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I laughed. “Cheers,” I said, clinking my glass against hers before taking a sip of what I realized was my first ever taste of champagne. I quietly delighted in the realization, closing my eyes and savoring the bubbles on my tongue before picking up my pen and adding another line into my journal.

“Let me guess—you’re just scribbling Mrs. Iain Thorn on repeat in that thing,” Mia teased, eyeing me before grabbing a new order ticket from the printer.

“Excuse you. You know that’s not what this thing is for,” I laughed, smoothing an adoring hand over my notebook as I tried to focus on the things I was supposed to write. “Oh!” I snapped my fingers when I thought of one.

Mia called Morgan and quit the day I was fired. I wouldn’t let her and made her call Morgan back. But I appreciated the loyalty.

“For the record, these last two were about you,” I smirked as I scribbled it in.

“What? Thankful that we have opposite work hours so you can scream ‘Mr. Ass’ as loud as you want while being BFF with your vibrator?”

“Actually, no, because I don’t own a vibrator.”

“But the rest of that is true right?”

My nose crinkled as I grinned. “It’s not not true, but for the record, I don’t call him Mr. Ass. That’s weird.”

“Is it? I mean it stands for Mr. Angry Sex in a Suit, and according to what you’ve told me, he is all about that angry sex,” Mia said just as Lana came over and gave a dramatic groan.

“Oh, for the love of God, Mia, don’t encourage the girl,” she said with exasperation, prompting both Mia and me to look at her and speak in unison.

“What?”

Lana heaved a big sigh, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the bar to face me, making sure to look already very tired with me.

“Yeah, Mia told us you’re allegedly banging Mr. Ass because you know him from like, childhood, which does make a lot of sense for why he even wanted to talk to you that night, but just to be real with you,” she gave a big, exaggerated cringe, “I don’t buy it. I just don’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I said, exchanging a humorous look with Mia. And though I intended on leaving the conversation there, it was clear Lana didn’t.

“I mean I get that you’re new in town, but he’s… not a small deal here. You know? He could literally have like, the hottest girls on Instagram, or legit models and actresses, or any of us, so…” She held her hands in the air and shrugged as she trailed off. “This whole thing just sounds like you talking out all your daydreams and like, little girl fantasies. It just doesn’t sound real at all.”

My eyebrows ascended with amusement as I nodded at her assessment, a bit surprised by the passion with which she delivered it. She’d clearly been thinking about it, but considering it was Iain we were talking about, I didn’t really blame her.

Also, I was completely distracted by the new text lighting my screen.

IAIN: What are you doing

There you are, I thought as I bit back the instant grin on my lip.

ME: Catching up with Mia

I sent the text before looking back at Lana.

“Yeah, you know, I agree with you. None of this seems real at all,” I said distractedly, letting Lana scoff “see?” to Mia before grinning smugly and taking off with her drinks to her section.

Mia hit me with a glare as she sauntered off.

“What the shit, Holland? Way to burst my fuck-Lana bubble.”

I laughed as I peered down at my phone.

“I know, but to be fair, these were all my little girl fantasies,” I said. “If you found my old journals, I have literally tons of them filled with all the things he did or said to me that given day. How completely in love I was with him. Teenaged me lived for that man. Which is why it still feels like none of this is real.”

“Yeah, but it is. I mean there’s a small percentage of people who can say this, but you actually got your childhood crush. And you should let me throw that in Lana’s face if I want to.”

“Well, it’s just for a few weeks,” I clarified, warding away the bit of twisting in my stomach by doodling in the corner of my notebook. “And even that’s pending whether or not he’s mad at me for sending him that picture of my boobs.”

“Mad at you? Have you seen your boobs? What man would be mad at you for sending a picture of it?”

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