by Hart, Staci
I laughed.
“But I just …” She sighed again. “I just had the best time.”
“So my assholery was ultimately helpful?”
She snorted. “Don’t go getting ideas. We all could have done without the mess. I would have gone home with him whether you’d been an asshole or not.” She perked up. “Oh, and I wanted to tell you — he helped me come up with a nickname too.”
I perked up, curious. “What is it?”
“Bebe. My middle name starts with a B too, so it works. What do you think?”
“It’s just right. That way if people spell it with two Bs, it’s still your initials.”
“I know! Martin is super smart. And he agreed I shouldn’t use my middle name.
I frowned. “Hang on, you already told Martin your secret middle name?”
But she laughed. “Next time you rock out my vagina, I’ll tell you too.”
I helped her finish setting up the bar and made my way back to Rose, relieved that all was well. And when Martin came by — with donuts for Bayleigh, and I swear she could have proposed to him on the spot — I apologized to him too, muffins in hand. He accepted, seeming relieved to have me on board at last, and with that, I was entirely forgiven. And as for Greg, who seemed to be blissfully unaware of all of it, I decided to look for another match for him, one better suited to him, without my own feelings clouding my judgment.
The day flew by after that, I’m sure in part because of the relief I felt. Tyler messaged me a few times throughout the day, once with a photo of him behind a mountain of papers with an overwhelmed, wide-eyed look on his face. He was also sure to let me know about when he thought he’d be home, so I wouldn’t worry.
I wondered again why in the world such a man would put up with the likes of me.
By the time the work day was done, I was thoroughly terrified of the impending shopping excursion, though thankful for Rose, who wisely insisted that we stop by the bar for whiskey shots on our way out. I wished I had a hip flask, though I’d probably only end up getting wasted and buying a dress with feathers on it or something. So with a deep sigh and a reassuring look from Rose, we were on our way into a nightmare of lace and chiffon.
* * *
Tyler
I pulled open the door to the bar to the sound of loungy electronic music, scanning the crowd, looking for Kyle. I felt a little underdressed — everyone already seemed ready for the night life, even though dusk had barely fallen. I found him leaning against the bar in a suit next to a pretty girl and her friend in sparkly dresses, one blonde, one brunette. They were all smiles, and by the way the girls were looking at him — starry-eyed and leaning toward him — I was certain he’d told them who he was.
He jerked his chin at me and pushed off the bar, extending a hand. I clasped it, and he pulled me into a hug.
“‘Sup, man?” he asked, smiling in a way that was infectious.
“Not much,” I answered, softened by the glimpse of the old Kyle.
He turned back to the girls. “I’d like you to meet my buddy Tyler.”
They lit up, and the blonde asked, “Oh, do you play for the Giants too?”
I smiled politely and opened my mouth to answer, but Kyle beat me to it.
“We used to play together at Nebraska. Tyler would have gone pro if hadn’t gotten hurt, though — no doubt. He was the absolute best.”
I sighed and tried to keep smiling as their faces turned to pity.
“Oh, my God. That’s so sad,” the brunette said.
I shrugged. “It wasn’t the end of the world.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t know, man.” He turned to the girls again. “When he was injured, I was there every step of the way. He lost everything that day.”
I kept still, trying to mask any discomfort I felt — which was a lot. “That was just one dream. I have plenty more where that came from.”
He laughed. “It’s true. I mean, it’s not like going pro was the only thing in the world. Just the best thing.”
I shifted, hating to hear the honesty of what he really thought about me. That I was second-rate. Not like I hadn’t known, but for him to say it aloud, even veiled, in front of strangers, was tiresome and aggravating.
“Come on. Let me get you a beer,” he said jovially.
“Please.” The word was dry.
The girls smiled at me, not seeming to notice. The blonde picked up her martini. “So, you’re an agent? Like in Jerry McGuire?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, sort of.”
“Do you represent anyone we’ve heard of?”
“Probably, we represent a lot of NFL players.
Kyle interjected. “He represents Pharaoh Carson.”
“My boss does, not me,” I added.
The blonde’s eyes went soft, and she touched her necklace. “Oh, I feel so bad, about him being an alcoholic and all. I hope rehab really works for him, you know?”
The brunette nodded knowingly. “We all have our vices.”
Kyle turned to me with my beer, and I took it, gratefully.
“Want to go get a table?” I asked, taking a long pull of it.
He looked downtrodden. “We were just getting to know the girls here.”
“Yeah, but I have a girlfriend.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Who, Cam?”
I gave him a look.
His face fell. “Oh. You’re serious.”
I turned to the girls. “It’s nice to meet you two. Have a good night.”
They watched after us sadly as we walked away, saying “Bye,” in unison.
We headed back to a table against the wall and took seats, and I tried to ignore Kyle’s watchful eyes.
I tried changing the subject, not wanting to talk to Kyle about Cam. “Did you hear from the twins?”
He made a face. “Man, I was not interested after all that. I mean, they were so embarrassing.”
“You’re not even the one who got pissed on.”
“Yeah, fuck that.” He took a drink. “I mean, a shot with twins was worth the tickets, but …” He shuddered.
I shook my head. “What a hero.”
“That’s exactly what Cam said.” He watched me for a beat. “So what’s up with you two?”
“I’m seeing her,” was all I was willing to offer.
He waited expectantly.
My brow dropped, anger flashing through me at the thought of explaining it in any detail. He wouldn’t understand. My tolerance for Kyle had become nonexistent, and in that moment, I saw it clearly for the first time. “What do you want me to say, man? I’m dating Cam. I’m speaking English, right?”
“It’s just weird. You and … Cam?”
I couldn’t help but notice his lip curled. “What’s so weird about it?”
He shrugged a big shoulder. “I dunno, dude. It’s just that she’s not your type. I mean, you used to live with a model.”
“A model who dumped me for being ‘too nice.’ What the fuck does that even mean?”
“It means she wants some guy to treat her like shit. I think chicks call it alpha or something. Anyway, how do you think I get so much play?”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” I shot, disgusted at the thought. “I don’t think I should have to apologize for having respect for someone I care about. And the real story is that she thought I was someone I’m not.”
“I dunno, maybe she just wanted you to get a little rough in the bedroom.” He made spanking motions with his hand.
I glared. “Yeah, that wasn’t the problem.”
“Well, then what was it?”
“She didn’t want me. She wanted money or a title or … I don’t know. I was just sort of blinded by her, I guess. She’s a damn good actress — she had me convinced she was in love with me for over a year.”
“Maybe she was just bored.”
“Who knows. Why am I explaining myself to you?”
He shook his head, the light gleaming off his blond hair. “Look, m
an. You can get chicks like Jessica and Gretchen with nothing but the snap of your fingers.” He snapped to demonstrate, as if a girl would appear. “Like when you bailed on going out with me Saturday to go on a date with Adrienne Fucking Christie. You could have had her, but you’re with … Cam.”
My brow dropped, jaw clenching. “Watch it, Kyle. I chose Cam over Adrienne — or anyone else for that matter — for a reason.”
“I miss you, man. We used to be the same, you and me. But now …” He looked me over sadly. “I don’t even think I know you anymore,” he said, in part to himself, I think. “I just don’t get it. Why her?
I almost got up and left, not really interested in defending myself to a guy I didn’t even know if I could call a friend anymore. But I stayed put if for no other reason than to defend her.
“Why did I pick Cam? I picked her because she’s smart. She’s beautiful and she’s funny. She doesn’t put up a front — what you see is exactly what you get with her. Don’t you know how much I want that? After everything …” I swallowed hard. “Cam is everything I’m looking for in a woman, and she makes me happy. Is that reason enough for you?”
His face was frozen. “Listen, I—”
“No, you listen. I don’t even know why I hang out with you anymore, not when you constantly make fun of my life, my friends. Like you have all your shit figured out. Well, I’m sorry I’m not more like you.” I pushed away from the table, jaw tense. “No, you know what? That’s a lie. I wouldn’t want to be like you even if I could because you don’t give a shit about anybody but yourself.” I stood and gave him one last look. “It’s lonely at the top, right? But maybe, just maybe, if you didn’t treat the rest of the world like you do, you wouldn’t be all alone.”
And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving him sitting stunned on the barstool, ready to be anywhere but where I was.
JUST BECAUSE
Cam
I wrinkled my nose at my reflection in the dressing room mirror of the high-end department store. “Do these mirrors add ten pounds or make you three inches shorter?”
Lily, Rose’s best friend, laughed from the other side of the door. “Both. Let’s see it.”
I opened the door with a look on my face that said I wasn’t amused.
“Hmm.” Rose folded an arm, touching her red lips with her other hand. “I hate that. It’s the color of creamed salmon.”
I motioned to the front of it. “What’s with this gathered twisty thing?”
Lily huffed, standing tall behind me, her blond hair long. “That gathered twisty thing is actually super flattering.” She was dressed impeccably, which compelled me to listen to her advice, but I looked back in the mirror and frowned.
Rose rolled her dark eyes. “Old ladies wear dresses like this because it hides stuff.”
“Like hot dogs and lies,” I said. “I do feel pretty old in this. I look like sexy frozen yogurt.”
“I don’t see what’s wrong with that,” Lily said.
“Salmon flavored frozen yogurt,” I added.
“It’s like a cougar dress,” Rose added. “You could really rake in some high school boys with this beauty.”
Lily threw her arms up in the air. “You guys are the worst. Next,” she sang, turning on her heel like the ballerina she was. I swear, she could look graceful scrubbing a toilet.
I sighed and walked back into the dressing room, looking over the mess I’d made. I’d tried on at least fifteen dresses, all of which were wrong for me in one way or another. I reached for a nude chiffon dress with an open, draped back. When I pulled it on, I looked like I was naked, and it was so tight, you could see everything. Like, I’m pretty sure I could see the hamburger I ate for lunch.
I opened the door, even less amused than the time before.
Rose laughed. “You look like those memes where people dress pugs in costumes.”
“I feel that level of shame. Right here.” I motioned to my heart. “And here.” I motioned to my butt.
Lily sighed. “That color just won’t work.”
“I look like I’m just wearing pantyhose over my entire body.”
Rose snorted, and Lily rolled her eyes again. “It’s not that bad.”
I turned around to look in the mirror. “I dunno, it’s pretty freaking bad, dude.”
“Ooooh,” Lily said and stepped in behind me. “The back of this is gorgeous. Look at this, Rose.”
She stepped in and nodded. “Really pretty. But she still looks like a flesh popsicle.”
“Or a meat tube.”
Rose wrinkled her nose and laughed. “Ew.”
“Next,” Lily said with a wave of her hand, and they left me alone with the cocktail dress nightmare I’d found myself in.
Every one of them had been wrong. Too poofy. Too naked. Too long, which happened a lot since I had the frame of a leprechaun. Some of the sleeveless ones were pretty, but with my luck and lack of girl skills, I was likely to lose a boob out of the top. Plus, if I took any selfies, I’d look naked. And if I was putting on mascara and eyeliner, I was taking a goddamn selfie.
It was one of the last dresses to try on, and I tried not to think about what would happen if I didn’t find one. Maybe I’d just back out. I could always claim my period. Or diarrhea. No one questions diarrhea, they just smile and look uncomfortable and tell you they hope you feel well soon before sending you on your way and washing their hands.
I stepped into the black dress with my expectations in the can, fully prepared for another epic failure, but when I slipped my arms in and looked in the mirror, I drew in a breath. It fit me almost perfectly — the neckline was high with cap sleeves, but from the neck to the sweetheart bodice, the fabric was sheer, gathered ever so slightly at the hem at the neck. The waist was fitted, but the skirt flowed away from hips without being too full or poofy.
I felt prettier than I’d maybe ever felt in my life. The dress transformed me, accentuated my small waist, the swing of the skirt hitting me mid-thigh, the angle from my bust down steep enough that I looked curvy.
“Cam? You okay?”
“I think this is it, guys,” I said as I opened the door.
Lily gasped, and Rose’s eyes were wide as they looked me up and down.
I stood there, waiting in the silence with sweaty palms with my eyes darting between them. “What? Is it bad?”
Rose shook her head. “No, Cam. This is very, very good.”
Lily motioned for me to come out to see in the big mirror. “God, look at your waist in this.”
I inspected my reflection. “Will you do me up in the back?”
Rose laughed and stepped behind me. “That’s what she said.” I felt her fingers against my back as she buttoned it up. “This is so pretty, Cam.”
“How the hell am I going to get in and out of it by myself?”
“You’re not,” Rose said. “But lucky for you, you have Tyler to do it for you. I’m sure he won’t mind,” she said with a smirk as she stepped back to look into the mirror. “Yeah, that’s it, all right.”
Buttoned up, it was even prettier. I laid my palm on my stomach, finding it a little hard to believe that the girl in the mirror was me. “This is insane. Why haven’t I ever done this before? I didn’t know I could look like … this.”
Lily laughed. “Just wait until you’ve got heels and makeup on.”
“It’s so dumb. I mean, it’s just an article of clothing, but I feel transformed,” I said in wonder. And then terror washed over me at the thought of fixing my own hair and walking in heels through a banquet hall with Tyler. I swallowed hard. “How am I going to do this? I don’t think I can do this.”
Rose cupped my shoulders. “You can do this. You’re a fantastic ladybeast, and you can do anything.”
Lily smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We’ll show you how to do your makeup super easy. You don’t need much. Your skin is amazing, your eyes are gigantic, and you have the thickest, longest lashes I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder
you don’t wear makeup. You don’t need it. But it’s nice when you’re dressed up, so you look together.”
“I very seriously doubt that I will ever look together.”
But she chuckled. “Trust me. You will. Now, get dressed and let’s hit the shoe department.”
I sighed. “Thank you for teaching me how to girl.”
“You already know how to girl. This is how you lady,” Rose said with a curtsy, and we laughed.
The rest of the evening was a whirl. First were shoes — black velvet pumps with a platform, which was supposed to help me walk easier, though I still thought I walked funny in them. Then we found a dainty gold bracelet and earrings that were two long slender bars connected by a chain, so one bar hung in front of my earlobe and the other in back. And then was the makeup counter.
I was told to keep it simple. The makeup I had was old enough that I couldn’t even remember when I got it, so I ended up with blush, mascara, liquid eyeliner, and a nude eyeshadow palette — which Lily gave me a quick rundown on and made it seem absolutely simple. The last thing was a red lip crayon called Bloody Valentine, which Rose assured me was her absolute favorite, and her lips always looked amazing, so I took her word on merit alone.
I walked out of the store with a bag full of goodies and a much lighter wallet, with a little bit of hope and a whole lot of plans, taking the girls by the hand in search of whiskey.
Tyler
The subway was packed, and so were my thoughts as I made my way home, still trying to calm down.
My biggest mistake was that I should have walked away from Kyle a long time ago. I should have let him go, even after everything he’d done for me. I could take his bullshit if it were just on me. But he brought Cam into it, and that wasn’t something I could forgive.
If nothing else, I wished I’d waited to hang out with him until after the cocktail party, made some excuse to avoid him. Because I’d see him again in twenty-four hours. If I didn’t see him for a year, I would have been satisfied, however improbable that was, given the nature of our tight-knitindustry.
I only hoped he had the good sense to leave us alone, which was the equivalent of wishing on a star to win the lottery.