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“No, a store for you to sell your cupcakes.” Lila giggles, the girlish sound making me smile. Lila’s laugh always has a way of making me feel like everything in the world is going to be all right.
“What cupcakes?”
“The ones you’re going to sell in your store. I told Hank what a brilliant baker you are and he’s hoping you brought something with you tonight.”
“I was working,” I say, by way of apology. Not that I would have made any for Hank. I’d give him an empty cupcake wrapper and say the vortex stole the actual cupcake. That would give him a real reason to say it sucked. I stifle a laugh at my mean thought. I don’t want Lila asking me what’s so funny.
“I’m so grateful you have a job that can support all of us while we find our paths. Elise and I are very lucky to have you. And the kids, of course.”
“It’s been my pleasure to help. You know I want you to pursue your dreams, but there’s something?—”
“Come on, you two.” Hank runs back to us, an obnoxious smirk on his face. “Am I watching a race between two snails?” I resist the urge to tell him he’s as funny as two rocks. I look over at Lila, and I’m grateful to see that she’s not laughing like a fool at his rude comment. I know she has a crush on him, but I will have to plan an intervention if it grows any larger. We’ve both seen single for a minute or two, but we’re not desperate. At least I’m not.
“We were just talking about the theater critic.” Lila’s voice is soft as we catch up to the other cast members. “I was just saying this could be our big break.”
“Oh, I’m totally going to make the front page of the papers tomorrow.” Hank nods and pretends to shake a newspaper and read it. “Calling All New Yorkers and the President, We Have A New Star in Town.” He lightly taps the front of his head and pretends to brush magic dust off. “This time tomorrow I’m going to have hundreds of agents competing for me, wanting to sign me. I’ll be able to headline any show or movie I want. I’m the next big thing, baby.”
“Modest, aren’t you?” I say and ignore Lila’s quick look of embarrassment.
“Sorry, what?” Hank looks back at me. “What did you say? I missed it.”
“I said that you’re very hopeful for someone that?—”
“It’s not hope, dear,” he says condescendingly. “It’s called talent and knowing your worth.” Gag me with a knife. Can this man be any more annoying?
“I think it’s important to know when you’re talented and when you’re not.” I nod, look over to Lila, and smile to assuage her reaction. “Like Lila has more talent in her little thumb than?—”
“Oh, are we nearly there yet?” Lila practically shouts and spins around. “I really need a drink and some food and?—”
“Food?” Hank looks her up and down, and I’m ready to jump into the ring like Muhammed Ali preparing to take down Joe Frazier. We all know what he’s intimating, and I’m not going to let him disrespect my best friend.
“Just because you’re a twig doesn’t mean we have to be.” I snarl at him and grab Lila’s hand. “Come with me. I need to get—go to the restroom, and it looks like we’re here.” I nod to the bar sign featuring an owl on the back of a pussycat in a hammock.
“Okay, sure.” She nods and looks at the black-and-white illustrated sign. “Interesting. I thought they’d have the owl and pussycat in a boat in the sea.”
“Me too.” I grin. “Maybe they didn’t want to get sued for copyright issues.”
“Ooh.” Her eyes widen. “Could they get sued if they did that?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I haven’t gone to law school yet.”
“True,” she says as we take our IDS out to show the doormen. “Should we wait for Hank and the others to go in?” I make a face at her, and she smiles wryly. “He’s not that bad.”
“Girl, he’s horrible. Please tell me you’re not seriously considering dating that douche canoe.” I hear a man beside me chuckling, and I look over at him. He’s tall, dark, and handsome, and my stomach flutters as he winks at me. I’m not even mad that he’s been eavesdropping on my conversation.
“More like douche yacht.” She giggles as we head inside, and I feel a massive release of tension jumping off my shoulders and diving headfirst into the rather packed and noisy bar. “He most probably thinks he’s the Titanic of actors.”
“He’s ready for an iceberg, that’s for sure,” I shout so she can hear me, and we both laugh. My eyes venture around the space, and I realize that this is quite a trendy place. My stomach sinks again for a few moments as my brain processes what trendy means. Trendy means expensive drinks, and expensive drinks means draining my bank account or adding to my already too-large credit card balances.
Trendy also means that lots of men in suits are standing around talking about the stock market and how their funds are up thirty-five percent this week while the other group of men are wearing skinny jeans and talking about going on retreats to India to study yoga or going to the jungles of Peru to do Ayahuasca—neither of which I care about.
“So, what are we going to drink tonight?” Lila’s eyes are as bright as lightbulbs as she looks around. Lila doesn’t care if a guy is full of himself when she’s on the prowl. Her motto is “attention is attention,” and there’s no such thing as negative attention. I guess she feels that way because she’s a wanna-be actress, though I guess now she’s a real actress, seeing as this is a paying role. Even though the pay is twenty-dollars a performance right now. Certainly not enough to help pay the rent, electricity, or cable bills. My mind flashes to the red letter I’d received that morning from the power company, and I sigh.
“Water?” I say, wondering if she’ll go for it. “Didn’t we say that we were going to give up alcohol as a New Year’s resolution?”
“It’s February, Zara.” She pauses dramatically and leans forward. “Do not look, but two hot-ass guys are heading our way.”
“To us?” I’m taken aback. We’re cute, but we don’t usually have men headed over to us as soon as we enter the bar. I pray to God she’s not talking about Hank and his friend. If she’s referring to him as hot-ass, I will drive her to the emergency room immediately.
