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31
STAR
“Star.”
“Vana.” I arched a brow at her as she loomed in the doorway, fidgeting with her hands. “Thank you for all the cat shit by the way. I didn’t even know kittens needed that much crap.”
“You’re welcome,” she mumbled, peering over my shoulder.
I peered over my shoulder too. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” she declared brightly. Then, her eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you wearing?”
I looked down at my usual skinny jeans, shitkickers, wife beater, and leather jacket. “Clothes?”
“You need to dress the part.”
“What part?”
“The part of Conor O’Donnelly’s fiancée.”
My nose crinkled. “Will you do it for me? The shopping and…”
Her smile turned devious. “Gladly.”
Ah, crap. That smile meant I was getting new bras too. Fuck, and I’d just gotten this one how I liked it.
As if she knew what I was thinking, she asked, “Bra size?”
I grumbled out my measurements. On her front stoop no less.
“Come in.”
“You were holding me hostage before you got me to agree to that?”
“You made the suggestion. Not me.”
Bullshit. “What’s going on?” I countered, knowing her too well to trust her on word alone.
“Nothing!” She peered around me once again and saw Kat with a Switch in her hand, headphones tucked firmly on her head as she played a game. “Why’s she wearing headphones?”
I shrugged. “She likes the game noises. I hate them so she wears them.”
Vana made a ‘huh’ sound then mumbled, “Okay, I guess it doesn’t matter if you drop an F-bomb then.”
“Why would I?” I demanded, on high alert now.
“Because it’s time you met my best friend. She’ll help me with your atrocious wardrobe.”
I ignored that. “Oh. I already know Jennifer Valentini.”
“How do you know her?”
“Duh. I know everyone.”
“You’re such a bullshitter,” she sniped as she finally dragged me into her apartment.
“I mean, I try.” I peered around the open-plan living area. “This is massive. Why do you need more space?”
