“The switch!” I exclaim loudly, trying to feel like I can blend back in here.
“The switch!” she echoes, plucking a cherry from the top of her glass and biting into it. “And the strangest three months of my life.”
I toast along, but I hear the past tense in her tone. “So . . . You haven’t heard from Ryan?”
Em sighs. “Nope, and I doubt I ever will.”
“You could call him, you know,” I suggest, watching her carefully. “Or email, or even just text.”
She shrugs kind of listlessly. “It won’t make a difference; there’s no point. God, how pathetic am I? First Sebastian, then Sam, and finally Ryan. I’m doomed to be alone.”
“Who was this Sebastian guy, anyway?” I take a sip of my drink. “Maybe I met him.”
“You would have definitely. He lives right next door to me.”
I choke.
“No way!” Spluttering, I reach for a wad of napkins and dab at my streaming nose. “Robin Thicke dude is your ex?”
Em looks puzzled. “I gave him that CD for Christmas.”
I laugh, not believing this. “Oh god, honey. You are so better off without him. I hate to break it to you, but he slept with, like, three different girls every week.”
Her mouth drops open. “Really?”
“Honest.” I shake my head, tears still in my eyes. “And none of them sounded happy, if you know what I mean.”
“Tash!”
“I heard everything,” I swear. “I wish to god I hadn’t, but that’s the truth.”
She presses her lips together, like she’s trying not to laugh.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just . . . I suppose it was a lucky escape.” She finally grins. “That I didn’t sleep with him, I mean. If what you heard was true.”
We fall about in hysterics, laughing so hard I nearly lose my balance and fall off my seat.
“And I never met him,” I gasp, shoulders shaking. “I know what noise he makes when —” I can’t even get the words out. “But I never even laid eyes on him!”
“Whoa there.” The guy behind me grabs my arm just before I slip to the floor. “Easy does it.”
“Thanks!” I gasp, gripping on to the rim of the bar for safety.
“No problem.” He flashes a grin at me, blond and cute and eager looking.
I turn back to Em.
“Go on,” she whispers. “Back on the horse, remember?” I shrug, but she widens her eyes and kicks me, hard.
“Oww!” I hiss, but she doesn’t quit, so with a sigh, I swivel back to him.
“Hey,” I start, since it’s clear Em won’t be happy with anything less than a conversation. “Thanks again for helping me out.”
“That’s cool.” He runs one palm over the top of his head, like he’s checking every tuft of sun-bronzed hair is in place. “These places can get way out of control.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod, immediately bored. I think of Will and feel that clench again in my chest, but Will is an ocean away and out of my life.
“Dude!” Suddenly another guy appears. He’s short and stocky like a baseball player, with a beer in his hand and wearing a pale-blue shirt soaked with sweat. “You know who this is, right?” He looks at me, mouth wide open. “It’s her. You know, from the video. With what’s-his-name.”
Blond Boy’s eyes slowly spark. “No way, it is you!”
I feel Em’s hand on my back. She’s already standing, ready to go, but I don’t move. I knew this was coming, but I figured I’d be panicked, sick, like I’ve always been.
No more.
“You liked the show?” I ask, calmly taking another drink. It’s strange, but I don’t feel threatened or exposed.
“Totally!” They snigger, kind of disbelieving. “Man, you were so hot.”
“I played that clip, like, all the time.”
“Lovely,” I say, totally sarcastic, but they’re too busy panting to notice.
“And when you did that twisty thing, with your hips?” It only took a moment for the cute, chivalrous one to become a leering jackass. “I tried to make my girlfriend watch, but she dumped my ass. Frigid bitch.”
“Dude, I remember!”
“Ha, I know, right!”
I roll my eyes at Em. She’s watching me, all concerned, but I’m fine. Finally.
“So, you, like, up for a replay?” They look at me, only part joking.
“I’ve got, like, a hundred bucks on me,” Jock Guy adds.
I raise my eyebrows.
“I’ve got another two hundred,” Blond Boy says quickly. Like it makes a difference.
“You know what . . . ?” I pause, biting my lip as I pretend to think over their amazing offer. They lean closer.
“No.”
And then I take both our drinks and upend the glasses over their heads.
“Let’s go, Em.” Slipping down from my stool, I take my purse and shoot a look back at the guys. They’re soaked, sickly sweet syrup dripping down their fronts, and Blond Boy even has a paper umbrella lodged in his now-not-so-perfect hair. I laugh. “I always like to meet my fans,” I yell behind us as Em tows me away.
And then I blow them a kiss.
30
We’re still laughing by the time we get back to the hotel, tripping over our heels and clinging to one another in glee.
“And the look on their faces . . . !” I gasp, fumbling in my clutch bag for the room card.
“I know!” Tash sweeps into the room and flings herself on one of the beds triumphantly. “And I didn’t freak out, not at all.”
“You were amazing,” I agree, pulling my pajamas from my case and slipping into the bathroom to change. “You see?” I call through the door. “I knew you could adjust to this sort of scene again.”
“I guess I can.” When I come back into the room, Tash is sitting cross-legged, munching on a handful of extortionate minibar peanuts. She pauses to lick salt from the corner of her mouth, a giddy grin still on her face. “You know who they looked like? Professor Elliot, right after I called her a bad feminist.”
I giggle, rummaging in my suitcase for my wash bag. “I still can’t believe she slagged you off to Aldridge — and then you got that offer, anyway.”
“Totally.” Tash beams. “Oooh, is that your movie?” Spying a manila envelope buried among my clothes, she reaches over and takes the small package.