by Harper Bliss
Charlie drank from her champagne to calm her nerves. Compared to this, dancing with Ava had been easy. “My extensive research has shown that you lick a spoon with more abandon off camera,” Charlie said, trying very hard to keep her gaze on Ava. She looked away nonetheless.
“I do everything with more abandon off camera. But…” Ava paused to sip from her drink. “When we start shooting the next season, I’ll try to throw in a really good spoon lick for you, Charlie.” Ava laughed, and the sound was so pleasing to the ear, Charlie wanted to make her laugh again. Pronto.
“You can be sure I’ll be watching.”
“I wanted to ask you a more serious question, actually,” Ava said, but kept the smile on her face.
Charlie slanted her head in anticipation.
“You’re with Lynch & Archer, aren’t you? They’ve offered me a very generous contract to write a book.”
“Really? That’s great news.”
“I don’t know if I want to do it. Every other person who has been on TV for more than five minutes has a book out these days. At the risk of sounding snobbish… I like literature. Not flimsy celebrity memoirs.” Ava pushed herself up from the lounger. Perhaps the direction this conversation was taking warranted a less frivolous pose.
“I, on the other hand, do love a juicy memoir,” Charlie said.
“You’re not the only one. Those books sell like hot cakes, which makes the proposal very tempting, but… I don’t know. I guess I want to offer something more. Something with a bit more depth.”
“If you’re writing the book, you can give it as much depth as you like,” Charlie said.
“But nobody wants to read that. All everybody wants is for me to dish on my past relationships and to find out about how I made it in Hollywood.” Ava scrunched her lips together.
Charlie would love to read Ava’s memoir. “You’ll have to add some never-before-revealed secrets as well, of course, to help the marketing go viral.”
“Of course.” Ava nodded, but the smile was back on her face. “Well, this is a first world problem.”
“This whole town is a first world problem,” Charlie said.
“There you are.” Sandra appeared next to them. “You don’t want to miss Abe cutting into a gigantic cake in the shape of a TV.”
“A 60-inch flat screen, I hope?” Charlie asked.
“That man loves television. That’s all I can say,” Sandra said earnestly.
Ava rose and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Let’s continue this conversation later.”
They all walked back to where the party was happening. Sandra hadn’t lied. A huge TV-shaped cake with EBC’s logo on the screen stood in the middle of the living room.
Charlie found Liz again and, for the remainder of the night, every time she looked for Ava, she was talking to someone else. Charlie didn’t want to be that person who cut into a conversation between strangers. They would need to find another time to continue their own chat. Charlie couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER FIVE
Charlie was sitting in Nick and Jason’s back yard, when Nick asked, “What do you mean you just ran into Ava at a party? Which party and when?” Nick tapped his fingers on the tabletop nervously.
Charlie loved how captive an audience he was—especially when it came to matters like these. She told him about the EBC party at Abe Eisenberg’s house, then added, “We had a lovely chat.” Charlie had replayed the part of the evening she’d spent with Ava over and over in her head a million times since then. “And I might be very, very wrong about this, but… I couldn’t shake the impression she was flirting with me a little.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “Well, you might be right, Charlie. Because look at this.” Nick tapped on his phone screen a few times, then presented it to Charlie.
Could you pass me Charlie Cross’s number, please, Nickie?
“Oh… My… God!” Charlie gave her best desperate housewife impression. “When did she send this?”
“Just before you arrived. Jason is my witness. I would never keep such an important development from you for longer than thirty seconds, but since you were coming over, I thought it could wait until you were here.” He swirled the red wine in his glass.
“Have you texted anything back?”
“No. I wanted to ask you first. This is Hollywood, darling. Private telephone numbers are a precious commodity.”
Charlie thought she might hyperventilate. “Send it to her now, for Christ’s sake.”
“Why is this so thrilling?” Jason asked. “I’m getting all excited as well, Charlie.”
Charlie had to stop herself from going into directions too implausible to fathom. “She is one hundred percent straight, right?” she blurted out in response.
Nick rolled his eyes. “You and your silly percentages.” He finally released his fingers from around the stem of his glass. “When are you going to let that go? You should know better. Not to mention that it’s highly disrespectful to a lot of people.”
“Why?” Charlie asked. “It’s my own private system. I’m not judging anyone with it, only protecting myself.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” Nick fixed her with a stern stare. “Here’s the deal. No more talk of percentages tonight and I’ll send Ava your number straightaway—no pun intended.”
“Yes, please do.” Charlie all but shouted. She didn’t know what to do with herself. Apart from, perhaps, burst out of her skin with elation. Nick typed on his phone for a few seconds.
“There. Done.”
Charlie couldn’t keep her eyes off his phone in case it lit up with a reply.
“Try to keep cool, honey,” Nick said. “Besides, Jason has news. It’s not all about you, you know?”
Charlie looked at Jason. He was so tall and dark. If Nick could snag a man that handsome, why should Charlie not give in—if only for a fraction of a second—to a fantasy of her by Ava Castaneda’s side? This city was made of fantasies. And she needed something to do in her spare time, in those lonely hours before falling asleep at night. It beat dredging up memories of her bygone life with Jo.
“I got back from New York this morning…” He paused strategically.
Charlie already knew where this conversation was headed, but she was in an excellent mood—her gaze still trained on Nick’s phone—and suppressed the obligatory sigh that always accompanied news of Jo.
“Where I met up with Jo, as I always do.”
Nick and Jason had been Jo’s friends first. She had befriended Jason when they’d become colleagues ten years ago. Despite the ugliness of their breakup and Charlie’s firm conviction that none of it had been her fault, Charlie could hardly hold it against Jason that he kept in touch with her ex.
“Her firm wants to send her to LA for a few months. She designed Alex Duffy’s penthouse on Park Avenue, and he requested her personally to update his house in the Hills.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Charlie’s good mood was melting like snow in the LA sun. “No way is she coming here.”
“It’s hardly something she can refuse,” Nick said. “She has an in with the big money. She’d be a fool to say no.”
“What about me?”
“What about you?” Nick said. Jason would never say something like that to her. He might think it, but he’d never voice it out loud. “It’s been nearly ten months since you broke up.”
Nine months and twenty days, to be exact. She looked at Jason instead, hoping to find some sympathy.
“Jo did ask if I thought you would be comfortable with it.”
“I hope you said no.” Charlie was getting caught in the familiar self-pity spiral again.
“Sweetie, it’s not up to you. You can’t deny your ex such a huge boost to her career just because your feelings might get the teensiest bit hurt when she’s in town. Grow up.”
Jason put a hand on Nick’s arm. “Lay off her, honey.”
“No, Jase, come on. How long has this been going on?” Nick looked from Ja
son to Charlie. “Yes, she broke up with you. Yes, she’s in a relationship with a man now. These things happen. Such is life. And don’t for one more second keep on pretending that you had nothing to do with your relationship falling apart. You basically drove her into Christian’s arms.”
Charlie just sat there, her lips parted in an astounded crack. Had Nick actually said these things to her? Or had she entered a parallel universe, where the past week—the first week since arriving in LA when things were going her way—had not happened. Where her ex was coming to town and the person she considered her best friend had just said it was her fault Jo had gone back to men?
“Don’t mind him, Charlie,” Jason, always the peacemaker, said, “he’s a bit on edge.” He leaned in. “He didn’t get the part in Dream Makers. It went to Patrick Girardeau instead.”
“Fucking French are taking over this town,” Nick mumbled. He’d had high hopes to become a part of that cast, but it didn’t excuse what he said about Charlie being the main cause of her relationship with Jo failing.
“I’m so sorry, Nickie. Why didn’t you say?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Some of us prefer to sulk in silence. He’ll get over it.” Jason slung an arm over Nick’s shoulders. “After all, he has me.”
Nick let his head drop onto Jason’s shoulder. Charlie thought it best not to push him. She’d ask him later about his true feelings about the breakup.
Jason directed his attention to Charlie again. “Jo will be flying over next week to take a first look at the house. I thought you should know she’ll be in town, okay?”
“Is she staying with you?” Charlie asked. She loved Nick and Jason’s place, with its soulful, impeccable interior and its small, lush garden. It was a place where she could relax away from bars, and other women, and people’s expectations. And her own destructive thoughts.
“The company’s putting her in a hotel. Plus, if she does decide to take the job, it will only be temporary. She has her life in New York.”
Her life without me, with our cats and that hideously bearded man. “Whatever.” Charlie wasn’t ready to be the bigger person about this yet. Yet, she pondered. Could she even still use that word and have some credibility left after almost ten months? It wasn’t that she was totally hung-up on Jo. Time had worked its magic and healed some wounds. It was just the way it all played out that left a really foul taste in her mouth.
“Charlie, I’m sorry,” Nick said. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“Never mind.” Charlie’s gaze drifted from Nick’s distraught face to his phone, which, just then, lit up.
“Oh my God,” Charlie shrieked. “Is it from her?”
Nick reached for his phone and read the message. “Sorry, dear. It’s from my agent. More words of consolation.”
Charlie started to wonder what kind of friend she was if Nick didn’t feel comfortable sharing bad news with her.
“So?” Jason said while Nick messaged his agent back, his eyebrows arched in an inquisitive bow. “I hear you joined a softball team? Any people of interest?”
Charlie had briefly stopped by “her” team’s league game on Sunday morning, but her mind had been filled to the brim with thoughts and images of Ava, so she hadn’t lingered. Although, during a break, Liz had assured her that after practice next Wednesday, she could join the game against the Mound Mermaids.
“I don’t know yet.” Charlie shrugged. “Could be.” The thought of Jo spending time in LA would perhaps force her to be a bit more open-minded about dating. Josie was cute.
The buzzing of her phone startled her. She quickly fished it out of her pocket.
A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen. Charlie didn’t give her phone number out freely, so it could only be one person. Her heart raced as she slid her thumb across the screen to unlock the phone.
How about that cooking lesson? (Meaning you can watch while I cook for you.) ;-) Ava C.
Too excited to speak, Charlie showed her phone to Nick and Jason. Neither one of them commented for several long seconds. Her fingers trembled so hard she nearly dropped her phone when she took it back and stared at the message a bit longer.
“How long should I wait to reply?”
“There’s really no use in pretending you’re going to play this cool,” Nick said. “Say ‘Yes, whenever you’re free’ already.”
“I have social obligations,” Charlie said jokingly.
“Yes, she has softball now.” Jason nodded sagely.
They all laughed. It seemed like Nick and Jason were as nervous as Charlie.
“This is crazy.” Charlie still couldn’t believe she had a message from Ava Castaneda on her phone.
“By the way, Miss Cross, you never mentioned anything about a cooking lesson,” Nick scolded her. “Don’t you know by now that you must keep me informed about these things?”
“We engaged in some banter when I helped her with dessert. I admitted to never using my kitchen. She offered to teach me the basics.”
Nick brought his hands to his face dramatically, his mouth agape between his splayed fingers. “That’s it,” he said, after flipping his hands away again. “All it took was a few hours in your presence, and you’ve erased at least one percent of her heterosexuality.”
Jason slapped his husband on the back of the head playfully. “Give her a break. This is a huge moment for Charlie.”
Charlie ignored Nick’s last comment and started typing a reply. She erased the first three attempts.
“You’re a writer. Say something cool and full of double entendres.” Nick couldn’t leave it alone.
“Writing has nothing to do with composing the perfect dinner-for-two acceptance text,” Charlie replied. “This is much harder.”
“And you’ll even get to watch her in action.” Nick mimicked licking a spoon. “Oh my.”
I would love that. I’m free this weekend.
Charlie thought it best to keep things simple and pressed send.
* * *
On the way home, Charlie had to resist the urge to pinch herself several times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She had a date with Ava Castaneda on Friday evening. She would be in Ava’s house, watching Ava cook, and then eating with Ava while overlooking the ocean.
It was only Tuesday. What was she going to do with herself until then?
Charlie had barely made it through the door of her house, when her phone buzzed again. Another message from Ava.
I’m still reading Crying Rivers. It’s still different from the first time I read it.
A huge grin spread across Charlie’s face. She plopped down in the sofa and tried to come up with a suitable response.
How many spoons will you lick for me on Friday?
Charlie wasn’t entirely sure Ava had been flirting with her at the party last Thursday—it could just be her personality—but Charlie was certain that she was entering the realm of flirty texting. It was so much easier to keep her cool over the phone. Besides, Ava was straight. And sometimes, befriending someone required a little platonic flirting.
It took a while for Ava to respond. To keep herself from concluding that she’d been too forward with her last message, Charlie checked Ava’s Instagram account to see if anything new had appeared since the last time she’d visited. Ava had posted an arty picture of her dinner—roast chicken had never looked so scrumptious.
Just as Charlie pressed the heart-shaped button icon to like Ava’s picture, her phone rang. The sudden chime startled Charlie so much, she dropped the phone in her lap. When she picked it up, Ava Castaneda lit up the screen in big, bright letters.
“Hello,” Charlie said, trying to sound much more confident than she felt.
“I can lick as many as you want, Charlie,” Ava said, “but that’s the second time you’ve abruptly changed the subject as soon as I mentioned Crying Rivers. Would you like to talk about it?”
“I guess talking to you is too distracting,
” Charlie said.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that? And you’re forbidden to mention the word spoon.”
Was this flirting? Was this something else?“You’re right,” Charlie confessed. “I don’t enjoy talking about it very much. But, speaking of books… your potential one to be more precise. Why don’t you use the cooking angle? Your Instagram is full of the most mouthwatering pictures of food. You can tell your life story through food anecdotes. I assume you have plenty of those.” Charlie was just improvising, and trying not to come across too flirty.
“I’ve actually thought about doing something food-related, but not quite like this. Thank you, Charlie.”
“You’re welcome.” Charlie relaxed a little.
“I look forward to having you over on Friday,” Ava said. “And I’ll try not to mention your book.” She chuckled into the telephone.
After this call, Charlie would surely need a counseling session with both Liz and Nick. “And I won’t so much as glance at a spoon.”
“We’ll see about that,” Ava said. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight.” They hung up and Charlie sat staring at her phone for a good long while. She wasn’t that dense. This was flirting. Ava was flirting with her and in a few days Charlie would have dinner at her gorgeous house in Malibu. Charlie was simultaneously elated and scared to death.
She went on Instagram again and checked her own account—if she checked Ava’s one more time she surely wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. She scrolled through her notifications and, to her surprise, Ava had commented on one of Charlie’s pictures. It was a snapshot of the paperback version of the latest Underground book. Crying Rivers is still my favorite.
CHAPTER SIX
“Is it a date?” Liz asked with a very serious expression on her face.