AllFreeNovel
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Clay’s wearing jeans, a white polo, and Jordans, his tattoos mellow against his tan skin. He looks every bit the Californian. I’m in a white sundress and wedge sandals, and I styled my hair in waves.
Music drifts from the back of the house or the inside—or both. Clay takes my hand and leads the way.
When we get to the front door, Annie’s already there, her arms wide. “Nova! You’re here!”
She looks effortlessly cool in a gray knit strapless dress that skims her body, gathered high on one hip and brushing her toes on the other side.
“Barre girl!” The blonde, Elle, shouts from inside.
“Welcome.” If Annie’s intimidated by the enormous guy that is my boyfriend, she doesn’t show it. “Tyler’s around here somewhere.”
We follow her inside, where a few dozen people are already mingling, a few dancing, everyone with a drink in their hand. Annie cuts through the crowd to a dark-haired guy in a Henley. Her hand rests on his shoulder, and she murmurs something in his ear.
He looks over, dark eyes piercing both of us.
“Don’t even think about the tits thing.” Clay’s hand tightens on my waist.
Annie motions us over and introduces her husband, Tyler.
“Rose is staying with my dad and stepmom tonight, so it’s only adults. God, do I need a night of only adults.” Annie’s laughter sounds like tinkling bells at a holiday concert. “Can I get you both a drink?”
We agree, and she retrieves a beer for Clay and a spritzer for me. We talk with Tyler and Annie, and they introduce us to a few more friends: a reality-TV star, a British entertainment magnate; his wife, who’s a world-renowned DJ; and his brother, who’s a professional soccer player. Ash—the soccer player—and Clay get started on the difference between pro sports in the UK and the US.
“I have a confession: I also needed some girl time,” Annie confides in me, leaning in. “My dad’s been visiting, so he and Tyler talk shop all the time. It’s too much testosterone, and Rose isn’t old enough or loud enough to back me up yet.” She winks and tugs me out to the patio, which has a pool and a sweeping view of West Hollywood.
Annie Jamieson is remarkably down-to-earth for someone with 270 degrees of ocean outside her kitchen. I like her already.
“I get what it’s like to be surrounded by boys working,” I say. “I left most of my friends behind in Denver when we came for Clay’s work.”
She nods sympathetically. “An opportunity comes up and you don’t have time to think. You leap or you fall. What they never tell you is even when you say yes, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
I take a sip of my drink, staring at the sunset. “Are you allowed to say that?”
She bursts out laughing, a hand covering her mouth. “Jesus, Nova, it’s a good thing I don’t drink champagne. I’d have bubbles coming out my nose for weeks.” Once her laughter fades, she says, “You’re right. Once you get all the things, you’re not allowed to say shit. Even if what you wanted doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would.”
My gaze scans the party, landing on Clay talking to Tyler and the entertainment magnate. Harrison, I think his name is.
“So, how do you deal?” I ask.
“You make friends. The kind you can be honest with.” Her gaze lands on a dark-haired woman weaving through the crowd.
Little Queen. The DJ. She played one night in Denver when we all went out.
Annie wraps an arm around the woman’s neck and drags her close. “Tell me you weren’t fucking Harry in the hall closet again.”
“I thought that was reserved for you and Tyler,” the woman deadpans, her eyes sliding between us. “At least at parties.”
Annie gasps. “How did you know about that?!”
“Everyone knows about that.”
Annie laughs and turns back to me. “Rae and I went to school together. Elle too.”
“Nova,” I say, holding out a hand.
Rae takes it with a secretive smile. “The boys are entertaining themselves.” She glances at them. “Tattoos. He with you?”
“Yeah.”
