Roommates (Soulmates #1)

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Roommates (Soulmates #1) Page 11

by Hazel Kelly


  I stacked the dry plates next to the sink. "The only reason I have the sickest job in New York is because I bluffed my way to the top."

  "I'm listening."

  I leaned on the counter and looked at her. "I got my first job with a bullshit resume and a twinkle in my eye."

  She rolled her eyes.

  "I'd never made a drink for anyone but myself, and I'd only submitted my application for a bartending license two hours earlier."

  "I get what you're saying, but maybe you're luckier than I am. Or more charming."

  I shook my head. "No. The only difference is that I didn't think I had a Plan B."

  "Plan A or bust then? That's your advice?"

  I shrugged. "You got a better idea?”

  Chapter 25: Jenny

  I knew Ethan was right.

  I couldn't give up just because one horny asshole tried to get in my pants, or rather, tried to get me interested in his.

  If anything, someday it would be nothing more than a story to put in the name and shame section of my tell all book.

  But as far as today was concerned, I had work to do.

  I set myself up on the couch and got ready to hunker down. If there was any truth to what Ethan had said, there were loads of casting calls going on that I could check out, maybe even today.

  Or perhaps tomorrow as I was still a little hungover.

  Regardless, I figured doing some research would help take the edge off- maybe not quite as well as that Irish coffee had- but still. And those eggs… How were they so much better than mine?

  I mean, I realize he'd been living on his own for a while now, but they were way better. Maybe he used more butter. After all, more butter was always the answer.

  Anyway, I wanted to have good news for him when he got back from collecting the car or going to the gym or whatever the heck he mumbled on the way out.

  If he was going to be supportive and let me stay a bit longer, I didn't want him to think I was a completely useless slouch.

  Besides, I didn't need my former professors to make my luck. I could do it myself. Heck, for all I knew, that shit yesterday happened for a reason, and I was never supposed to be Marilyn.

  The perfect role might be waiting around the corner for me.

  All I needed to do now was decide whether I could do better research if I nursed a small whiskey on the side.

  Then again, if impressing Ethan was one of my goals, sticking with water was probably the way to go.

  My phone rang as I opened my laptop, and I prayed it wasn't my mom calling to hear about yesterday.

  For once, my prayers were answered.

  "Hey."

  "God, you could sound happier to hear from me," Brandi said. "Is it my Midwest accent that's grating on you now that everyone's calling you dahling?"

  "I wish."

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah."

  "Really?" she asked. "Cause you don't sound okay, and you blew off my calls like a mean girl yesterday."

  "Sorry." I leaned back on the couch. "I'm just hungover."

  "From drinking with Amy Schumer?"

  "No. From drinking with Ethan."

  "Even better!"

  I winced. Her squealy tone was a bit more than I could take in my delicate state.

  "Did you go out to celebrate your big break?"

  I sighed. "Not exactly."

  "If you're telling me some idiot failed to recognize your obvious talent then I'm going to have to come out there and kick some ass."

  "Stay put. Ethan already offered."

  "What happened?"

  I bounced my crossed leg. "It wasn't that the director failed to recognize my talents."

  “Go on.”

  "It was that he was interested in talents I wasn't willing to demonstrate."

  "Like what?"

  "Like giving blowjobs."

  She gasped.

  I waited for her to play my words over in her head.

  "Wait, so he-"

  "Yeah."

  "And you-"

  "Got the fuck out of there faster than you can say Hail Mary."

  "Jesus."

  "I know. How fucked up is that? I was so pathetically keen to impress him, too, ya know?"

  "Did he just ask, like, point blank would you mind-"

  "He got in my face and unzipped his zipper."

  "Eww!"

  "And said if I did him a favor, he'd do me one."

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Yeah. I didn’t either. Which is just as well because it meant I wasn't at risk of opening my mouth and giving him the wrong idea."

  "So you're okay?"

  I shrugged. "Yes and no. But it's not like I'm the only woman that got sexually harassed in New York City yesterday."

  "True, but that sounds like the kind of lottery I wouldn't be in a hurry to win again."

  "No shit."

  "I'm so sorry, Jen. That's hideous."

  "Not as hideous as it would've been if I'd sucked his weasel dick."

  "Obviously." She exhaled into the phone so hard it sounded like she was holding it out the window of a moving car. "So now what?"

  "Now I'm going to see if I can find another audition to go to."

  "Maybe bring mace next time."

  "Not a bad idea."

  "How long are you going to stay out there?" she asked. "I mean, I know you were planning on getting discovered and never coming home anyway-"

  "That's not true."

  "Oh please. You were too big for this town by sophomore year."

  "Everyone is too big for our town."

  "Are you going to keep staying with Ethan?"

  "To be honest, I didn't want to impose, but he seems cool with it. Supportive even."

  "Maybe he's grown up."

  "He's definitely beefed up."

  "Don't torture me."

  I smiled.

  "Has he tried anything?"

  I furrowed my brow. "What do you mean?"

  "Don't be stupid."

  "I really don't know what you're talking about."

  "I'm talking about the crush he's always had on you."

  "He never had a crush on me."

  "Oh please. No teenage boy is that mean to a teenage girl unless he's too sprung to know what's good for him."

  "Or unless he's a bully."

  "Which Ethan isn't. Except to you."

  "That was a long time ago."

  "It's not a theory, Jen. It's true whether you want to acknowledge it or not."

  "So what?" I thought of the kiss, thought of how long he held me and made my lips feel like the center of the world. "Even if it were true, it's not like he would do anything about it. Not like he could."

  "Why? Cause of all the respect he has for your parents? Yeah right. I think he definitely could."

  I swallowed.

  "And I think he would too if-"

  "If what?"

  "If he thought you were up for it."

  "Which I'm not."

  "Hey. Lie to yourself all you want, but don't fucking lie to me. You liked him before your parents got together and that never went away."

  "Says you."

  "Whatever. All I’m saying is that I think if all you do out there is investigate your career options, you're missing a trick."

  "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

  "Look. Don't get me wrong. If Ethan ever looked at me the way he looks at you even once, I already would've thrown myself at him so hard I would’ve stuck, but he never did. And he's a cool guy and insanely hot-"

  "And my stepbrother, remember?"

  "So what?"

  I squeezed my eyes shut. "What do you mean so what?"

  "I mean, I get why that stopped you before so many times. But you're not trapped in this nosy little town anymore. You graduated, and you're probably never going to live with your parents again."

  "Fingers crossed."

  "But you're always going to wonder about him," she said. "You're always going
to wonder if the one that got away is the same one that's been within arm’s reach this whole time."

  I sighed.

  "And if you aren't ready to admit that out loud, that's okay. But you need to realize that this is your chance to finally find out if there's something there."

  "Why didn't you say any of this before?"

  "Because," she said. "What good would it have done? You were thousands of miles apart and still living in fear of your folks. But you’re not now. And even if it's just for five minutes, aren’t you curious to know if that intense anger he has towards you is really just mutated passion?"

  "And what if it is?" I asked. "What if you're right and he's crazy about me and doesn't give a shit what anyone has to say about it?"

  "Then I'll envy you even more than I already do."

  Chapter 26: Ethan

  She was falling all over me last night.

  Not that I minded.

  On the contrary, she was so jubilantly drunk that I had half a mind to spill my guts, especially when she started repeating herself so much that I knew she wouldn't even remember.

  Just the idea of confessing that I'd never had a sisterly thought about her in my whole life made me feel relieved. I couldn't imagine how freeing it would be to get the secret off my chest.

  Unless, of course, it made her uncomfortable. Because that was the last thing I wanted. I’d rather take my feelings to the grave then upset her.

  In fact, the thought of her being upset made me so unhappy I can only assume it was the reason I ended up drumming my fingers on the steering wheel outside Apple Seed Studios, trying to decide if I was going to pay the criminal casting director a visit.

  So far, all I'd seen were young dancers and actors going in and out of the building. Or at least I had to assume that's what they were because I'd never seen so many people in leg warmers reading stapled pages while walking in all my life.

  I took a deep breath, glanced at the clock, and leaned back in my seat.

  Jen was so much prettier than the girls disappearing into the building ahead. She had a timeless grace about her that I never tired of.

  She could hold your attention like a flower in a gentle breeze. Delicate, but strong. God I was so proud of her for telling that guy where to stick it yesterday.

  When we were walking home last night, she bent over in the middle of the sidewalk and took her shoes off. I suppose that's when I knew she was a few margaritas past memory recall.

  And as soon as we got in the cab, she curled up into a ball and laid down in my lap. I pulled her hair out of her face with my fingertips and dragged them gently across her temple.

  I couldn't help it.

  It would be like holding one of my favorite paintings from the MoMA in my lap and not touching it.

  When we got back to my building, I carried her from the elevator to the door, setting her down against the wall so I could make sure she didn't stumble as I let us in.

  And as soon as she stepped inside, she turned, put her hands against my chest, and leaned into me.

  I held her against me, kissed her forehead, and inhaled. Her hair smelled like candy apples.

  She didn't put up a fuss when I grabbed her pajamas and brought her to my room.

  Then I closed the door and lied awake on the couch for hours, wondering how the hell I was going to tell her that being around her was torturous for me and that I desperately wanted her to stay.

  Somehow I'd managed that last part this morning.

  But when she asked if anything happened, I didn't tell her the whole truth.

  Cause if I had, she would already know that I'd fallen for every sexy, brave inch of her, and that I didn't give a fuck what anyone else had to say about it.

  Least of all my dad.

  After all, he'd had two loves in his life.

  Just like me.

  Except I'd always believed I had to keep my affections for both hidden… though I was starting to think the real source of my shame was the fact that I'd put off pursuing them both for so long.

  I leaned forward, rested my forehead on the steering wheel, and clenched my jaw, knowing that if I got within two feet of the motherfucker who came onto her yesterday, there was a very good chance I wouldn't waste the trip.

  Once my fist made contact with his face, I'd be off, just like I was in all those fights I got into on the playground after my mom died. Except I was a lot bigger now.

  And while I was giddy at the thought that I could send that guy to the hospital with two wrists so broken he'd never touch a hair on another trusting young woman's head again, the longer I sat there, the more I realized that not only was I not that guy anymore, but that I didn't want to be.

  Plus, what would it accomplish?

  Sure, he'd get a fraction of what he deserved, but Jenny would probably be disappointed in me considering she knew how many fucking anger management courses I've been subjected to in the past.

  What's more, it wouldn't help her get ahead. Nor me. I could jeopardize my job and my relationship with my friends, including my own boss. Worst of all, it might make Jenny uneasy, and she didn’t deserve that.

  Besides, she wasn't a nerdy kid anymore. My rage was no use to her.

  What she needed was my support, which I'd tried to lend her this morning. And I thought I'd done a decent job, too, whereas punching this guy's lights out would probably be a step backwards.

  I flipped my visor down to block the view of the studio's entrance and pulled out my phone.

  Christophe answered on the third ring.

  "I need some advice."

  He laughed. "Legal or sexual?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Legal."

  "Shoot."

  "How do you go after a sexual predator?"

  "I need more information."

  I sighed. "My stepsister got assaulted on a casting call yesterday. The guy basically whipped it out and asked her to open wide."

  "Jesus. Even I'm smoother than that."

  "I've heard mixed opinions."

  "So what do you want to know? How to see justice done?"

  "Pretty much."

  "Can I assume you're calling because you've wisely decided not to take matters into your own hands?"

  "You know me so well."

  "Right. In that case, there are two options."

  "Go on."

  "We can get a bunch of testimonials from individuals who've suffered the same injustice."

  "And if that's not an option?"

  "You can file a complaint with the police," he said. "Which is useless, but it might help you sleep better at night."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Not the information you were looking for, I take it?"

  I shrugged. "I thought you were more legit than that. I thought you'd have a plan to bug the guy's office and set a trap."

  "I don't play a lawyer on TV, Ethan. I really am one."

  "Mmm."

  "Sorry to disappoint."

  "So no full scale investigation?"

  "Cause some asswipe looked at your sister funny?"

  "Stepsister."

  "Regardless, no can do."

  I sighed.

  "Though you should file a complaint with the police, if only to get the guy on their radar."

  "Will do."

  "Anything else I can help you with?"

  I was about to say no when I had an idea. "Actually, there is."

  "Shoot."

  "You know how you were saying your uncle has a talent agency?"

  "Yeah."

  "Think you could send me the details?" I asked.

  "Would you consider it a personal favor for which you'd owe me one?"

  "Sure."

  "No problem," he said. "Give me till the end of the day, and I'll give him a heads up."

  "Thanks, clown."

  "Anytime."

  I turned the phone off, feeling even better than if I'd done what I went there to do.

  Now I was just two more calls away from another epic afte
rnoon.

  Chapter 27: Jenny

  I was checking the location of my leads on Google Maps when he called, and the flutter of warmth I felt in my chest when his name popped up on the screen made me want to doodle his name in pink pen.

  "How's the head?" he asked.

  "Pretty useless."

  "You back in bed?"

  My eyes grew wide. Did he really think I would just lounge around in his bed when he wasn't here?

  How inappropriate would that be?!

  More inappropriate than the fact that I'd smelled his pillow that morning?

  "No." Or was I in his bed? Was the couch his bed now? "I've been scouring the internet to find out what other casting calls are going on and-"

  "Any joy?"

  I shrugged. "Some. It's hard to tell if I'm not familiar with the production. For example, one of the shows sounds really vague. I think I'd be auditioning for the roll of some sort of spice?"

  "Like frankincense and myrrh or more like baby and scary?"

  "The former, actually. And I didn't realize you were a fan of the Spice Girls?"

  "I'm not," he said. "I only know that because they came into the club last fall."

  "Damn. Really?"

  "Yeah. I could barely contain my excitement."

  I smiled. "What did they drink?"

  "Would you rather I make something up or admit that I don't remember?"

  "Mmm. I suppose the truth is better."

  "Always or-"

  "Always," I said, feeling like a huge hypocrite.

  "Well then- while we're on the topic of honesty- I have some good news."

  "I could use some," I said. "Can I guess?" What was I twelve? Was I just that desperate to keep him on the phone?

  "Sure."

  "You've found a cure for hangovers?"

  "I'm afraid the closest I've gotten is that drink I made you this morning."

  I pursed my lips. "You won the lottery and you’re dying to produce my first indie flick."

  "You got a script?"

  "No."

  "I never produce without a script."

  I sighed.

  "You got us tickets to Wicked."

  "Seriously?"

  I scrunched my face.

  "Do you really think that's what it is?"

  "A girl can dream."

  "You like musicals?"

  "I like live theater of any kind."

  "I bet you a million dollars that you don't."

 

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