Page 75 of Off Limits Mogul

“Well, don’t you know, short hair is a travesty on a pretty girl.” The sarcasm in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Err… I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“It’s ridiculous. I’m twenty-three years old. She doesn’thave a say on my haircut.” Michaela’s gaze moves away from the screen. She glances at the distance before locking eyes again. “As usual, she’s talking out of her ass.”

I laugh.

She joins me.

“Enough about my unpleasant stepmother. I want to hear all about your living arrangement with one of the hottest men in the country. How is it to shack up with Luva Boy Rhys?”

“Where should I start?” I tap my chin, pretending to think hard. “Should I start with the way I insulted him a few hours after landing in LA, and how he was so pissed off, he stormed out and left me alone in his house.”

“What?”

“Or should I tell you all about stripping down to my sheer underwear and wet white t-shirt on Sunday after a hair-raising brush with death in my crusade to show Rhys I’m more than his best friend’s little sister?”

“Excuse me?”

“Or should we start with my new reality of being nothing more than a Stepford wife, trapped in a big ass mansion with nothing to do, waiting for my husband to come home with the bacon.”

Her face drops. “You’ve been holding back on me,” Michaela says. “Your text messages suggested it was a rocky start between you two.”

She’s right. I’ve been circumspect, unwilling to reveal too much. Partly because I’m still embarrassed by my attitude on the night I arrived.

“What you just described is what bad reality TV shows are made of.”

Fact.

“Do you want to start from the beginning and fill me in?”

I spill my guts to my newfriend.

She listens her eyes wide with amazement, firing a thousand questions my way.

I conclude my story.

“That was a lot to unpack,” Michaela says

“Tell me about it.” I blow out a breath.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the afternoon?”

“I took a cab to the grocery store and liquor store this morning to stock up. I was about to prepare piña colada number three, fill a bowl with more chips, and another with homemade salsa and guacamole to continue my tropical fiesta for one when you called.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“It’s not. I miss our structured life in Nepal.” I let out a long sigh.

The nuns and priests at the monastery assigned tasks to everyone living under their roof. Even though we were there for introspection, the manual work was a welcome distraction. Along with a few other long-term guests, Michaela and I were in charge of tending to the organic garden.

“There has to be something you can do around the house,” Michaela says.

“Rhys has a housekeeper who cleans from top to bottom, so it’s not like I can contribute. He has a top-notch chef who comes in to fill his fridge and freezer, so it’s a waste of time for me to search how to cook‘A delish meal in 30 minutes or less’.The groundkeeper and his crew keep the greenery well-manicured. The pool girl doesn’t need my help. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure she hates my guts.”

“What do you mean?”

“She gave me the evil eye when she saw me this morning stretched out on the lounge chair, reading in the shade. I most didn’t appreciate her line of questioning as she tried to figure out who Iwas.”