Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I make a sympathetic sound. “Sorry. But sounds like he’s trying to be there for you at least. That’s good, right?”
Adrian groans dramatically as he sinks lower into the couch cushions. “Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe, but I wish he’d picked another time. There’s so much on the line, and I’m already going to be off my game.” He turns his head my way, adding in a pained voice, “Gigi broke up with me last night.”
I arch a brow, wondering why he’s surprised—Gigi is a social climber who’s cheated on him twice since they started dating. But he looks truly upset about it. “I’m sorry,” I say. “That’s hard.”
“It is,” he agrees. “And it looks bad. What kind of loser can’t come up with a plus-one for his own event?”
“I’m sure you could find one if you tried,” I say, glancing toward where Noelle and Ben are canoodling in the kitchen as they add cream and sugar to their coffees. “Have you asked Noelle if any of her friends from fashion school are free? A lot of them are your type. They have that starving model with giant anime eyes aesthetic you love.”
He makes a dismissive sound. “That’s not always my type.” He smiles before adding in a silkier voice, “Sometimes I like a natural beauty with wavy strawberry blond hair and a heart of gold.”
I cut a sharp look his way. “No.”
“Oh, come on, Syd,” he says, his grin widening. “It could be fun. You like dancing.”
“No,” I insist again, shaking my head.
“Yes, you do. And you wouldn’t have to hang out with me the whole night. Just do the red carpet and look interested when I talk to the journalists covering the event. As soon as we head inside, we can go our separate ways.”
“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” I ask. “The Nuh or the Oh?”
“And we can make it clear it isn’t a date,” he barrels on as if he hasn’t heard me, which he probably hasn’t. Once Adrian starts after something he wants, his listening skills go out the window. “I’ll tell the reporters we’re there as friends. Just two old college buddies hanging out and hoping to make a difference for the starving artists of the world. Don’t you want to help indie artists make the kind of money they deserve? To help traditionally marginalized people reach a worldwide, art-collecting audience and maybe kick a few old dead guys out of The Met while we’re at it?”
I sigh, but I can feel myself weakening. “Yes, of course, I do.” His app, aimed at connecting collectors with indie artists overlooked by snobby galleries and museums, is actually a good one.
No matter how cheesy he’s been while promoting it…
The thought reminds me of how little control I have over my eye-rolling when listening to Adrian pretend to be a humble genius. “But I can’t,” I insist. “I’m busy and tired and even if I weren’t, I have nothing to wear to a club.”
“It’s not a club,” he says. “It’s a swanky hotel event space and a night of music-infused performance art. There are going to be dancers, live painting, interactive theater… There will be so much going on, no one will notice a random nature girl wearing a cotton sundress.”
“Forget that. I have a smoking hot, black satin mini and stilettos you can wear, Syd,” Noelle pipes up from the kitchen. “Show off those long, sexy legs. Remind you there’s more to life than work and capitalism.” She bats her fake lashes. “Spend some time with your bestie, who didn’t get to hang out with you at all this summer, and needs more Sydney in her life?”
Ben nods, his emotional blue eyes finding mine. “She really missed you. A lot.”
I glance at Adrian, who folds his fingers together in a pleading fist and mouths, “Please?” then back to Noelle who is still giving me major puppy dog eyes.
Finally, I exhale and snap my laptop closed. “Okay, fine, but I’m going to need you all to promise to carry me home if I get blisters. I haven’t worn high heels in so long, I’ll probably be limping before midnight.”
Noelle cheers, Ben looks slightly less emotional, and Adrian leans over to pull me in for a hug. “Thank you, Syd. Seriously. I owe you one.” He leans back, a vulnerable smile curving his lips as he adds, “I’m glad we’re still friends.”
Softening, I say, “Me, too.”
And honestly…I am.
He might be a doofus, but he can’t help it. It’s who he’s always been.
It’s my fault that I used to see him with rosy, crush-colored glasses. I’m beginning to realize that’s a habit of mine. I want to see the best in people so badly that I ignore the red flags. Sometimes, I even ignore the rainbow ones, like with my first boyfriend in high school.