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“Why were you talking to my mother?” I wanted to know as I reluctantly returned to my seat and once again sought out the comfort of my coffee. “And what’s happening tonight?”
“Your mother called. She’s invited us to dinner tonight at that new place, L’Oceano. Apparently, your sister’s boyfriend just proposed, and they want everyone to come and help celebrate. Basically, they’re throwing a party to announce the engagement party.”
“You mean my sister wants to show off her big, expensive diamond ring and brag about how she’s finally snagged the son of a millionaire,” I replied bitterly, seeing this sudden dinner for what it was—a way for my sister to show off and a chance for most of my family to put me down.
My sister, Ginny, always wanted to marry wealth, or at least marry someone with influence. However, there was only one exception to that rule and that was something that she rarely talked about. From the time she realized that her stunningly good looks and her status as a world-famous runway model could work to her advantage, Ginny entered the world of the millionaire-dating without so much as a glance backward. The fact that she was six-feet tall, strawberry-blonde, and built like a willow didn’t hurt either.
More often than not, my older sister made me feel like I had inherited all the defective family genes while she’d cashed in on all the good ones. I was barely five-six with dark, dishwater-blonde hair and as my cousin Stephanie was so fond of saying, I carried at least twenty more pounds than I needed to. To be honest, both Ginny and Stephanie made me feel like the ugly duckling that forgot to grow up into the beautiful swan.
“Hey!” Ethan said suddenly, interrupting the dangerous path that my mind was leading me down. “I know what you’re doing! No feeling bad about yourself!” He reached out and gently swatted my hand. “You will not compare yourself to anyone, do you hear me? You. Will. Not. Compare. Yourself. To. Anyone. Especially your sister and your slutty cousin.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Ethan and I had been best friends since we were six years old. He was the first friend that I made in kindergarten and had been by my side ever since. He’d been my partner in crime as we navigated the treacherous road of our formative years. We survived puberty side by side. We went to prom together. We supported one another through each other’s milestones, and I was the first person to celebrate with him when he came out the night of our high school graduation.
“I won’t compare myself to anyone. And I will try to have a good time at this dinner and try not to wish that I were at home watching cooking shows instead.”
“Don’t you mean drooling over Joel Alexander?” Ethan teased, knowing me far better than I knew myself.
“I do not drool!” I tried to argue but it was no use. I drooled. I stared. I fantasized. I lusted. And hard. The main star of America’s Chef Challenge was gorgeous. I’d had a huge crush on him for years, ever since I first saw him teaching an eight-year-old aspiring chef how to make a simple egg souffle. I couldn’t help it. He was the man of my dreams and I’d been smitten ever since.
Joel Alexander was redwood tall, russet-haired, amber-eyed, and possessed the longest, most elegant, graceful hands that I’d ever seen. Hands with experience. Ones that I knew could offer someone a really good time. Despite his popularity, not much was known about his background but like most TV personalities, I assumed that he wanted to keep his public life and private life separate. I would too if I were in his position. I could only imagine what it would be like to have your public life be so inundated that your private one needed to be a refuge. Not to mention the havoc it could wreak on relationships. I’m sure whoever the lucky person he was with appreciated how guarded that side of his life was. It also left me slightly jealous that whoever it was got to spend their time with this gorgeous man. A man who was also funny, charming, charismatic, and hot. God, was he hot! Each time he gazed into the camera, I lost a little piece of myself to that mischievous twinkle in his eye and the delicious curve of his smile.
“Oh, please, Haley! Give me a break. You need a drop cloth down at your feet every time he’s on, otherwise you’d flood the apartment below with saliva.”
“No.” I fought back with a dose of denial. “I just like the show. That’s all.” I sighed inwardly as I tried to defend myself further, but it was to no avail. Ethan knew the truth. He’d seen it firsthand. “Besides, what’s wrong with thinking he’s cute?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with him lighting your fire or revving your engine. It’s just time that you admitted it instead of trying to deny it.”
“Why should I admit it? It’s not like I’ll ever meet him, or that he’ll ever fall in love with me. He’s high profile, Ethan, and I’m ‘wouldn’t even get noticed on the subway’. I don’t need to be reminded that he lives up here,” I raised my hand high over my head. “and I live way down here.” I lowered my hand to my knees. “I’m very much well aware of that.”
“Ethan? Can I see you for a moment please?” Donnell Bryson, the man who Ethan worked for and quite possibly the best boss anyone could ask for, stepped out of his office to interrupt us and beckon my best friend away.
“I’ll be right there.” Ethan offered his employer a wave. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner. Remember. L’Oceano. Seven o’clock. And wear something nice. Don’t wear that same ruffled shirt and those ratty-assed jeans. This is a special occasion. Who knows, you could meet the man of your dreams.”
I rolled my eyes as Ethan winked and headed for his boss’ office. I spent the next hour and a half completing the endless tasks that no one else could be bothered to do. Later that evening, I found myself standing at the reception desk in L’Oceano wearing the cute and fun blue floral day dress that I’d picked up at a thrift store for a dollar. I looked good and hoped that alone would get me through dinner.
It didn’t.
***End of Sample***
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“Happynow?Thecall’sover!” I shouted to the asshat seated directly behind me. Furious he’d dared to eavesdrop, I was working quickly towards pissed because the jackass now assumed he was an active participant in my conversation with my best friend.
Oh. I. Don’t. Think. So.
His audacity left me seeing red. I sat stewing for a full second before a hard kick landed against the back of my chair.
SNAP!
Okay, that was it.
There went the last thread of my patience.
“Okay, that’s it! I’ve had it! How old are you, asswipe? Three?” I roared as I shot up from my seat. Spinning around, I prepared to open fire on whoever it was that dared to push my buttons. As I leveled my baleful glare, I stopped short.
No.
No, it couldn’t be!
