And I was right. She was pissed.
“But we were on the phone for over an hour last night! Whydidn’t you say anything? I could have come earlier. I could have met him!”
“Which,” Boomer said, pointing a finger at her, “is probably why she didn’t tell you. Remember the time you met that one guy?”
He didn’t need to elaborate. Asha and I both knew exactly who he was referring to. Last year on Boomer’s birthday, Asha had spotted Ryan Klein, one of the actors fromImmortal Nights,while we were eating dinner at Vine & Dine. Not only did she scream Ryan’s name to get his attention, but she knocked over a waitress carrying a tray of food in her mad scramble to reach him.
“So I wanted an autograph,” Asha said, batting her lashes in an attempt to look doe-eyed. “What’s the big deal?”
“You got us kicked out of my favorite restaurant—on my birthday,” Boomer grumbled, but it was in a good-natured way, and I knew there was no lingering grudge.
“Asha,” I interjected, before they continued to bicker. “I wanted to mention it last night, I swear. But our plans weren’t concrete, so I wasn’t entirely sure he would show up.”
“But—”
“Don’t you want to hear what happened?” I asked, cutting her off before she couldreallystart complaining.
The frown on Asha’s face disappeared, and she leaned in, eyes wide and gleaming. “Something happened?”
An uncontrollable grin returned to my face, and I glanced down at the coffee mug nestled between my hands. The steaming warmth was reassuring, and I bit my lip before saying, “I think Alec asked me on a date.”
Some of the red slush sloshed over the rim of Asha’s cup and onto the table. “What?”
“Okay, I don’t actually know if it counts as a real date. He didn’t use the worddate…”
For the next ten minutes, Asha grilled me about Alec’s invitation, which I assumed was comparable to being interrogated by the FBI. What were the exact words he used? Did he seem nervous or casual? What kind of party was it? Who else would be there? How about the rest of the Heartbreakers?
Eventually we arrived at the scariest question of them all: what would I wear to the party? It made me nervous, because what did one wear to a barbecue/potential date with a celebrity where there would most likely be throngs of other celebrities? I had a feeling there weren’t fashion guidelines for this sort of thing.
“How about that purple dress I wore for last year’s school picture? The one with the lace sleeves?” I suggested.
Asha pushed her hair out of her face as she considered. “For a barbecue? I don’t know, Felicity. I was thinking something more summery. I wish I could come over and help you get ready Friday morning, but I already have something going on.”
I frowned when she rubbed her nose and looked away from me. She was hiding something, but Boomer, who’d been sitting quietly for the recent part of our conversation, let out an impatient sigh.
“Ladies,” he said, “as much as I wouldloveto scrutinize every clothing option in Felicity’s closet and come up with atrès chickensemble, I think my balls are starting to shrivel.”
Somehow, in the midst of talking about Alec, I’d completelyforgotten that Boomer was sitting with us. I opened my mouth, but before a single word emerged, Asha roared with laughter.
“It’strès chic,” she said.
Boomer frowned. “What?”
“Chic, notchick. French forvery stylish. I can’t believe the phrasetrès chic ensembleis part of your vocabulary.”
He rolled his eyes. “What you don’t know is that I moonlight as a Parisian couture designer,” he said. “But seriously, I was trying to get your attention, and obviously it worked. For the love of God, can we please talk about something other than clothes?”
Chapter 7
On Friday, my morning started out good.Really good.I woke up to a text from an unknown number, and I immediately knew who it was from.
213-555-0189:Still up for some pain and torture?
Grinning, I added Alec to my contacts and texted him back.
Felicity:What if I say no? ;)
Alec:Too bad. I’ll see you at 11:15.
