia asks. “I don’t believe in using male terminology for women. It’s an erasure of our uniqueness.”
“Relax,” Shay says. “They’re not going to get in the way of our fun.” She waves at them. Owen stands and bumps Nathan’s arm to stand too. They walk over.
Owen pulls Shay close and kisses the top of her head. “Hey, all. Hope you don’t mind us crashing.”
“Not at all,” I say. “Any news from your networking?” I ask Nathan.
He tears his gaze from Harper, who’s suddenly very interested in imaginary lint on her dress. “I met up with a friend of a friend for a drink. This Wall Street guy. I’ll send you the details if it goes anywhere.”
“Cool,” I say. “It’d be great to have a real foothold with the finance sector.”
“Nathan’s thinking of selling his house,” Owen says. Nathan lives in Eastman, the town next to Clover Park.
Harper’s head snaps up. “Really?”
Nathan searches her expression. “Thinking about it. I could network a lot more with finance decisionmakers if I move to the city.”
“And for a woman,” Owen says.
Harper stiffens, stealing a sideways glance at Nathan.
Nathan shakes his head. “It’s like the bro code means nothing to you.”
Owen grins. “Couldn’t resist.”
“Our champagne’s here!” Shayla says. “Let’s sit over there and have a toast.”
Two waiters bring the champagne and glasses to a large round table with plush leather seats.
As we walk over, Harper whispers in my ear, “What woman?”
“No idea,” I say. Nathan’s never been serious about anyone.
After everyone has a glass, Shayla lifts hers in a toast. “To new ventures!”
We all toast to that.
“And friends!” I say, lifting a glass. We toast again.
“Does anyone want to dance?” Shayla asks. “I don’t mind if you want to go downstairs for a bit. I’ve got Owen to keep me company here.”
“I’ll go if you ladies want to go,” Nathan says.
“Mackenzie and I’ve already been down there,” Harper says.
“She met Felipe,” I say.
Nathan’s brows lift. “The guy with the wardrobe malfunction?” He gestures to the buttons on his shirt respectfully buttoned up.
“It was sexy,” Harper says. “Never mind. He sucks.”
“How about you?” Nathan asks Olivia.
“Me?” Olivia squeaks. “No, thanks. I’m not looking for a man. Not that you were asking me out. I, uh, no, thanks.” Bright pink splotches bloom on her cheeks and neck.
“When was the last time you hooked up with a sexy guy?” Harper teases Olivia.
I elbow Harper in the ribs. “Maybe she isn’t looking for a guy. It’s cool either way, Olivia.”
Olivia rolls her eyes. “I’m just busy with work. After I’m better established, I’ll think about a relationship with a man.”
“So my little brother has a chance?” I ask.
“Finn and I are pen pals,” Olivia says.
“Do you frame his poems?” I ask.
She crosses her arms. “He’s sending me poems for my opinion, that’s all. He’s trying to get published.”
I knew he was sending her poems! I bet she helps him with the rhyme scheme. Clam jam was genius. Ha!
“And all I want is a text,” Harper says on a sigh.
“You can’t even get a text?” Nathan asks. “What kind of guys are you—”
“What’s her name?” Harper asks.
Nathan’s brows scrunch in confusion. “Whose name?”
Shayla waves excitedly in the distance. “Claire! You made it!” Claire is Claire Jordan, Harper’s mom, famous actor, director, and producer.
Hollywood royalty. Well, so is Shayla. They’re just like us only prettier, richer, and well-traveled.
Ha! You couldn’t pay me to live in the spotlight. I like my privacy.
Harper stares with dismay as her mom approaches. “Why does Shayla hate me?”
Aunt Claire hugs Shayla. They pull back, hands on each other’s arms as they talk animatedly.
“She’s not like a regular mom,” Olivia says to Harper. “She’s cool. She’s Claire Jordan.”
Harper sends Olivia a dark look. “And my personal clam jam.”
Olivia fights a smile, probably pleased her suggested phrasing caught on.
I’d like to judge Harper for not being chill about hanging with her very cool mom, but I know if my mom were here, it would officially kill the vibe. I can’t be next to Mom without the comparisons. I can never measure up to the beauty queen. That’s a fact.
Mom never stopped trying to instill the importance of being a classy lady into me.
Sometimes I think she’s a throwback to the 1920s.
For real. Dad says she used to insult him by calling him a cad.
I had to look it up—a man who disregards others’ feelings.
It really was a word thrown around in those black-and-white movies she loves.
Turns out she’s a fan. So is Harper now.
Are they meeting behind my back? They both have delusions of romance.
I prefer comedies for my escape from reality.
“Family reunion at the club!” I crack up because it’s not my mom and brother.
Harper sends me a murderous look before throwing me under the bus as soon as Aunt Claire joins us. “Mackenzie’s seeing someone.”
“Shut. Up.” She knows about the fake dating, but she also knows I haven’t followed up with it because I’m not sure I can handle being so close to him without being close to him, and I mean that in every sense of the word—physically and emotionally.
Anyway, Aunt Claire will blab to Mom, and then I’ll have to pretend I’m into him some more when I’m trying so hard not to be into him, and I can’t even blame Mom for this mess because she told me to keep my distance from the beginning.
“Ooh,” Aunt Claire says. “Who is it?”
“No one,” I say.
Harper continues, “Remember Cal, the baseball player slash lawyer from the Valentine’s Day dance?”
My cheeks heat. “It’s nothing. Nathan, you should get in touch with my aunt Mad to sell your house.”
“Sure,” Nathan says. “It’s not definite yet.”
“Go, Mackenzie,” Shayla says. “A ball player. What team?”
“Some minor league team,” I mumble.
“Triple A Iowa Cubs,” Nathan says.
“Right, I forgot.” I search desperately for another topic of conversation. “So what’s the name of your new production company, Shay?”
“They didn’t do much talking at all,” Harper says.
“I remember him,” Aunt Claire says. “He’s gorgeous. Broad shoulders—”
“Can we not talk about this?” I say at the same time as Harper says, “Mo-om!”
“What? I notice things,” Aunt Claire says.
“You should’ve invited him tonight!” Shayla says. “Let’s text him now.”
“Yeah, let’s,” Harper says.
“It’s girls’ night,” I say. “Another time.” I turn to Shayla. “Tell us all about your new production company. Do you have a name?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about,” Shayla says. “I want to name it in honor of you, Claire, a play off of your Red Jewel Films.” That’s Claire’s production company. “Something like Ruby Sisters Productions. Olivia will be my partner on it, and she’s become like a sister.”
Olivia bites her lower lip, her eyes watering. Wow, I’ve never seen her emotional before.
Aunt Claire puts a hand over her heart. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m honored and so proud of you!”
They launch into excited business talk, where they mostly rave about each other’s artistic vision. Olivia chimes in with her practical business advice.
Harper wanders over to the rail, looking down at the dance floor. Nathan joins her. She glances at him, but he says nothing. Just keeping her company. They were childhood best friends. He even took her to the prom. I could never get her to say what exactly her issue is with him.
I pull my phone from my purse and do a quick Google search on Cal Davis purely out of curiosity. My stomach drops. A lot of images here of Cal with beautiful women at galas, games, restaurants, outside the Harvard club.
A bit more digging, and I see he played ball for a college team down South before the minors. After baseball, he went to Harvard law. I guess we never really took the time to get to know each other that well. Mostly surface fun stuff. But that’s what I wanted, right?
I wonder which one of these beautiful women lived with him. I can only imagine how I compare to these glamourous women. I’m more the girl-next-door type. Obviously he’s not going to go out of his way to fake date me or real date me. He’s got his pick!
“Earth to Mackenzie!” Shayla waves her hand in front of my face.
“Huh?”
“This is Rick and Max, my costars.” I look up at two guys standing next to Shayla. One tall and thin, the other average size but jacked with muscle. Neither one compares to Cal. Not that it matters.
Max offers his hand and gives me a firm handshake. “Mackenzie, nice to meet you. I’m Max Urban from Blaze. You might know me from Seeker too.”
Barf. Next he’ll bring up his IMDb page on his phone, showing off all his TV and movie credits. To say I’m not impressed by Hollywood types is an understatement. I grew up in Claire Jordan’s orbit. It’s not as glamorous as it looks from the outside.
“Rick,” the other guy says. “This is my first gig.”
“Cool. Nice to meet you both.”
Harper and Nathan join us, greeting the new guys. “I know you,” Harper says to Max. “I loved you in Seeker.”
His chest puffs out. “Want to get a drink?”
“Let’s dance!” She grabs my arm. “Rick, join us.”
“Anyone else want to join us?” I ask.
Nathan watches Harper, whose eyes are glued to Max and whatever he’s bragging about. “No, thanks. Have fun.”
I grab Olivia. “Come on, lady. Work break!”
“I like working,” she grumbles, but she still follows me.
“Yay, Olivia!” Shayla cheers.
We go downstairs, and Rick pulls me into the throng of writhing bodies, immediately dancing too close. Where’s Harper? Too many tall people block my view.
Rick puts his hand on my waist, shifting close. I shift back, out of reach, and turn toward Olivia, who’s dancing in a strange box step, her eyes firmly upstairs, where Claire and Nathan watch us from above.
A couple of dances in, I’m tired of evading Rick’s hands. I find Harper again and speak close to her ear. “I’m going home. Can you get a ride back with Owen?”
“It’s early!”
“I’m done.”
“Oh, fine.”
“Keep an eye on Olivia.”
We both glance over to where Olivia does a slow gyration, her hands swirling in the air. She almost looks like a genie coming out of her bottle. So cute.
I weave my way through the club, desperate for fresh air. Finally, I’m out the door. I take a refreshing breath of the cold night air. Just then I notice a man carrying a box crossing the street. My heart leaps to my throat.
Cal.
I practically run, so happy to see him that I bounce a little when I land in front of him on the sidewalk. “Hi! What’re you doing here?”
“Mackenzie! This is a surprise. What’re you doing here?”
I laugh. “I was at a club with my friends, but it got old. And you?”
“I was getting my last box of stuff from my ex.”
I go on tiptoe and peek in the box because I’m nosy like that. “Bummer.”
“It’s all good. You want a ride back?”
“Sure!”