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"Yeah, they do. Let me guess, you got Daddy to agree to go in front of the camera, but you'd like a triple whammy." Or… "Did offering Daddy up stop them from canceling, but did they offer big money if you got Camden on there too?"
"You're no way near as famous as he and Camden are," Aspen grouched. "We just don't want to be mean and cut you out."
"Nice try, baby sis; you feel free to be mean. Because, let me guess, Camden said he won't do it unless I do."
When she scowled at me, I knew I was right.
Daddy was Daddy, and he was famous and rich and definitely a coup. But Camden? Camden was massive. And he was everyone and their mother's idea of a dreamboat.
Camden was the real tour de force. He hit more demographics than Adele, and each year, he was beating his own records at the Grammys.
I leaned forward and murmured, "If you wanted me to work on convincing Camden to be on your show, you should probably have turned up on time. I might have been more amenable."
Amenable…
The word triggered a whirlwind of thoughts and had me shooting out a message to Conor.
Me:Conor, could you do a background check on a Cassiopeia Rundel, please?
Conor:What's with the name?
Me:Her parents were star gazers. Will you look into her for me?
Conor:Sure. She’s a Sparrow?
Me:No, she's someone I know from school. I just bumped into her, and, I don't know, I feel like she's in some kind of trouble.
Conor:I'll send you what I find.
Me:Thank you so much xo
Conor:You owe me.
Me:What do you want?
Conor:You're at Aoife's bakery, aren't you?
Me:I won’t disrespect either of us by pretending that I’m not. Stalker.
Conor:Bring me one of her apple pies and I'll do whatever you want.
Me:Will do. :P
"You're not listening. So rude," Aspen bit off.
"I have business of my own to attend to, Aspen. My day isn't dedicated to you and your whining." I scowled at her. "You really need to have an attitude check, and I'm saying that. Me. I have a shitty attitude too. If I think you're a pain in the ass when I am one, then you're screwed."
Paris snorted. "You won't make her listen. Her new boyfriend likes her being a brat." She leaned forward. "You should hear them. They fuck all night long."
I grimaced. "You two need to get places of your own."
"Just because I have a sex life and you don't because you're boring and married," Aspen sniped.
Chuckling, I told her, "You're right. I need to live vicariously through you, Aspen."
With a sniff, she got to her feet. "I'm going to the bathroom."
"She isn't," Paris muttered, pointing to a man who was heading to the back of the coffee shop. "That's her boyfriend."
