Plot Twist(42)

“So how do I fix this? How do I bring more of myself to the table in my next relationship?” Sophie’s head tilted back as she said, “Basically, anytime I think about my situation, just one song comes to mind. DJ, play ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ by Taylor Swift for the people at home.”

Sophie stopped filming, added in the Taylor Swift anthem, and posted her video. She started to walk again and was determined not to think about Dash. But she instinctively glanced at her screen to see if he’d texted. He hadn’t. She inhaled sharply and prepared to put the phone away and bury down her disappointment, but then she saw a new notification of a comment on her video that made her smile.

@tokcrafty2me you are perfect.
Sophie arrived early to dinner—twenty minutes early, to be exact. Tardiness was a pet peeve of Carla’s, so Sophie power-walked the mile to Santa Monica Boulevard and the sushi restaurant where they were meeting.

In doing so, though, she’d rubbed her toes raw against the new slip-on sandals she wore—closed-toe, heavy, and not at all appropriate for Los Angeles in the summer (but they looked too cute not to wear). So she limped on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and watched as a rather angry man shouted into his phone and pointed to an illegally parked Ferrari in the process of being towed.

The air was warm, despite the setting sun, and a thin line of sweat dappled her hairline. Sophie touched a finger to remove it. She wouldn’t be the first one at the table, but she also wouldn’t be late. Her options were hiding between two enormous and overloaded dumpsters in the alley behind the restaurant or... Yup, she was in too much pain to go any farther, so that was her option and the one she took.

She scanned both sides of the alley to make sure no one was watching, then took her left shoe off and instantly sighed. Her pinkie toe was as round and red as a raspberry, and she rested her bare foot on top of her right. Her head fell back against the building’s stucco wall, and she closed her eyes as she wiggled her toes in the hot summer breeze.

Even though Sophie had published a book, worn her very best minidress, and used a flat iron to add waves to her hair, she was still a big wad of nerves. She hadn’t seen her ex in two years, and she wasn’t feeling confident.

Because Carla wasn’t all that easy to impress. She was a cardiologist to the stars, came from money, had traveled the world, and read literature with a capital L. She was almost as intimidating as the blank page.

“Sophie?”

She startled and her head pivoted toward Carla’s voice. There was her ex, Carla Shah, standing on the sidewalk with her glasses lowered down the bridge of her nose and her mouth open in confusion. Tall and slim, with a wavy chocolate-brown shoulder-length bob, she wore high-waisted silk shorts and a white button-down top. Her lacy black bra was just visible through the shirt, and the subtle sexiness made her even chicer.

Sophie attempted to remove herself from the dumpster situation but stumbled against one of the trash bins. A loose bag fell from the top and cascaded across her head and shoulders in a trash-filled shower.

“What the—” Sophie shouted. Her hands scrambled to brush away the pieces of paper, plastic containers, and old food. Her voice was thick with humiliation as she said, “I think there’s wasabi in my eyebrow. This isn’t happening, is it?”

“Unfortunately, it is.” And then there were Carla’s hands, which flew around Sophie’s face, clearing off trash and picking a used wet wipe out of her hair. “What were you doing back here?”

“I don’t know!” Sophie did know, though, but didn’t want to say Hiding from you. Once the trash was cleared from her body, including a packet of soy sauce she’d had to pluck from her cleavage, she moved away from the dumpsters and attempted to salvage the situation.

“Could we just pretend this never happened and start with me saying that I really love the new haircut?” Sophie asked.

And, to Sophie’s relief, Carla let out a generous chuckle, then closed the gap between them and pulled her in for a hug before she could even respond. The vanilla bourbon of her perfume surrounded Sophie as she hugged her back. Being wrapped in Carla’s arms felt familiar and safe, just as she’d remembered.

And as Carla guided them both into the restaurant, a firm hand on Sophie’s lower back, for a moment it felt like no time had passed. But then, she remembered Dash’s hand on her back as he...

“You okay?” Carla asked.

“Yup.” Sophie willed the memory from her thoughts and forced a smile. “More than okay.”

The restaurant was all low lighting meant to imitate the soft glow of candles, and chill hip-hop music played in the background. At the table next to them, two women posed for a selfie together while a waiter entered their order into an iPad.

Carla sat and crossed one long leg over the other, her skin gleaming as if buttered. Sophie could remember the feel of being caught up in those legs, but she dismissed the thought quickly.

“This place is secretly owned by Leo DiCaprio and impossible to get reservations for,” Carla said in a low tone. “But his cousin is a client.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal that she’d called in a favor to Leonardo DiCaprio’s cousin for their date.

Sophie leaned across the table, aware of how it would emphasize her cleavage, and said, “Since you were nice enough to get us in, then I’m going to be nice and let you order for us.”