“Who? And why?”
“The director’s assistant. It’s fucking ridiculous. Jealous bitch. I think she wanted to be considered for my role, but instead, she’s basically a glorified stagehand.” Palmer twists open a bottle of water and takes a hurried sip. “She even asked me for acting advice once. Can you believe that? Then she wants to stab me in the back by whining to the director when I’m late—I mean once. I was late once. Well, twice, but the other time I was sick, so that’s not my fault.”
I wrap my hands tightly around my jumbo novelty mug, which was a gag gift from Finn. It must be for soup because I’m certain it holds at least twenty-four ounces. He proudly showed up at my door one morning with this giant black mug with hot pink writing that reads: I had great sex in Las Vegas. He told me it made him think of me while he was at the store and he left with a snicker.
Needless to say, it’s now my favorite mug in the world. I smile into my cup as I ask Palmer, “Why would she be so devious after you helped her?”
“Helped her what?” Palmer snaps.
I swallow my sip of over-the-top sweet coffee. “You said you gave her advice…”
Palmer snorts. “No, I said she asked for advice. What I told her was to lose twenty pounds, save up ten grand, and buy herself a set of tits.”
I inhale and blow out a breath, debating whether this is even my battle to fight. “Should you say that kind of thing to people? You probably pissed her off and now she’s out to get you. Not everyone understands your humor.”
She raises one brow at me. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
Oh for the love of God. “I seriously doubt one grudge can get you fired from a role. How many episodes have you filmed now?”
“Five. And rumor has it, we’re about to be picked up by a big streaming network. I’m not technically allowed to say who, but if you can read between the lines, it’s Net—” She silently flicks the air in front of the screen.
Clever. “Really? That’s amazing.” I drop my jaw and force my eyes into wide, enthusiastic circles. “Why aren’t you more excited?” I click my manicured nails against the side of my mug and it apparently captures Palmer’s attention. She leans closer to the screen, peering at my nails.
“Are you wearing acrylic? You hate acrylics.”
“No, it’s actually this hybrid dip thing. My friend Lennox recommended it.” That’s quite literally my best description. Lennox and I went to the salon and all I know is this is somewhere between gel polish and acrylic, except it’s vegan, cruelty-free, and smells like pears. I examine my mint green nails, which are the color Finn suggested when he saw me off to my day date with Lennox a couple of days ago. And by suggested I mean he pulled me into his chest and whispered in my ear that my hand decorated in green would look beautiful wrapped around his cock.
“Who the hell is Lennox?”
“Finn’s cousin…and employee…and best friend…and sort of roommate, I’m not sure. She’s just always around.”
Palmer’s eyes narrow at the smile on my face. “Who’s Finn?”
Setting my mug aside, I then press my fingers against my eyelids. “The guy I’m sleeping with, Palmer. The guy I’ve told you about countless times now.”
“Hot tattoo guy? Your sex coach thing is still going on?” She tsks her tongue in a way that screams condescending. “That’s adorable.”
My smile instantly dissipates. The familiar feeling washes over me and I shrivel. What is it? It’s hard to put my finger on it… It is the special, passive-aggressive way Palmer keeps me in my place and reminds me that no matter what I have, no matter how shiny it is, it’s small…cute…adorable. And now that I’ve had a taste of support, it’s clear as day—she needs to do better. She’s capable of doing better.
“Does it make you feel good about yourself when you make me feel like that?”
“What?” Her light eyes widen as she tucks a strand of her platinum-blond hair behind her ears.
“That word, ‘adorable.’ It cheapens what I’m doing. Finn doesn’t pity me. I think he’s actually really into me. We’re good together. Better than good. We’re over-the-top, hot together. And even if it’s just for the summer, I feel alive. I feel bold and brave, and for the first time in…ever, I’m learning to appreciate my body exactly the way it is. If you love me, please don’t poke at that or make a mockery of it. If you don’t have something kind to say, just don’t say anything.”
I steady my breath, slow inhale, slow exhale, amidst my pounding heart. I hate having to stand up to Palmer, but not because of an impending screaming match. It’s because she’s sensitive. And by drawing boundaries…I just made her cry.
“Oh, Palmer,” I say, “please don’t cry—”
“No, no,” she says, sniffling. Her face instantly turns red and blotchy. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I think I’m just jealous. Lennox and Finn—they’re a big part of your life now and I’m not there to experience it with you. Adorable is just a word, Aves. I didn’t mean anything by it. And I’m so proud of you. You could’ve been a hot fucking mess after your breakup with Mason, but instead, you’ve come out on top. You always come out on top. I’m so sorry if I was mean—”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Thank you for listening and apologizing.” I know what she’s about to say next. It’s always the way we end these uncomfortable exchanges.
“I don’t deserve you,” she mumbles.
I follow up with my part, like a rehearsed scene. “Doesn’t matter, best friend. You’ve got me.”
The stone path that leads to Finn’s photography studio is beautiful…but uneven. I’ve nearly rolled my ankles three times in my heels by the time I make it to the clients’ entrance. Across the yard, I see the gate that leads to Dex’s hot tub. Finn’s backyard is beautiful and well-kept, but small—it’s about half the size of Dex’s.
Strangely enough, in the entire time we’ve been hanging out, I haven’t been inside his studio once. Finn always picks me up or meets me at Dex’s. Plus, he claims Lennox is always lurking at his home, and we wouldn’t have privacy. What a wonderful freaking change of pace. A man who puts in the effort. The next man I date most definitely needs this quality. There’s nothing better than opening the front door and seeing your hunky knight in armor smoldering at you.
As a break from our normal tradition, Finn asked me to meet him in his studio before we head to dinner with his dad. I’m barely in front of the glass doors before he greets me with a smile as he slides the door open. He clutches his heart.
“God, I love this dress on you. You look gorgeous.” He cocks an eyebrow and stares at me warningly.
“Thank you,” I say.
“There it is.” He winks at me. “Good girl.”
“I wish I had something new to wear for tonight, but it’s my only fancy dress.” I shrug. “Sorry, you’ve seen me in this before.”