Next-Door Nemesis(56)
I press my ear against the door to try to gauge what’s happening, but instead, all I hear is the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. I hightail it to my bed and grab a book off my nightstand, trying to look as natural and unbothered as possible.
“Oh please.” Ruby barges into my room with a breathless Ashleigh on her tail. “You’re not tricking anybody with this casual reader bullshit.”
“How dare you?” I toss the book beside me and attempt to sound affronted. “I’ll have you know that I’m a very serious reader. It’s a big part of my craft, thank you very much.”
It’s true.
A huge part of my time spent as a screenwriter has involved reading scripts and novels. It’s not my fault she chose to be a lawyer where she’s forced to read boring legal documents all day . . . and also get paid a bazillion dollars more than me.
I have fun. She can afford a mortgage.
Who’s to say what’s more important?
“You mean the craft you told me you were giving up on forever because your douchebag ex has you blacklisted from the industry you spent your entire adult life trying to break into?” She folds her arms and lifts a single eyebrow. It’s her most intimidating stance and I wither beneath her bright blue stare.
“Attack much?” I give up on the good posture and my spine curls into a familiar slouch. “I thought my mom was coming in with gossip and I was trying to play it cool.”
“What gossip are you so nervous about?” She’s like a goddamn shark.
No wonder she makes so much money. She’s told me that on top of keeping a record of her clients’ outcomes, she also has a ledger where she records how many of her clients’ exes she’s made cry.
The number is outrageous.
“I wasn’t nervous,” I lie through my fucking teeth. “But a person can only hear about who didn’t put money in the donation plate and whose teenager was caught vaping for so long.”
“She’s not wrong.” Ashleigh, even in her wild-ass leggings, is a sight for sore eyes. “The gossip around here is terrible. I’ve been waiting for someone to fill me in on a juicy affair or a white-collar-crime scandal, but the best thing that’s happened so far is Collins making a scene at an HOA meeting. But I was there so that tea’s cold and stale.”
“Affairs and white-collar crime?” I try not to laugh. “I’m going to need you to turn off Real Housewives and lower your standards. You live next door to Karen, not Erika Jayne.”
Nothing exciting has happened in this neighborhood since Mrs. Richmond walked in on Mr. Richmond with another woman and chased them both out of the house wearing nothing but sheets. And that was when I was in middle school.
“I will never.” Now Ashleigh has assumed the power position too. Apparently, Housewives is her line in the sand, and honestly? I respect it. “And why wouldn’t she just give back the damn earrings? I still don’t understand.”
“No, I can’t go back there.” I spent way too much of my life scrolling through Twitter reading everyone’s hot takes on Beverly Hills. I refuse to return to that dark part of my history. “But now that we’ve cleared all that up, do either of you want to tell me why you’re at my house so early and not still sleeping off the distillery’s worth of booze you both consumed last night?”
“You forgot?” Ashleigh reaches into her purse and pulls out a T-shirt with my campaign slogan ironed on it. “Today is the Reserve’s Freedom Parade and you’re in it.”
Fuck.
“Never mind, let’s talk Housewives instead.” I try to rewind time, but time travel is still outside my skill set.
“Too late! Time to get our favorite HOA candidate dressed and ready.” Ruby is taking way too much joy out of this. Not that I’m surprised. When I told her I joined the race, she laughed for a solid five minutes straight. And then she FaceTimed me so she could laugh in my (virtual) face.
“Have I ever told you that I can’t stand you?” I glare, but mine doesn’t seem to affect her the same way.
“If by can’t stand me you mean couldn’t live without me, then yes.” She takes the shirt from Ashleigh and shoves it in my hands before moving to my drawers to grab a pair of shorts. “And you should be so grateful to have us on your side.”
The contrast between her all-American, girl-next-door beauty and her hard-as-nails personality never ceases to amaze me. I’ve tried to model so many of my characters after her, but I can never do her justice on paper.
“Well, obviously.” I grab my outfit from her hands without even looking at the shorts she picked. “But why am I grateful today?”
For forcing me to stay true to my commitments and honor my word? I don’t think so.
“Because”—Ashleigh starts to pull out eyeshadow pallet after eyeshadow pallet from her purse, which I’m starting to think is less handbag and more magician’s tote—“we’re going to get you all glam and perfect so when you’re sitting next to Nate all day, people won’t even notice him.”
Any amusement I was feeling seconds ago shrivels up and dies as dread sinks its sharp claws into my throat until I can’t even talk.
“Except for me.” Ruby wiggles her eyebrows and shimmies her tiny hips. “You know I thought he was cute in high school, and after hearing you bitch about him these last few weeks, I’m dying to see how he’s held up.”