“Well, I need to head out,” she says. “Mom has apparently found another prospective husband for me.” The disgusted look on her face tells me this is the reason she’s so sick of the dating game. She wants her mother off her back as she attempts to set up Mel as much as possible.
“Again? What is this, the fourth one this month?” I ask, wondering how many eligible men her mother could find.
“Seems about right, they’re not all bad. I get free dinners out of them at least.”
I feel bad for her. Her mother has never approved of her “lifestyle” but she managed from what she tells me. We both come from wealthy backgrounds, each of us hating that scene more and more the older we got, hence our friendship.
We say our goodbyes as she heads home, and I head to the gym. The second I walk through the door, I notice Angela talking to one of the regulars. I watch her, with her perfect blonde hair that sits high on top of her head in a ponytail, a look that seems extremely put together yet effortless. Her outfit looks like it was made for Instagram models and not for working out at a gym. Yet the one thing I see as I watch her?
That photo.
That’s all I can see and I hate it. I hate that it’s getting to me, I hate that I care so much about a guy I claim to not want to date.
I shake my head and head over to my office. I wave to Henry as I pass, he reclines in his chair and goes back to whatever he was staring at on his computer screen.
“Well, well,” Angela sneers, leaning against the doorframe of my office as I take my seat at my desk. I look up to see a self-satisfied grin appear on her face.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, trying to seem busy when all I want to do is stab this pen I’m holding into her cheek.
“I heard you and Josh were talking yesterday. Wendy told me she saw you throw yourself at him like some kind of desperate teenager. Apparently, it was quite a sad sight.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, Wendy would say that. She’s her best friend and a regular here, so it doesn’t surprise me in the least that she ratted me out.
“Yeah, well, Wendy needs to get her eyes checked,” I say, turning on my computer and looking through the schedule and wondering if she’d notice if I put her on straight nights for the next two weeks.
“What do you want, Angela?” I ask again, hoping she gets sick of this and leaves me alone.
“Nothing, really. I just wanted you to know that my date with Josh last night went super late, so I’m gonna leave early since I’m so tired.”
I smirk because I know she’s trying to get a rise out of me, and although it’s working, she has no idea what I have in store for her.
“Actually, you’re working nights the next few days. I’ve been taking your shifts and I’m sick and tired of it, so you’ll be closing and I’ll be leaving early.”
“What!” she screams. “You can’t do that.”
I raise an eyebrow asking her to question me.
“I’m going to talk to Henry.”
I smile as I quickly send him a text explaining everything, letting him know he can’t budge on this.
“Go right ahead, now, unlike some people, I have actual work to do. So, if you’ll excuse me…” I take my eyes off her, ignoring her huffing as I try and distract myself from the image of her and Josh together.
9
Josh
I wake to the sound of my phone going off on the bedside table. I groan, looking at the open windows and still seeing darkness. This can’t be good. When I pick up my phone and see it’s my agent, my chest begins to ache because the only reason he ever calls this early is because some shit hit the fan.
“There better be a good reason for this phone call, Justin.” My voice is groggy from sleep, and when I take a peek at my clock and see that it isn’t even six in the morning, I silently curse.
“Sorry to wake you this early, I know it’s game day.”
I lay my head back on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to get to the point.
“Okay, I won’t sugarcoat this. Paparazzi were at the game last night.”
I roll my eyes because this is not news to me, I saw them there.
“And your point?” My anger is directed more at the fact that I would rather sleep for another few hours and not be on this phone call.
“Did you by chance hang out with a pretty blonde girl while you were there?” I crinkle my brow, wondering how they got a picture of Harper and me together, then the night comes back to me and I sit straight up. They didn’t get a picture of Harper; they got a picture of that other chick. What was her name? Angela?
“Fuck,” I curse, probably for a completely different reason than he thinks.
“I know it’s not that big of a deal to be photographed with a woman, especially at an event like that, but I wanted to let you know that this might cause more of a media circus than you usually receive. Might even get some questions when you do press today. I just wanted to warn you.”
I sigh, thankful he told me but silently wondering why this couldn’t have just been an email.
“Thanks for letting me know.” There’s a silence on the other end, and I take a breath, knowing what question is coming.
“Do I need to know anything about this girl? You dating her?”
A laugh bursts out of my chest at the thought of dating someone like Angela. Although she’s a perfectly
