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“Hello?”
“Abby. What are you up to this lovely morning?”
“I just got back from a run. Why?” I shuffle into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee.
“Abby,” Kate says. “I’m only in LA for another week or so. The award show is over and the guys are almost done recording. I know the photographers must be getting to you by now. Do you want to discuss it?”
I sigh and put down my mug. “Kate, I really don’t want to talk about the paparazzi that have been stalking me everywhere I go. I’ve learned to deal with it and they’ve tapered off a lot in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Listen, Abby. Remember when they first found me at UCLA?”
I think back to college and that horrible time the paparazzi showed up at one of Kate’s soccer games. They caused a near riot and Kate ended up being benched. “Yeah, it was awful.”
“Let me help you deal with this. Come over and we’ll talk.” I hesitate, so she continues. “Besides, Poppy misses you.”
I laugh. “Poppy misses me, huh? She’s not even a year old, Kate. Poppy doesn’t know me from Adam.”
“Tosh. Of course she does. Adam’s a complete tosser and you’re not. Even a baby knows that. Come over, Abby. I’m at the Four Seasons, so it’s not far from your house.”
Grinning, I throw up my hands in defeat even though Kate can’t see them. “Fine. I’m leaving now.”
* * *
“So you haven’t heard from Hawke at all about the articles or the paparazzi?”
I shake my head and bounce Kate and Dax’s adorable daughter in my lap as she plucks bits of cereal off the kitchen table and stuffs the pieces into her mouth. “No. I told you that on Thursday.”
“That asshole,” Kate hisses under her breath.
“What?” I stop bouncing Poppy long enough for her to grab a hunk of my hair. “Ouch!”
“Hawke. I paid him a little visit yesterday.” Kate sits back in her chair, sipping her mimosa.
“Honestly, Kate! I can’t believe you did that.” I pry Poppy’s pudgy little fist open and extract my hair.
“What?” she exclaims, acting wide-eyed and innocent. “He deserved it, the stupid sod.”
“Deserved what? Oh no.” I remember stories of Kate laying into Adam back when he used to get drunk. Heck, I’ve seen her lay into Adam. It’s been years, but she was brutal. “You didn’t kick him, did you?”
Kate doesn’t get to answer, because Dax comes into the room, laughing loudly into his cell phone. He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a bunch of food, stacking it on the counter.
“No, he did. I swear!” Dax practically shouts into the phone.
Kate and I exchange glances. She shrugs, not wanting to continue talking about Hawke with her husband in the room.
Dax assembles a massive sandwich, slicing it in half with the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder. “Adam, I’m telling you I heard a rumor from this guy I know and he confirmed it when I called to ask if it was true. He banged Jessica Hamby.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Kate’s mouth fall open. Ice trickles through my veins, making it seem too cold in the previously warm kitchen.
“Right, mate. Yeah. And on the flight to Denver, can you believe it? Lucky bastard.”
“What was that about being lucky, Dax?” Kate asks, her arms crossed over her chest.
His wide smile drops off his face and he covers the phone with his hand. “I didn’t say I want to shag Jessica Hamby on a flight, angel.”
“Uh-huh.” She glares at her husband.
His mouth drops as he realizes how far he stuck his foot in it. “Adam, I gotta run, mate.” Dax ends the call and grabs his lunch. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, angel. Hawke is the one who shagged that Jessica girl, not me.” Kate’s eyes harden and Dax stammers. “I don’t want to shag her… Shit.”
