Chapter 3 #2
We pause our conversation to chitchat with Kim as she doles out our dinner. The asshole customer finally left just moments before Kim lost her cool. We try to distract her with tales of our week until another server calls her away.
Astrid waves at someone across the room. “Excuse me for just a second. I need to say hello to someone.”
“Sure,” Audrey says as Astrid stands.
We watch as she approaches a very handsome man standing at the front of the restaurant. He’s much taller than Astrid, with sandy brown hair and a solid jaw. He carries himself with a sexy confidence that reminds me of someone else I know.
“I didn’t say that I’d win. I just said I’d be happy to give Gianna a chance to handle me. Sounds fun.”
A smile tickles my lips. That it does, Drake.
“Who the heck is that?” Audrey asks. “He looks vaguely familiar, but his name eludes me.”
I refocus on the man conversing with our friend. “Don’t know. I’ve never seen him before. I’d remember that face.”
Astrid gives a final smile and then returns to her seat.
“Hello?” I ask as her ass hits her chair. “Who in the hell was that? You have two very single friends sitting right here.”
“Jason Brewer!” Audrey shakes her head. “I knew I recognized him. He’s Renn’s brother, right?”
Well, that makes sense. Those Brewer men, especially the youngest one, Tate, are stun-ning. I have no idea how Astrid works with them without a bib to catch her drool.
Astrid returns her napkin to her lap. “Yes, that’s him. Jason owns Brewer Air, which is convenient when I’m trying to schedule a family vacation for their entire freaking family. Having an airline at my disposal makes things infinitely easier.”
“Who has an airline at their disposal?” I laugh before taking a large drink. “It must be nice to live in their world.”
“They don’t complain much,” she says, smiling. “But can we get back to the fight you were having over a coat tree? What in the world was that about?”
“What’s a coat tree, anyway?” Audrey asks. “Or is that a euphemism I’m not aware of?”
I chuckle. “It’s a tall wooden pole, kind of, with hooks on it. People put them in foyers and hang their coats and hats on them.”
Audrey nods, adjusting the ribbon in her hair. “Oh, yeah. I know what you’re talking about. My parents have one. I’ve only ever heard them called a hall tree, though.”
“Are you getting into coats all of a sudden?” Astrid asks, scooping rice up with her fork. “Or is this another project?”
“Project, of course.”
My friends exchange a glance that can easily be read as here she goes—the she meaning me—and that’s fair.
I’m always getting myself into one project or four hundred.
Luckily, my friends understand my artistic quirks and indulge my big ideas …
even though they probably think I’ve lost my mind most of the time.
“But my vision may or may not come to fruition because the woman who has the perfect coat tree has decided it’s worth a small fortune.
” I huff. “It’s in a backyard barn. She’s not even using it, yet she won’t sell it to me at a reasonable price.
Hell, if I pay her what she wants, I won’t have a house to put it in.
It’ll be me and the perfect coat tree living in my car. So sad.”
“It may hold sentimental value,” Audrey says as if getting attached to a piece of pine is normal behavior. “Maybe it was her grandmother’s, or her late husband hung his cap there every night after work.”
“Yeah, or she might be trying to get rich off me, Auddie.”
Astrid snorts. “There’s only one type of pole that you can get rich on, and I don’t think it’s an antique hall tree.”
“I’ll have to take a turn on that pole to afford this one if she doesn’t cut me a deal,” I say, groaning.
Audrey takes a drink of her Arnold Palmer. “You could always keep searching until you find a more affordable option. I’m sure there are others out there that will work just as well.”
“Audrey,” I say, giving her a pointed look that makes her smile. “I love you. Endlessly, really. But this isn’t a moment when I need you to be sweet and reasonable. I need you to ask me whose car we’re taking to go steal that coat tree tonight.”
“Let’s change the subject.” She shakes her head as if she doesn’t know whether to laugh or be scared. “How is the podcast going? Today’s episode was fantastic.”
I beam. “Thank you.” A bubble of excitement gathers in my stomach, making it hard to sit still. “So two fabulous things happened today. The first is that Mercy Marlow, drummer for Wildfire, accepted our request for an interview.”
“No way!” Astrid says, covering her mouth.
“Gianna, this is incredible. I can’t wait to listen,” Audrey says.
Astrid laughs. “Can you ask anything you want? Because I have a few questions I’d like to throw in the mix.”
“They said anything goes, so, yeah. I have open access to her.” I giggle, still stunned. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it.” Audrey places her hand over mine, her eyes shining with pride. “You deserve this, my friend.”
Gosh, I love how supportive my friends are. They are truly the best thing that has ever happened to me.
My eyes begin to grow foggy, but I’m not about to cry. I’m no sap.
“And the other very cool thing is that my producer told me that I’m in the running for the Thursday slot,” I say, dancing in my seat.
I’m too pumped not to move, and I don’t care who is watching.
The movement also helps segue the sappy feelings to more celebratory ones.
“That’s like prime time for podcasts, guys. The big leagues.”
Astrid smiles. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Really?” I ask, laughing. “Because I am.”
“No. You’ve found your niche, and anyone with eyeballs can see that you’re perfect for this,” Astrid says. “Who are you running against?”
I take a breath and lick my lips. “It’s apparently between me and Sports Take with Drake Bennett.”
An amused grin slips across my cheeks. Even the man’s name is a vibe, leaving a taste on my tongue after it passes my lips. It’s too bad that he isn’t my type.
Astrid leans forward, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “Drake Bennett, huh? Gray listens to his podcast all the time. He says that Drake’s the only sports guy worth listening to because he really knows his stuff.”
“I will never tell Drake that,” I say, laughing.
“Why?” Audrey slices her chicken breast. “That’s a nice thing. He’d probably like to hear it.”
“Of course, he would, which is precisely why I won’t tell him.
” I shrug, dusting a strand of hair off my shoulder.
“He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t need his ego stroked, okay?
He’s hot as hell. I think his show is the most popular sports podcast in the world—if not, it’s close.
And he’s also a reasonably nice guy.” I lift a brow before taking a sip of my drink to cool myself down. “See what I mean?”
“Oh, I see what you’re saying,” Astrid says, grinning.
Audrey giggles. “Me, too. Is he your next victim?”
“Absolutely not.” I shove a forkful of salmon into my mouth. “And I can’t decide whether I’m offended by your use of the word victim to describe the men I sleep with, or if I’m proud of it.”
Astrid sets her fork down and lifts her glass, swaying it back and forth in the air. The smugness of her grin piques my interest.
“What?” I ask.
“Why did you say absolutely not in response to Audrey’s question? He seems right up your alley.”
I snort. “Of course, he’s right up my alley. I can’t imagine a female who wouldn’t want him up their alley.” Turning to Audrey, I wink. “That was a euphemism in case you didn’t catch on.”
“Believe it or not, I do get them sometimes,” she says, shaking her head.
Our laughter floats through the air, attracting glances and smiles from patrons nearby. A woman not far from us lifts a glass in a toast. To what? I don’t know. Maybe she’s just acknowledging our friendship. But I respect the sentiment and lift mine back to her.
Kim drops by to check on our table, and I use the opportunity to segue our conversation from Drake to Kim’s new puppy because the last thing I want to delve into tonight is my coworker. While delving into him would undoubtedly be a memorable experience, it’s also undoubtedly even better in my head.
And that’s where it’ll stay.