“This is hotter than the Skinemax movies my Aunt Rosie used to watch,” Livia said, fanning herself as she leaned back in her chair. “I mean, usually I’m more into being the domineering one,” she added, tilting her head side to side. “But to each their own.”
“It’s not hot. It’s maddening,” I told her, taking an angry sip from my cocktail. We had escaped the chaos of our Tuesday for a long overdue bestie lunch at a spot near the stadium. Vince was in a film meeting with the team for at least another hour, which meant there was nothing to post about.
“You are a shit liar.”
“He posted a photo of us,” I barked at her. “And called me his girl.”
“Oh, no!” Livia gasped, sitting up straighter and pressing her hand to her chest like she was appalled. “What a jerk, liking you so much he wants to claim you. And to be hot and rich, too? With a nice cock? God, I don’t know how you’re surviving.”
She sat back with a roll of her eyes as I flicked her off, looking around to make sure none of the other diners were shocked by my best friend’s casual use of the word cock.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t be just as upset.”
“Yeah, well, that’s different. I don’t date hockey players.”
“Because you’re too busy making them writhe in pain on your table?”
“Exactly,” she said, pointing at me before she sipped her martini. “And because they’re never the right candidates for what I like in the bedroom.”
I smirked at that. “Kinky bitch.”
“You’re just mad I’m not your dom.”
“A girl can dream.”
Livia smiled, shaking her head. “Stop trying to flatter me and get back to the point at hand. Why, exactly, are you so upset? You think he’s hot, right?”
“Well, I’m human, so yes.”
“And he’s cool, he’s fun, you like to be around him.”
“I guess, but—”
“So what is the problem?”
“He’s a hockey player!” I said, exasperated, my hands jutting toward her. “Just like you said. He’s a player. Period. I’ve literally seen him sandwiched between two women in a crowd of people. If I wasn’t there, he would have taken them both home.”
“But you were there,” Livia said.
And that was it.
That was her whole argument.
I had been there, and so Vince had left those girls dancing by themselves in the bar — all to chase after me.
I sighed, shaking my head as I sat back and drained my cocktail. I didn’t care that it was lunch and I had more work to do. I ordered another one. My heart was thumping in my ears, a panic attack rising.
“Are Reya and Camilla mad?”
“No,” I said on a laugh. “They’re tickled pink. But that doesn’t make it any less professional. I mean, let’s be honest, Livia — how many people are going to think I only got this gig because Vince Tanev wants to fuck me now? How many people are going to say that I was lucky, that I got plucked from the crowd of females desperate for his attention?” I paused, my voice softer when I added, “You should see the comments already. They’re awful.”
“Who gives a fuck what anyone on the Internet thinks or says?”
“It’s my career,” I said. “I just… I don’t want this to be what I’m remembered for. And besides, even if I did entertain whatever it is he’s offering. Which I’m not,” I added pointedly. “He’s a playboy, Liv. He can have whoever and do whatever he wants. What do I honestly expect?”
Livia’s eyes softened in understanding. “This is about James.”
I blinked, that panic that had been simmering under the surface boiling over now.
“No,” I said, but the admission was so weak not even I believed it.
“Oh, babe.” Livia leaned forward, wrapping her hand around my wrist on the table with a gentle squeeze. “Vince is not James.”
“He’s not that much different.”
That made Livia quiet, like she wanted to argue but wasn’t sure she had a leg to stand on. Because just like Vince, James had been an athlete. Just like Vince, James had been charming, and magnetic, and easy to fall for. And just like Vince, James was rich, from an affluent family, with certain expectations of who he should be with.
“He called me.”
“Who?”
I flattened my lips when I looked at her, but it was actual surprise on her face when she damn near choked on her cocktail.
“James? How? Didn’t you block his number?”
“He got a new one,” I said flatly. “Don’t worry — I blocked it, too. But not before he rattled me and gave me his unwarranted advice.”
“He what now?”
I sat up straighter, using my straw wrapper to make a mustache like the one James sported now. Then, in my best impression, I said, “Look, I understand how guys like him tick. I also know you’ve worked your ass off to get where you are.”
“No he did not—”
“I just don’t want you to jeopardize your career because he’s spinning all the right webs and saying all the right things.”
Just like mine had, Livia’s jaw hit the table, and she slow blinked twice before letting out a menacing laugh. She dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin before tossing it on the table. “Alright. That’s it. I hope that prick is enjoying breathing today, because he won’t be soon.”
She acted like she was about to stand and go find James, like she was my knight in shining armor. I tried to laugh, but it fell flat, and Livia frowned before reaching across the table to squeeze my arm again.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I didn’t let myself overthink it before I was blowing a breath through my lips, shaking the whole thing off. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. But in a way, it was a good reminder of what I already knew to be true.”
Livia’s lips pulled to the side, but she didn’t argue.
“And I’m going to show Vince that, despite him ignoring me every time I’ve told him, this is a professional relationship.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I nodded, smiling wickedly as I sat back and sipped my martini. “I have a date. Tonight.”
“A date?” Livia almost laughed. “With who?”
I waved her off. “I don’t know. Some guy from the apps. I swiped right a few times and got a match.”
“Let me get this straight. Your plan is to go on a date with another man, presumably let him pick you up at the condo where you’re currently staying, and for that to somehow make Vince Tanev realize you’re off limits?”
“Yes.”
“You think,” she said, slower now, like I wasn’t understanding. “He’ll see you leave with this guy and take the hint, that he’ll leave you alone and think to himself, ‘Well, I guess that’s that. Maven is clearly taken and not at all interested in me?’”
“Exactly.”
This time, she did laugh, shaking her head as she plucked the olive out of her martini and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, honey,” she said. “This is going to backfire right in that pretty face of yours.”
