IfIWere

Beautiful

Book1

DevonHartford

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DEDICATION

ToJC.TheLoveJugisstillasecret.

IfIWereBeautiful-Book1

Islifebetterwhenyou’rebeautiful?

#1bestsellingauthorDevonHartfordbringsyouanotherhotcontemporaryromancewithamystical

twist.

JaneJohnsonhastriedeverybeautytipandtrickknowntowoman,butnoneofthemevermademen

noticeher.

Untilnow.
Forthefirsttimeinherlife,somethingisworking.Shedoesn’trecognizeherselfinthemirror.Shehas

literallytransformedfromplaintodownrightbeautiful.

Beforeherinexplicabletransformation,Janecouldn’tgetadatetosaveherlife.Nowshehasadate

everynightoftheweek.Gorgeouseligiblemenarethrowingthemselvesather.They’reevenfightingover
her,actualfistfightstowinheraffection.

Itallseemstoogoodtobetrue.
TheonlyquestiononJane’smindiswhetherornothernewfoundbeautyisgoingtolastorifit’ssome

crueltrickoffatethatwillfadeawayasquicklyasitappeared.

Becauseeverybodyknows,whensomethingseemstoogoodtobetrue,itprobablyis.

***IfIWereBeautiful-Book1ispartoneofasaucyromancetrilogywithamysticaltwistthatwill

leaveyoubreathlesstofindoutwhathappensnext.Book2willreleaseinApril2017,Book3inJuly
2017(orsooner).

Chapter1

Thefunnythingaboutloveis,youneverknowwhenorwhereyou’llfindit.
Youcangofromadatingdroughttorainingmenintheblinkofaneye.Butweallknow,whenyou’re

waitingforthedroughttoend,itsometimesfeelslikeitneverwill…

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

“Youareashamelessconartist,Chelsea,”Ihissedinmysister’sear.
“Relax,Jane.It’snotlikeItookyoutoastripclub.”
“Iwouldratherdothatthanthis,”Igrumbled,lookingaroundthecrowdedbarsectionofReaXion,a

trendyeateryintheheartofMelrose.“Idon’tknowhowyoueverthoughtspeeddatingwouldbeagood
idea.”

ChelseaandIsatsidebysideatarowoftablesalongthewallwiththeotherwomendaters.Themen

milledaboutinthebarsection,awaitingthefirstbellandthefirstroundofspeeddates,whichwastwo
minutesawayaccordingtothebigdigitaltimeratthefrontoftheroom.Personally,Iwastwoseconds
awayfromdyingofapanicattack.

Ihateddating.
Surprised,Chelseasaid,“Areyouseriousaboutthestripclub?Becauseifyouare,wecanleaveright

now.Hunk-O-Maniaislikefiveminutesfromhere.”Chelseahadbeenboycrazysinceshewasfiveand
hadn’tletupforthelasttwenty-sixyears,butIneverthoughtshe’dpickastripjointfantasyoverareal
date,nomatterhowspeedy.ShewasjustassingleasIwas.Unlikeme,shewasgreatatdating.Itwas
oneofherfavoritethings.Notmine.Meningeneralwereabasicfrustrationinmylife.

“Hunk-O-Mania?”Iscowled.“Didyoujustmakethatup?”
“No.It’sarealplace.”
“Thatyou’vebeentoathousandtimes,”Ijoked.
“Once,”shesmirked.“I’veonlybeentoHunk-O-Maniaonce,andthatwasincollege.Butifyouwant,

we’llgothenexttimeI’mintown.”ChelsealivedinSanFranciscoandwasflyingouttomorrow
morning,butshe’dbebacksoon.SheflewdowntoLosAngelesforworkonamonthlybasisandalways
stayedatmyapartmentwhenshedid.

“Canwegonow?”Igroaned.
“Towhere?Hunk-O-Mania?”
“No.Anyplaceexcepthere.”
“TheguysatHunk-O-Maniaarehot,Jane.”
“Howhot?”Iwasn’teveninterested.Iwasjustlookingforanexcusetoleave.
“ChanningTatumhot.MattBomerhot.JoeManganiellohot.AlexPettyfer—”
“Chelz,you’relistingthecastofMagicMike.Iguaranteeyou,thoseguysdon’tworkataplacecalled

Hunk-O-Mania.TheguyswhoworkthereprobablylooklikeHomerSimpsonorPeterGriffinfrom
FamilyGuy.Beergutsgaloreandrecedingornonexistenthairlines.”

“Theydon’tlooklikefatcartoonmen,”shesnickeredandheldupheriPhone,showingmeaphotoofa

rowofbeefyshirtlessguyswithrockhardchestsandwashboardabsposingonastage.

“See?”Igiggled.“HomerSimpson.Thatoneguyinthemiddlewiththecleftchinlooksexactlylike

GlennQuagmire.”

“Yeah,right.We’llgoafterspeeddating.”
“Chelz!I’mnotgoingtoHunk-O—”
Thefirstbellrangandtwodozenmenmadetheirwaytothetables.
“Hush,Jane!Herecometherealmen.”Shepattedmythighbeneaththetable.“We’llgosamplethe

fantasymenatHunk-O-Maniaafterspeeddating.”

“Whataboutdinner?”Iwhined.“WithmybelovedsisterwhoInowhate?”
“Wehavereservationsintherestaurantforafter.”ReaXionwaswellknownfortheirgoodfood,but

I’dnevereatenhere.“Trytohavefun,Jay-Jay.”

Igrumbled,“Whataboutspeeddatingcouldpossiblybefun?”
Shedidn’tanswerbecauseherdatehadalreadysatdownathertableandwasbusyintroducing

himself.

Themanwhosatinfrontofmeworeanavyblazeroveradressshirtandwasaverageheightwith

averagelooks.CharlieHunnamhewasnot.Hehadabitofapinchedface,butitwasniceenough.He
wasthekindofguyyouwouldnevernoticeinacrowdedroom.Atleasthewasquickwithawarmfirm
handshake.Hishandwasdamp,butIwasn’tonetojudge.

“Hey.I’mMike.What’syourname?”HesoundedasnervousasIwas.
“Jane,”Ismiled.
Mikesmoothedhisslacksunderthetable.“Youeverdothisbefore?”
“What,dateaman?”Ijoked.“No,notreally.”Itwashalftrue.Attwenty-nine,Ihadlimited

experiencewithmenanddating.MyrelationshipwithAaronGrosshadlastedlessthanayearandahalf
beforehedisappeared.Yes,disappeared.Hejuststoppedansweringmyphonecallsandtextsoneday.
LaterIfoundouthe’dmovedtoWisconsinforajob.Henevereventoldme.WithHarveyPews,we’d
barelymadeittosixmonthswhenheadmittedhewasseeingsomeoneelse.Thewholetime.Otherthan
thosetwo,therewasn’tmuchtotalkaboutbeyondahandfulofrandombaddatesovertheyears.

Mikegavemeastrangelook.“Areyouokay?”
“Sorry,Ijust…”Itittered.
“Uh…yeah…”hechucklednervously,notknowingwhattosay.Hespunasparedrinkcoaster

absentlyonthetabletop,whichseemedtocapturehisinterestfarmorethanIdid.Great.Hewas
probablycountingtheminutesuntilthenextbell.Luckily,hehadonlyfourtogobeforehe’dneverhaveto
seemeagain.

Icouldn’tbelievemyfirstspeeddatewascrashingandburningafterlessthansixtyseconds.

Awkward!NowIdidn’tknowwhattosayeither.WhydidIhavetoopenwithsuchastupidjoke?

Hesaid,“Uh,Ithinkwe’resupposedtoaskeachotherthebasics.So,Jane,tellmeaboutyou.When

wasthelasttimeyoujumpedoutofanairplane?”

“Howisthatthebasics?”Ichuckleduncertainly.
Hejustshruggedinresponse,notmakingthisanyeasier.
“Uh,youmean,likeskydiving?”
Hegrinned,“Yeah.”
“Oh,I’venevergoneskydiving.”
“You?Comeon,Jane.Youhaveextremesportswrittenalloveryou.”
Icouldn’tdecideifhewasjokingwithmeormakingfunofme.Experiencewouldleadmetobelieve

itwasthelatter.Igrimaced,“Neverjumpedoutofanairplanebefore,Mike.Sorry.”NowIwasso
uncomfortableI’dwillinglyjumpoutofthenearestone,sansparachute,ifitmeantIcouldgetoutof
speeddating.IreallyneededtokillChelsealater.

Mike’seyessearchedmine.Hiswereaprettylightblue.
Minewereshrunkenbymybigglasses,whichIhated.Becauseofmystrongprescription,Icouldn’t

wearcontacts.SoIwasstuckwearingmagnifyingglasseseversinceIwassix.Ipushedthemupmynose

andgigglednervously.

Mikesuddenlysmiled.Agenuinesmile.“Um,okay.So,you’renotintoextremesports.Howaboutun-

extremesports?”Thoselightblueeyesofhistwinkledwithamusement.HewastryingandIappreciated
that.

Igiggled,“What,likesewing?Isthatanun-extremesport?”
“Sure.Sewing.Orknitting.Maybebaking?”Betweenhisbrighteyesandbrightsmile,Mikewasmore

thancuteenoughforme.Despiteourrockystart,Isensedabitofchemistry.

Igrinnedhopefully,“Idefinitelybake.ThewayIdoitisinnowayextreme.ButIcanbakeapretty

meanchocolatecake.”

“Whoa,nottoomean,”hechuckled.“Notlikedevil’sfoodcakeoranythingdangerouslikethat,Ihope.

Thatmightdisqualifyyou.”

“No,”Ihalf-laughed,“nothingdangerous.Ionlybakeangelfoodcakes.”
“Oh,good.Idon’tthinkIcoulddateawomanwhobakesSatan’sfoodcake.”
“Wait,areyouserious?”
“No,”hechuckled,abigsmileonhisface.
“Okay,justtobesafe,IpromiseI’llneverbakeyouanySatan’sfoodcake.Ordemon’sfoodcake

either.”

“Isthatathing?”
“No,”Igiggled.“Whataboutchocolateingeneral?Ischocolatetooextremeforyou,orwillyoueat

somethingbasiclikebrownies?I’vealwaysthoughtofbrowniesasthemostinnocentofallthebaked
desserts.”

“Dependshowrichtheyare,”hewinked.
“Wow,Mike.Areyouafoodprude?Ibetyoudon’tlikehotsauceoranythingtoospicyeither.”
“Actually,I’mahugeSrirachafan.Putitonjustabouteverything.”
“Doyouputitonbrownies?Areyouthatdangerous,Mike?Orjustaposer?”
“Neveronbrownies.Butitgoesgreatwithdarkchocolate.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,”henoddedenthusiastically.“Ifyoulikehotsauceandchocolate,you’llprobablylikethem

together.”

“I’llhavetotrythatsometime.Imightactuallylikeit.”
“Ican’tbakeanyforyou,butIcanbuyyouabar.Isbuyingtooextreme?”
“No,buyingisfine,”Ilaughed.IwasreallystartingtolikeMike.Thoseblueeyesofhisweremaking

myheartrace.Ilookedaway,startingtoblush.Hechucklednervously.IfIwasn’tmistaken,helikedme
too.

“So,Jane,whatotherun-extremesportsdoyouenjoy?Imean,whatistheleastextremethingyoulike

todo?”

“Hmmm.Letmethink.Breathe?”
Mike’sfaceglowedwithamusement.“Ithinkthattakesthecake,Jane.Thatispossiblytheleast

extremethingIcanthinkof.Well,exceptmaybe…No.Breathingisdefinitelythewinner.Wellplayed.
Highfive.”HehelduphispalmandIslappedit.

Wowohwow.Ihadn’trealizeditbefore,butMikewasactuallyverycute.Iwouldbethrilledtodatea

guylikeMike.

AndMikewassmilingatmewarmly.
Wewereofficiallyhavingamoment.
AmomentIwantedtolastforatleastanotherfourhours.WhyhadIeverdoubtedChelsea?Speed

datingwastheperfectidea.

CLING-A-LING-A-LING!!!

“Time’sup!That’sfiveminutes!”ThewomanwhowasMCingtheeveningsaidoverthemicrophone

whileringingahandbell.“Gentlemen,pleaseshiftoneseattoyourright.”

IscribbledanoteonmyscorecardaboutMike’slightblueeyesandun-extremedating.Iwould

definitelyberequestinghiscontactinformationlater.

Ihopedherequestedmine.
Somethingtoldmehewould.
Ismiledtomyselfasthenextguysatdown.
ThisguywasmuchcuterthanMike,butnotnearlyasinterested.HisnamewasTylerandhehaddusty

blondhair,asurfertan,andperfectteeth.Aftergivingmeatwosecondlookandhalf-heartedhello,he
refusedtomakeeyecontact.Hiskneebouncedunderthetableconstantly,wobblingthetableandshaking
ourdrinks.Hewaspracticallyrefusingtotalk.Ikeptaskinghimquestions,butIfeltlikeIwas
interviewingatwo-year-old.Iwastheonlyonetryingtomakeconversation.

“So,Tyler.Whatdidyousayyoudidagain?”
HetossedbackthelastofhisJack&Cokeandlookedoverhisshouldertowardthebar.“WonderifI

cangetarefill?”

“What,now?”
Heshruggedandtiltedhisglass,swallowinganicecube,whichheproceededtocrunchloudlywhile

lookingaroundattheotherspeeddaters.Hewasdoingeverythinghecouldtoavoidconversation.

Ifhecheckshisphone,IswearI’ll—
Hepulledhisphoneoutofhispocketandthumbedthescreen.
Ileanedmyforeheadintomypalmandgroaned.“Whydon’tyougogetyourdrink,Tyler.”
Hegavemealookthatsaid,Wecool?
Igavehimascowlthatsaid,You’renot,butyoucangogetyourdrinknow,littleboy.
Hestoodupandclickedhistongue.“BRB.”
“Takeyourtime,Tyler.”Ifoldedmyarmsacrossmychestandglaredathimashewalkedtothebar.
Besideme,ChelseasaidtoMike,whowashercurrentdate,“Justasecond.”Sheleanedagainstme

andwhispered,“Whatjusthappened?”

“Tylerneededarefill,”Igrumbled.
“Tylerisaleakydouche.”
“Leaky?”Igiggled.
“Yes,leaky.Forgetabouthim.Trytorelaxbeforethenextdate.”SheturnedbacktoMikeandsmiled,

“Sorry.”

Mikeleanedoverthetableandsaid,“Areyouokay?”Itwassosweethecared.
Isighed,“I’mfine.”
Mikewinked,“Doyouwantmetogokickhisass?”TylerwastwiceMike’ssizesohewasprobably

joking,butIappreciatedthesentiment.

“No,that’sokay.IthinkIcanhandleit.”
Mikegrinned,“Soyou’llkickhisass?”
Ilaughed.“Yeah.ButI’llkickhisballsfirst.”
“YoumightbeabitmoreextremethanIgaveyoucreditfor,Jane.Ilikethat.”
“Thanks.Butyoushouldbefocusingonyourdatewithmysister.”
Mike’sheadswiveledbetweenmeandChelsea.“She’syoursister?”
“Yeah,she’smysister.”Iwaitedforwhatusuallycamenext:wheneverthemenIknewdiscoveredmy

sisterlookedlikeasupermodel,theyforgotIexisted.Unlikeme,Chelseawastall,hadlongflowing
blondehair,andaperfectbody.Andnoglasses.Ifshehadn’tbeensodamnsmart,sheprobablywould’ve
goneintomodeling.Butshewas,andshethoughtmodelingwasstupid,soshewentintomarketing.

Mike’seyesbulgedashelookedatbothofus.

Fabulous.Hewasabouttoloseallinterestinme.
Herubbedhishandstogethercraftily.“Whatapleasantsurprise.”
Irolledmyeyesandsmirkedathim.Mikewasaleakydouche,justlikeTyler.
MiketurnedtoChelz.“So,Chelsea.TellmeeverythingIneedtoknowaboutJane.What’sherfavorite

food?Herfavoriterestaurant?DoesshehaveanyfoodallergiesIshouldavoid?Andwhatdoesshelike
todoforfunbesidesSatanicbaking?”

Chelsealaughed,“Satanicbaking?”
“Nevermindthat.JusttellmewhatIneedtoknowtogetaseconddatewithyoursister.”
Okay,soMikewasnothinglikeeveryotherguywho’dmetmysisteraftermeetingme.
Chelseasmiledatmeandmouthedthewords,“Ilikethisguy.”
Metoo.
IwaslisteningintentlywhileChelseastartednamingoffmylikesanddislikes.
“Holdon,”Mikesaidtoherandturnedtoglareatme,“Don’tlisten,Jane.Iwanteverythingyoursister

tellsmetobeasurprise.”

“Yeah,Jane,”shesaid.“Thisisaprivateconversation.”Shewavedherhandatme.“Gokickyour

dateintheballsorsomething.”

Ilaughedtomyselfandgavethemtheirspace.Twominuteslater,thehostessrangthebellandthemen

gotuptoswitch.

Chelseanudgedmeandwhispered,“Mikeisgreat.Ireallylikehimforyou.”
“Iknow,right?”
“Butyou’vegotatonmoredatesbeforethenightisover.Whoknowswhattheeveningwillbring?”
“Right.”
“Andyoushouldtakeyourglassesoff.Youlookbetterwithoutthem.”Shereachedupandslidthemoff

myfacebeforeIcouldstopher.

“Wait!Ican’tsee!”Itwastrue.Herfacewasnowahazyblur.
“Seewithyourheartnotyoureyes.”
“Areyoukidding?Eyesarethewindowstothesoul!Givemebackmywindows!”Igrabbedforthem.
Sheslidtheminherpurse.“Youcanhaveyourwindowsbackafterspeeddating.Nowpayattention.

Yournextdateiswaitingandhelookslikeakeeper.”

Chapter2

Iturnedtofaceatallhazybroad-shoulderedblur.
“Hey.I’mZack.”Hesatdowninfrontofme.
“Jane.”Isquinted,tryingtoseewhathelookedlike.AnabstractPicassopainting,that’swhat.ForallI

knew,hewasmissingallhisfrontteeth,hadtwonoses,threeeyeballs,andfourears.StupidChelsea.I
couldn’tseeathing.“Sorry,thiscrazywomannexttomejuststolemyglassesandIcan’treallyseeyou.”

“Youwantmetostealthemback?”Zackoffered.
“Wouldyou?”Ichuckled.
ChelsealeanedagainstmeandsaidtoZack,“I’mhersister.I’llgivethembacklater.”Shewentback

toTyler,whoIrealizedshewasnowignoringbybusilythumbingthroughheriPhone,givinghimatasteof
hisownmedicine.

Ismiledatthat.
Zacksaidtome,“She’syoursister?”Samethingeverytime.
“Yeah,yeah,”Isighed.“Shewasadopted.”
“Oh,really?”
“No.Iwasadopted.”
“Really?”
Irolledmyeyes,realizingIwasgettingbitchy.BlamerudeTyler.Alsoblamemygorgeoussister.

“No,”Isighed,“neitherofusareadopted.Canwetalkaboutsomethingelse?Tellmeaboutyou.”

“I’mreallyboring,”hechuckled.WashetryingtofindanexcusetostoptalkingorwasIassumingthe

worst?ItwashardtosaybecauseIhadnoideawhatZacklookedlike.Ifhewascute,I’dsayhewasn’t
interested.Ifhelookedlikeadonkey,maybehewas.TheonlythingIhadtogoonwashisvoice.Ithada
nicecrispmanlyraspthatIliked.

“Youdon’tsoundboring,Zack.Yourvoicehasasparkletoit.”
“Sparkle?MustbeallthefirecrackersIateforlunch.I’vebeenburpingsparklersallday.”
Igiggled.“See?You’renotboring.”
“Trustme,Iwinawardsforboring.”Therewasthatcuteraspyvoiceagain.
“Iwillputcashmoneyonthetablethatmyjobismoreboringthanyours.”Ipulledmypurseoutand

laidatwentydollarbillonthewood,orwhatIthoughtwasatwentybecauseitwassoblurryIwasn’t
reallysure.

“Twentybucks?Damn,youdon’tmessaround.Ilikethatinawoman.”
“What,womenwhodon’tmakemesses?Thatsoundssomehowsexist,Zack,”Ijoked.
“Notatall.Wholikesamess?BesidesOscartheGrouch,Imean?”
“PigpenfromthePeanuts.”
“Ahhh,Pigpen.Yougottalovethatguy.Noshamewhatsoever.”
“Exactly.”Iwaspartialtomenwhoweren’tafraidtoshowtheirchildishside.“AreyouaPeanutsfan,

Zack?”

“MoreofaSnoopyfan.CharlieBrownisabitofadweebandthatLucyVanPeltisatotalbitch.”
“Agreed.Areyouabitofadweeb,Zack?”
“Doyouwantmetobe?”Hisvoicehadasoothingwarmth.
“Idon’tknow.Maybe?”Ishrugged,suddenlyblushing.IhadnoideawhatZacklookedlike,butIknew

Ialreadylikedhim.Ihopedhewasn’ttoocuteorwewouldneverwork.

“Anyway,backtothisjobthing.Ipromiseyou,Jane,myjobistentimesmoreboringthanyours.”Zack

pulledouthiswalletandlaidabillontopofmine.

“Isthatatwenty?”
“Itis.”
“HowdoIknowforsure?Ican’ttellwithoutmyglasses.”
“Guessyou’regonnahavetogambleI’mtellingthetruth.”
“Okay,tellmethetruth.Areyouascuteasyourvoice?”
Helaughed.“Ummmm,Idon’tknow.Youtellme.”
“Asblursgo,yoursisplentycute.”Ilikedhimevenmoreforhishumility.“Butthequestionis,didyou

putatwentydownorareyouhustlingme?”

“Both.”
“Ilikethesoundofthat.CanIbehonest,Zack?”
“Goforit.”
“I’veneverbeenhustledbefore.”
“ThenI’llbeyourfirsthustler,”hechuckled,nowsoundingnervousbutstilleager.
“I’mnotsurewhatthatmeans.”
“Meneither.ButI’lldowhateverittakestogetthejobdone.”Hisinnuendowassubtle,butitwas

there.

“Okaythen!”Iclearedmythroat,myfaceburning.“I’llseeyourtwentyandraiseyouanothertwenty.”

Iputanotherbillonthepile.

Henarrowedhiseyes,“Nowwho’shustlingwho,Jane?”
“Isn’tthatatwenty?”Ipickedupmybillandlookedatitclosely,butcouldn’ttellforsure,soIsetit

backdown.

“Itis,butIstillthinkyou’retryingtohustleme.”
“MaybeIam,”Iflashedhimaflirtysmile.
“IthinkIbettercallbeforethepotgetstoohotforeitherofustohandle.”Heputanotherbillonthe

pile.

“Yousure?”Thetensionbetweenuswasdefinitelychargedandincreasinglysexual.
“Iam.Yourjobcan’tpossiblybeasboringasmine.Littledoyouknow,I’vegotanaceinthehole.”
“Whichhole?”
Zackchuckled,genuinelyamused.“Areyouflirting,Jane?”
“Areyoujustnoticingnow?”
“Icanbeslowontheuptake.”
“SomehowIdoubtthat.”ButIwaslovingthis.
Imayhavehateddatingwhenthingsdidn’tgowell,butIloveditwhentheydid.Likenow.“So,Zack.”

Igesturedatourstackoftwentiesonthetable.“Arewereallycallingthisordoyouwantmetoupthe
stakes?”

“Iamagamblingman,”hemused.
“AndI’magamblingwoman.Here’sanothertwenty.”Ididn’twanttothrowawaysixtydollars,butI

wasconfidentI’dwinthebetofwhohadtheworstjob.

“Damn,woman.Youdon’tmessaround.I’llseeyourtwentyandcall.”Hefoldedhisarmsacrosshis

chest.“Whatdoyoudoforaliving,Jane?”

Ilaidmyhandoverthepileofmoney.“I’manightmanagerata95CentStore.”Itwasthetruth.I

draggedthepileofmoneytowardme.

Zacklaidhisbighandonmine.“Notsofast,littlelady.”Hishandwasverywarm.Hecouldleaveit

rightwhereitwasallnight.

Goosebumpsjumpedupmyarm.

“Ihavetotellyou,Jane,beingthenightmanagerata99CentStoreisn’twhatI’d—”
Icuthimoff,“95CentStore.You’rethinkingofourcompetitor.Higherprices.Muchnicerstores.

Muchbettermerchandise.Andmuchlessboring.”

Hesqueezedmyhandaffectionately.
Liquidlightningcrackledthroughmychestandpooledbetweenmylegs.Isqueezedmykneestogether,

savoringit.IsquintedatZack,tryingtoseehimbetter,buthewasstilljustablur.Inmyimagination,he
lookedlikeatanversionofMichaelFassbenderwithdarkerhairandeyebrows.Iknewthatwasunlikely.
TherealZackprobablydidhavetwonosesandfourears,butifthatturnedouttobetrue,I’djusttakemy
glassesoffwheneverhewasaround.

Hesaid,“Ihatetobreakittoyou,sunshine,butthispotismine.”
“Unlesssomeonepaysyoutowatchpaintdry,Idon’tknowwhatyoucouldpossiblydothat’smore

boringthanwhatIdo.”

“I’manightjanitoratanofficebuildingdowntown.”
“Really?”
“Yup.Beendoingitsixyears.Doyouhaveanyideahowboringitis?It’sthesamethingoverandover

everysinglenight.”Okay,sohewasn’tafamousactorlikeMichaelFassbender.Butheprobablyhadthe
rightnumberofeyesandears.Goodenoughforme.

“Thatdoessoundprettyboring,”Ilaughed,onlyslightlygiddy.
“Yeah.Butyouaren’t.”
IwasexcitedtodiscoverheworkedthenightshiftlikeIdid,whichmeantourscheduleswerealready

insync.I’dlearnedovertheyearsthatworkingthenightshiftwasrarelyconducivetodating.

HestillheldmyhandandIwasshaking.Hehadtobefeelingit.Andhewasn’tpullingaway.
Wow,IreallylikedZack.
CLING-A-LING-A-DING-DING!
“Gentlemen!Pleasemoveoneseattoyourright!”
“Nicemeetingyou,Zack,”Imuttered.
Hishandwasstillonmine.“Nicedoingbusinesswithyou,Jane.”
“Ididn’tgettotellyouhowboringmyjobis!”
“Youcantellmeoverdinner.”Heliftedmyhandwithhisandusedhisothertograbthemoney.“I’m

buying.”

Iwantedtobeg,When?Now?Canweditchspeeddatingandgoeatnow?I’vegotreservationsfor

twointhenextroom!

BeforeIcouldsayanything,thenextdaterwashoveringoverZack,soZackstoodandshiftedto

Chelsea’stable.

Ididn’tbothertoscribbleanynotesonmyscorecardaboutZackbecauseIcouldn’tsee.AndbecauseI

wouldneverforgethowcharminghewas.Mikehadbeenfun,butZackprojectedamasculinemagnetism
thatsweptmeaway.

WhileZackandtheotherguywerechangingseats,Chelsealeanedintomeandmuttered,“Thatwent

well.”

Icuppedmyhandaroundherearandwhispered,“Chelz,pleasedon’tbeinterestingwithZack.Or

interested.Ireallylikehim.”

Shemutteredinmyear,“I’llbeneither.Icamehereforyou,Jay.I’mnotcallinganyoftheseguys

back.”

“Seriously?”
“Seriously.Nowpayattentiontothisnextguy.He’scute.”

Chapter3

“Tonightwasadisaster,Chelz!Ican’tbelieveyoumademedothis!”Ipulledherbythearmand

draggedherfromthebarmomentsafterthefinalbellrangafterthefinaldate.

DespitemyearlysuccesseswithMikeandZack,therestofthemaledaterswereallduds.Ididn’tfeel

anyconnectionwiththetwenty-oddremainingmen.ThehighI’dfeltaftertalkingtoMikeandthenZack
waslonggone.Theyweregonetoo.I’msurethey’dforgottenallaboutmeafterchattingwithalltheother
women.

Wasthereanythingmemorableaboutafive-foot-nothingnerdgirlwiththickglassesandbadhair?
Ihadmyglassesbackon,soIledtheway,draggingChelseathroughthecrowdedfrontlobbyof

ReaXiontowardtheexit.

Chelseapulledmetoastop.“Whataboutdinner,Jay?Westillhaveourreservation.”
“Ijustwanttogetoutofhere.”
“Ithoughtyouwerehungry?”
“Iwastwohoursago.Notanymore.Let’sgo.”
“Fine,”shesighedandwestumbledoutthefrontdoorsontoMelrose.Thesidewalkwascrowdedwith

peoplegoinginandoutofthevariousbars,restaurants,andstoresalongthestreet.

“Jane!Holdup!”Aman’svoicecalled.
IturnedandsawsomeonesqueezingpastthepeoplewaitingoutsideReaXion.IwhisperedtoChelsea,

“Who’sthat?”

“That’sZack.”
“Areyoukidding?”
“Nope.”
Zackwascute.Zackwasbetterthancute.Hewasn’tMichaelFassbender,buthewasnothingtosneeze

at.Tall,darkhair,friendlyeyes,andacutesmile.Abitquirkywithhistoobigchin,butIcouldworkwith
quirks.

“Hey,Zack,”Isaid,blushingasheapproached.
“Hey,Jane.Hey,Chelsea,”henoddedatherpolitelybeforereachingintohispocketandpullingouta

bunchoftwenties.Hesnappedthembetweenhishands.“Ioweyoudinner.”Hiseyeswereonme.But
somethingtoldmehewasreallyhereforChelsea.Ifhisgazemovedevenafractionofaninchtowardher,
Iwouldsayno.Butitdidn’t.Hiseyebrowsliftedhopefullyandhiseyestwinkledrightatme.

Me.
“Ihearthere’satablewaitingforusinside,”hetippedhisheadtowardChelsea.
Isaid,“Didsheputyouuptothis?”
“Dinnerwasmyidea,”hesaid.“Shejusttoldmeaboutyourreservations.”
Iglaredather,tryingtohideasmile,“You’resuchaschemer,Chelz.”
Shefrowned,“Howismatch-makingscheming?”
“Please.That’sallmatch-makingis.”
Sheshrugged.
“Ibelieveourtableiswaiting,”Zacksaid,motioningtowardthedoors.
“WhataboutChelz?Weonlyhavereservationsfortwo.Wecan’tditchher.”
“We’llmakeitwork,”hesaidwithabsoluteconfidence.“Let’sgo.”HeofferedhiselbowandI

wrappedmyhandsarounditwithoutasecondthought.

Despitehavingthreepeople,thehostessfoundaspotforusinacorneratatablefortwoandbrought

anextrachairandextrasilverwareforZack.ChelzandIsatacrossfromeachotherwithZackontheend.
Althoughitwaspastteno’clockatnight,weweresurroundedbythelivelybuzzofapackedrestaurant:
peopleeating,silverwareclinking,animatedconversation.

“Youguyshavefuntonight?”Zackasked,absentlyadjustinghisforkandknifeonthetable.
Ismirked,“Ifyou’relikemeandyoulovebeingtreatedlikeapublictoilet,thenyes,tonightwasthe

highlightofmyweek.”

Hechuckled,“Speeddatingislikebeingatoilet?”
“Yep.Nobodywantstospendmorethanafewminutesdumpingtheirshitonyoubeforemovingonand

neverlookingback.”MaybeIwasalittlebitdisgruntledaftertwenty-plusconsecutivebadspeeddates.

Chelseagrimaced.“Gross.”
“Icamebackformore,Jane,”Zacksaidwithasmile.
“Yeah,butthat’sbecauseyou’reajanitor.It’syourjob,”Ilaughed.
Henudgedmykneeunderthetableandwinkedatme,“It’sadirtyjob,butsomebody’sgottadoit.”
Chelseashookherhead,“Thereisnowaythat’snotdisgusting,youtwo.Canwechangethesubject?”
“Sure,”Zacksmiledather.“Howaboutyou,Chelsea?Didyouhavefuntonight?”
“IjustcameforJane,”sheshrugged,busyreadinghermenu.“Wewouldn’tbehereifIhadn’t

suggestedit.”

“Suggested?”Isnorted,pullinghermenudownsoIcouldseehereyes.“Howaboutliedandtricked?”
Chelsearolledhereyes.“Youneedtogetoutmore.Nowyou’rehavingdinnerwithacuteguy.You’re

welcome.”

Zacklaughed,“Youtworeallyaresisters,aren’tyou?”
“Isometimeswonder,”Isneered.
“No,we’rereallysisters,”Chelseasaid,stillreadinghermenu.
“Icanseethefamilyresemblance,”Zacksaid.
Ichuckled,“Theonlyfamilyresemblancebetweenanakedmolerat,me,andalithegazelle,her,isthe

factwe’rebothmammalsthathavefourlegsandatail.”

Chelsearolledhereyes.“Youdon’tlooklikeamolerat,Jay.”
“Ihavetoagree,”Zacksaid.
“Youtwobothneedyoureyeschecked.I’mtheblindonewiththebeadyeyes.”Ipulledmylipsback

overmyteethandmadesqueakinghigh-pitchedratnoises.

Chelzswattedmyarmandlaughed,“Stop,Jay.Peoplearegonnathinkthisplacehasrats.”
Iknewitwasn’texactlysexytoactlikeamolerataroundacuteguyI’djustmet,butmyfearthatZack

washereforChelseawouldnotgoaway.Thiswouldn’tbethefirsttimesomeguyhadflirtedwithmeto
gettoher.Makingdumbjokesdistractedmefrommyself-doubt.Thealternativewastositandstew,
growingincreasinglyworrieduntilIsabotagedtheentiredinnerbyinterrogatingZackuntilheadmittedhe
thoughtChelseawasbetterlookingthanmeandhewasonlyhereforher.I’ddoneitbefore.Notsince
highschool,butI’ddoneit.

Iscowledtomyself,tryingtoburythememory.
Despitemyworries,Imanagedtopullmyselftogetheranddinnerwentsmoothly.Whenourcheck

came,Zackinsistedonpaying.HealsoinsistedonwalkingustomyHyundaiwhereitwasparkedinthe
residentialneighborhoodnorthofMelrose.

“AmIgonnagetyourcontactinfotomorrow?”heaskedmeasweapproachedmycar.
IfhewashereforChelsea,hewasdoingagreatjoboffakingit.“Wecanexchangeinfonowifyou

want.”

“Soundsgreat.”
Wepulledoutphonesandsharednumbers.Chelseahungback,lettingthismomentbemine.After,Zack

gotChelsea’sdoor,thenmine.WhenIwasbehindthewheel,heleanedagainstmydoorframe.

“Thanksforlettingmebuyyoudinner,Jane.”
“Thanksforoffering,Zack.”Imeantit.
“Wegonnagooutagainsoon?”
“Justgivemetheword.”
“Word.”Hebrushedhisknuckleundermychin.
“Uhhhhh…”Myskinsizzledwherehetoucheditandmyeyelidsthreatenedtoflutter.
Hesmiled,“I’llcallyousoon.Drivesafe.”Heclosedthedoorandwavedaswedroveoff.
Assoonasweturnedacorner,Chelseasaid,“Zackissocute.You’reperfectforeachother.”
“Hewasprobablyintoyou,Chelz.”
“Don’tbesodownonyourself,Jay.Hewastalkingtoyouthewholetime.Idon’tthinkhesaidmore

thanthreewordstome.”

“No,hesaidatleasttwenty-five,”Isnarked.“Ifnotfifty.Maybemore.”
“Shutup,”shelaughed.“Helikedyou,Jay!Couldn’tyoutell?Icould.”
“It’sjustaruse.Markmywords.Atsomepoint,he’llaskforyournumber.”

Chapter4

“Haveasafeflight,”IsaidtoChelseaaswestoodonthesidewalkoutsideTerminal4atLAXthenext

morning.Wehuggedeachothergoodbye.

“Itwassogoodtoseeyouagain,Jay-Jay.”Sherubbedmybackandpressedhercheekagainstmine.
“Youtoo.”Ipulledaway.“Wheredidyougetthesesunglasses?Theymakeyoulooklikeamovie

star.”

“Notheydon’t,”shefrowned.Withherstylishwinterwhitepantsuit,blackshoesandblackhandbag,

shelookedlikeshewaswhiskingawaytoashoppingtripinParis.

“Yeah,okay,”Isnorted.Comparedtoher,Iwasdressedlikeateenageboy.Myoutfitwasmyusual

casualuniformofjeansandanOldNavyhoodieoverarandomprintT-shirt.TodayitwasLumpySpace
PrincessfromAdventureTime.

“Youcoulddresslikeamoviestartoo.”
“Idon’thaveyourfashionbudget,Chelz.”Thatwasjustanexcuse.Puttingniceclothesonamolerat

didn’tmakeitlooklikeamoviestar,sowhybother?

“GotoGoodwillinSantaMonica.Theyalwayshavegoodclothesforcheap.Ibetyoucouldbuyan

entireoutfitforlessthantwentybucks.”

“Yeah,butIwouldn’tlookasgoodasyouifIdid.”
Sherolledhereyes,“Jane,wouldyoustop?You’vebeentalkinglikethissincewewerekids.”

Chelseawasinasmuchdenialaboutherownlooksasshewasaboutmine.Itwasonereasonshewasn’t
abitchandIlovedherforit.

“Withgoodreason,”Ichuckled,unabletopullmyselfoutofmyusualspiralofsinkingself-esteem.
“Yeah,well,I’msickofit.StopbeatinguponyourselforIwillbitchslaptheinsecurityrightoutof

you.”

Ismirked,“Okay,soyoucanbeatmeupbutIcan’tbeatmeup?”
“That’sright,”shesmiled.“AsmuchasI’dlovetostayhereandkickyourass,I’llmissmyflightifI

do.”

“You’rejustscaredtothrowdownwithyourlittlesister.Especiallynotinyourfancyoutfit.”
“Ha!Youwish.DoyouthinkIcareaboutthisoutfit?I’llthrowdownrightnow.”Shewasjoking.
“Youcan’tfightinheels.You’dlose,”Ichuckled.
Shesnorted,“Iwouldsoownyou,yousnarkylittlebitch.”
WebothlaughedasIpulledherbagsoutofthetrunkofmyHyundaiandgaveheronelasthug.“Call

mewhenyou’rehomesafeinSanFrancisco?”

“Iwill.Iwanttohearwhichotherguysfromlastnightwanttoseeyouagain.IreallylikedMike.”
“YoumeanthefirstoneItalkedto?”
“Yeah.”
“YouthinkhewasbetterthanZack?”
“Whocares?Themoreguysthebetter,right?That’sthewholepointofspeeddating.”
“Right.”
“Callmewhenyoufindout.”
“Iwill.Hey,areyoucomingbacknextmonth?”
“Probably.”
“Ialreadymissyou.”Imeantitandhuggedheragain.

“Metoo.”Shekissedmycheek.“Seeyousoon!”Shewheeledherluggagetowardtheairportdoors,

lookingeverybitlikeafashionspreadinVoguemagazineasshebreezedpastacrowdofgawkingmale
passengersandskycaps.Shewasoblivioustotheattentionassheturnedandblewmeakiss.Icaughtit
andwavedgoodbyeasshewalkedintotheterminal.

Isighedtomyselfanddrovehome.
Alone.
Iwasn’tholdingmybreaththatMikeorZackoranyoftheotherguysfromlastnightwouldactually

wanttoseemeagain.Worse,Ihadtheentiredayofftodwellonit.

Ugh.
Onthedrivehome,IcalledmybestfriendGeorgeSweet.
“Hey,Jane!Whatareyoudoingoutofyourcoffinsoearly?”GeorgeandIhadarunningjokethatI

wasavampirebecauseIworkedthenightshift.

“Whatdoyouthink,George?Ispentthenightgettingdrunkonvirginsatabloodrave.”
“Oooh!Abloodrave!Whydidn’tyoucallme?”
“Becauseyou’renotavampire.”
“Sadly,”hechuffed.Georgeoftenlamentedthefactthatvampiresweren’treal.“Didyoudressupas

WesleySnipesfromtheBlademoviesorBuffytheVampireSlayer?”

“Both,”Ilaughed.
“Ihopeyouhavepictures.”
“Itwasabloodrave,George.Youknowpicturesaren’tallowed.Bloodgetssucked.Virginsare

turned.Wevampiresdon’tlikewordgettingout.”

“That’swhyyoushould’veinvitedme,”hechuckled,“soIcouldgetturned.”Georgewastheonly

twenty-nineyearoldvirginI’deverknownwhowasn’tavirginbychoice,butwasdefiantlyproudofit.
Heworehisvirginitylikeareversebadgeofhonor,likebeingaloserwassomethinghechose.Ithink
secretlyhedidn’twanttobeavirginbuthe’dneveradmitit.Onetimethreeyearsago,we’dbeensitting
togetherunderablanketwatchingTheNightmareBeforeChristmasonHalloween.Iwantedhimtokiss
me,buthedidn’t.IwasalsoprettysureIwantedtohavesexwithhim.We’dbeenbestfriendsfornine
years.WhatwasnottolikeaboutGeorge?WhenI’dgonetothebathroomtopee,mychestwasfluttering
withexcitement.IdecidedIwouldstartaticklefightwithhimwhenIcameout.Hopefullythatwould
inspirehimtokissme.ButwhenIcameout,hewasgone.Wehadn’tevenkissed.Hedidn’tcallmefora
weekafterthat.IthoughtI’dlostmybestfriend.Thenhedidcallandactedlikeithadneverhappened.I
didn’tbringitupandwenevertalkedaboutitafterward.Eventoday,IcouldseemyselfwithGeorge.We
should’vebeenperfectforeachother.HewastheBat-nerdtomyRobin-nerd.ButIdidn’tthinkhecould
seehimselfwithanybody.

“Iwould’vecalled,”Isaid,“butKateBeckinsalewasn’tthereasSelenefromUnderworld.”
“Oh,thenforgetit,”hesnorted.“ButthenexttimeyouseeSeleneatoneofyourvampireparties,call

me.”

“WhatifIjustseeKateBeckinsale?”
“Mmmm?Nah.”
Webothlaughed.
GeorgewastheonlymalefriendI’deverhadwho’dnevermadeamoveonChelsea.Isometimes

fearedhewasholdingouthopesomethingwouldhappenbetweenthemsomeday,buthe’dbeenaround
herhundredsoftimessinceI’dmethimincollege.HeandChelseawerealwaysfriendlywitheachother,
butIthinkafternineyearsitwassafetoassumenothingwasgoingtohappen.Theywerejustfriends.I
thinktherealitywasthatGeorgepreferredthefantasywomenofhiscomicbooks,cartoons,andvideo
gamesoverreallifewomen.Isometimeswonderedifhewasgaybutdidn’tknowit,orjustafraidto
admitittohimself.

Hesaid,“So,howwasdinnerwithChelsealastnight?”
“Dinner?Nuhuh.Itwasn’tdinner.Mylyingsistertrickedmeintogoingspeeddating.”
“Speeddating?Sheshould’vetakenyouspeedskating.”
“Skating?”
“Yup.”
Ishookmyhead.ItwassuchaGeorgethingtosay.Isaid,“Um,isthatagoodwaytomeetguys?”
Helaughed.“HowshouldIknow?I’veneverbeen.ButIdefinitelywould’vetakenyouspeedskating.

Thatwouldmakeagreatfirstdate.”

Ithoughtitwouldmakeaterriblefirstdate,butIsuddenlyfoundmyselfwonderingifhewashinting

weshouldgoonafirstdate.No,thatwasjustwishfulthinking.Wesaweachotherallthetime.Hewasn’t
interestedandIwasoldenoughtorealizethat.Buthewasstillmybestfriend.

“Hey,”Isighed.“Whatareyoudoingtoday?Doyouwannahangout?”
“I’malreadyhangingoutupinFresno.”
“AreyouatanotherBronyconvention?”Georgewasn’tafull-fledgedBrony,butIalwaysgavehim

crapaboutitbecausehedidwatchMyLittlePonyreligiously,andhadtakenmetotwoBrony
conventions.

“No,I’matmygrandma’shouse.Iwon’tbehomeuntillatetonight.”
“Oh,”Isaid,disappointmentobviousinmyvoice.
“Ifyou’rebored,maybeyoushouldgospeedskating.”
“Wouldyougowithme?”Ifeltarushofhopefulexcitement.
“Areyoucrazy?Idon’tknowhowtospeedskate.Thoseskatesarelikeknives.Somebodywouldend

upwiththeirfingerscutoff.Youshouldn’tgoeither.”

Sigh.“Goodpoint.Howaboutrollerskating?”
“Fingerscrushedunderthewheels.Sodon’tevergorollerskating.You’vebeenwarned.”Nowhe

wasjoking.

Ilaughed,“I’lltakethatunderadvisement.”
“Well,Ishouldprobablygo.I’mtakingMamstobrunch.”
“Okay,talktoyoulater.”
IsighedasIdrovehomealone.
NowIofficiallyhadnothingtodotodayandnoonetodoitwith.Ihatedspendingmydaysoffby

myself.TherewastheslightchancethatI’dgetacallfromZackorMikefromlastnight,butIwasn’t
holdingmybreath.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Backatmyapartment,IsatonmycouchreadingatatteredpaperbackcopyofTheGirlontheTrain.

I’dalreadyreaditonce.Whynotreadittwice?Ihadnothingelsetodo.

Heavythudsoutsidecaughtmyattention.
Itwistedaroundandlookedoutmyfrontwindow.BecauseIwasonthesecondstory,thebalcony

walkwayoutsidehadatendencytobouncewhenpeoplewalkedalongit.Ialwayslookedtomakesure
therumblingwasapersonandnotanearthquake.

Itwasaperson,butitwasn’tsomeoneIrecognized.Somebigguyholdingahugeblackchairinhis

arms.Hedroppeditoutsidemyfrontdoorandmyentireapartmentshook.

Ijumpedwithfright.
Theguyvaultedoverhischairanddisappearedfromview.
Whattheheck?

Keysjingledinthelocknextdoor.Thedoorcreakedopenandbootsthuddedinside.
Iyankedmydooropentoinvestigate.Thebigblackchairwascompletelyblockingmyfrontdoor.The

backofitwassquareagainstmydoorframe.Iftherewasafireorearthquake,I’dbetrappedinside.

Wastheinconsiderateloutmynewneighbor?Theapartmentnexttominehadbeenvacantforalmosta

month.Whoeverthisjerkwas,Ineededtogivehimapieceofmymind.

“Excuseme!”ItriedtoleanmyheadoverthechairsoIcouldseenextdoor,butIwastooshorttoget

agoodvieworclimboverit.Itriedpushingthechairoutoftheway,butitbangedupagainstthebalcony
railing.Theonlywaytomoveitwastoslideitleftorright.Itriedtobudgeit,butitwastooheavyandI
couldn’tgetanyleverage.Maybeyellingwouldwork.“Hey!Yourchairisblockingmydoor!”

Yes,Iwasirritated.
Iwaitedpatientlyforareplybutdidn’tgetone.
“Hello?!”
Noanswer.
Gettingmoreirritated.
“Hey!Areyougoingtomoveyourchair?!I’mstuckinmyapartment!”
Iwaited,nowangry.
Apparentlyhehadn’theardme.Ordidn’tcare.
Whatanass.
Iploppeddownonmycouchandpickedupmybook.
Tenminuteslater,thechairwasstillblockingmydoor.Somepeople.Didtheynotknowtheworld

didn’trevolvearoundthem?

Geesh.
Ihadtopee,soIclosedmydoorandwenttothebathroom.WhileIwaspeeing,WHAM!Theentire

apartmentshook.Hadthecavemanjustbrokenmydoordown?Itsuresoundedlikeit.Ifhe’dbroken
anything,PetraktheapartmentmanagerwouldmakemepayforitunlessIcouldproveIwasn’ttheone
whodamagedthings.

AssFacehadtheworsttiming.
WhenIfinishedinthebathroomandfinallyopenedmyfrontdoor,thechairwasgone.
ButAssFacehadleftmeapresent:ahugeblackskidmarkwherethechairhadobviouslyslammed

againstmydoor.Therewerealsolonggougesinthewood.Youcouldn’tmissitifyouwereblind.Petrak
wouldn’tmissiteither,andhewasanangrydrunkwhohadnopatienceforanyoneelse’sproblems.

Mybloodboiledandmyfaceturnedred.
Obviously,AssFacehadnoideawhohewasdealingwith,otherwisehewould’vetakenmorecare

whilemovinghischair.Istuckmyheadthroughthecaveman’sopenfrontdoor,readytoyellhisfaceoff.
Buttheonlythingintheemptyfrontroomandkitchenareawasthatstupidblackchair.Wherewashe?
Nothere.Ihadhalfamindtogetabutcherknifefrommykitchenandslashthecrapoutofit.

“Hello?!Anyjerkhome?!”Iwasfurious.
Nosignofthecaveman.
“Hello?!”Iwasn’tthekindofpersontobargeintosomeoneelse’sapartmentwithoutpermission,butI

wasn’taboveyelling.“Hey!Neighbor!Yourchairwreckedmydoorandleftahugeskidmarkonit!You
needtofixit!”Icringedatthesoundofmyvoice.Iprobablysoundedlikeacompletebitch,whichI
wasn’t.Askthepeoplewhoworkedformeatthe95CentStore.Butcomeon.Didthisguyhaveno
respectforotherpeople’sproperty?“Hey!Areyouinhere?Anybodyhome?!”Okay,Iwaspissed.He
wasjustignoringme.Likeeveryotherguyontheplanet.Iwasn’tworthhistime.Iwasn’t—

“Somethingwrong?”Abassyvoiceboomedbehindme.Itreverberatedthroughmyentirebodyina

pleasurablewaythatIimmediatelyhated.Hatedbecauseitwasn’tmeantforme.Itwasmeantforwomen
likeChelseaorotherqualifiedsupermodelswhomendidn’tignorethisblatantly.

Iturnedaroundslowlyintoawallofabs.
Shirtlessabs.Theabsworeathickleatherbeltwithahugestainlesssteeleaglebuckle,darkblue

jeans,andscuffedupworkboots.Iwasafraidtolookupandseewhatwasattachedtotheabs.Icould
smellcleanmansweat.Makethatsex.Mansex.Itriedtoignoreit.TheabsV-eddowntoaverybulgy
bulgebelowhiseaglebeltbuckle.Wowohwow.DidIdarelookup?Idared.Because,althoughthese
absalonewereworththeirweightingold,theassfaceattachedtothemneededtofixmydoor.

Myeyescrawleduphisabs.
Adropletofsweattrickleddownbetweenbeefypectoralmuscles.Toeitherside,nippleringsdangled

frompiercednipples.Razorsharptattoosslicedacrossshouldersanddownmuscledarms.Astrongjaw
wassand-paperedwithdarkstubble.Fulllips.Finelysculptednose.Blazingblueeyes.Unrulydevil-
may-caredarkhair.

Oh,no.
Hisassfacewasgorgeous.Nothingassyaboutit.
MikeandZackfromlastnighthadnothingonthisguy.
Thisguywasacertifiedstud.
Icouldonlystareathimandswoon.Notgood.
Icouldn’tevenbreathe.MychestwaslockedtightwithfrightbecauseIknewthisperfectspecimenof

ruggedmanhoodwasnowlookingdirectlyatmyshrunkenmoleeyesthroughmywindowsizedglasses.
Notthebestlookformakingagoodfirstimpressiononthesexiestneighborofalltime.

Blaze,I’mcallinghimBlazebecauseofhisblazingblueeyes,stareddownatme,hisfacean

inscrutablestonemask.

God,hewaspainfullygorgeous.
Andverymuchgodlike.
Swoon,swoon,swoon.
Thiswasthemomentinthemoviewhenthehandsomemanwhoretookonelookattheheartstruck

heroine,fellhopelesslyinlovewithher,andchangedhiswhoringwayssotheycouldmarryandmake
beautifulbabiesandlivehappilyeverafter.ButthelookonBlaze’sfacedidnotresembleloveatfirst
sightorloveatall.Itlookedmorelikedisgust.No,disinterest.Obviously,hewasn’tintofemalegarden
gnomesorgardentrollsorwhateverhethoughtIwas.Heck,foralltheinteresthewasshowingme,he
mightnotevenknowIwasstandinghere.

WasIhurtheclearlywasn’tinterested?
Orcoursenot.
Iwaspissedhe’dbrokenmyfrontdoor.ButIdidmybesttobepolite.Myglasseshadsliddownmy

nose,soIpushedthemup.“Um,youruinedmydoorwithyourchair.”

Hefrowned,“Whoareyou?”Whyareyoubotheringme,youminiaturemolecreature?
“I’myourneighbor,”Ichucklednervously.“Ilivenextdoor.You,um,bangedyourchairagainstmy

frontdoor?”Isoundedpathetic.Ishouldbelecturinghimaboutgougingitanddemandinghepayforit.

Heshrugged,hiseyesnowblazingcold.“And?”
Wasthatallhecouldsay?NowIwasgettingmad.“And,”Imockedsarcastically,“youneedtogo

explaintothemanagerthatyoudidit.”

“Didwhat?”
“Brokemydoor!”
Apparently,brainsandbeautydidnotalwaysgotogether.Ifoldedmyarmsacrossmychestdefiantly.
Heputhishandsonhisnarrowhipscasually.Afteramoment,heglancedoveratmyfrontdoor.

“Looksfinetome,”hedrawled.

“Fine?!Thatbigblackgougewasn’ttherebeforeyouthrewyourchairagainstit!”
Hearchedaneyebrowandstaredatme.Translation:Wouldyougoaway,yousquatlittletroll?

You’renotonmyradar.Getit?

Iarchedbothmyeyebrowsandwiggledmyhead.Translation:Asshole,youneedtofixmydoor!
Hetookalongerlookatmydoorandsighed,“I’lltakecareofit.”
Ibarked,“When?”
Hiseyesnarrowedandheglaredatme,“WhenIgetaroundtoit.”
“Wouldyoumindtellingmewhenthatis?”Iwastryingtobepoliteandnotrunhimoff.Why?

Honestly,I’dneverstoodthisclosetoamanthishotforthislong,andIdidn’twanthimtogoawayjust
yet.Ihadhormones.Iwasn’timpervioustohotmen.Eventheoneswhoareinconsideratedickholes.

“IsaidI’llgetaroundtoit.”
“Whenisthat?”Itriedtosoundpolite,butitcameoutbitchy.
Blazebrokeeyecontact.“I’vegotshittomove.You’reinmyway.”
“Whataboutmydoor?”
“I’llfixitlater.”
WashebeingniceorwasIjustwishing?
IknowIwaswishinghewouldaskmyname.IsuspectedhewasaniceguyunderhisAssFace

exterior.Ifhewouldbetheslightestbitpolite,Iwouldgladlyhelphimmoveinhisfurnitureorwhatever
elseheneededtoputinhisapartment.Iwouldalsooffertomakelemonadeforhimorbuyhimacoldsix
packofwhicheverbeerhepreferred.Andpizza.Youalwaysboughtpizzawhenyouhelpedsomeone
move.Yeah,yeah,yeah.IwantedtodotealloverBlazeinthehopesthathe’dsweepmeupinhisarms,
throwmeonthenearestbed(whichwouldbemine)anddoteallovereveryinchofmybody.

Hemadeabro-hand(thumbextendedwithpinkyhookedout)andcockeditoverhisshoulder.“Move.

You’reinmyway.”

Geez.Theleasthecoulddowasintroducehimselfandoffertoshakehandslikeanormalperson.But

no.Hewasgivingmethisdismissivebro-hand.SoIsquaredmyshouldersanddugmyheelsinand
refusedtomove,blockinghisdoorway.

“Really?”Hesaiditwiththeleastamountofinterestpossible.
Isecretlyhopedhewouldmanhandlemeandthrowmeoutofhisway,whichwouldofcourserequire

himtogetreallycloseandpickmeup.Girlscouldbecleverlikethat.Trickthemintofondlingyou.I’d
hearditworked.MaybenotonguyslikemyfriendGeorge.ButonguyslikeBlazeforsure.

Instead,Blaze’sfacesouredwithdisgust.Heturnedandwalkeddownthebalcony,leavingme

standinginfrontofhisopenapartment.

“Youbetterfixmydoor!”
Hisshirtlessmuscledbackrippledwhilehewalked.Thehypnoticdanceofhischiseledflesh

perfectionmademesquirmandsqueezemykneestogether.Didtheyreallymakementhishot?Because
I’dneverseenonebeforeinreallife.Iwantedhimtowantmesobadithurt.

“Hey!Youleftyourdoorwideopen!”
Hedidn’tanswer.Buthedidflipmeoff.
LikeIwasanafterthought.
Hedidn’teventurntofaceme.Justhalfheartedlyraisedhisarmanddismissivelyflickedhismiddle

finger.

“Dirtybutthole!”IhatedhimeventhoughIstillwantedhim.
Hedidn’trespond,justkeptwalking.
“I’mgonnastealallyourstuff!”Theonlythinginhisapartmentwasthatstupidblackchair.
Blazedidn’tslowdown.Attheendofthebalcony,heturnedintothestairwellandsauntered

downstairs.

WasIheartbrokenorhurt?
Neither.

Honestly,Iwassurprisedhe’dbotheredtotalktomeatall.
Notthatthatmadehimanylessofanass.
IfChelseahadbeenhere,I’msurehewould’vetalkedtoher.
Iscowledtomyself.
Okay,maybeIwasalittlehurt.

Chapter5

Onceagain,Isatonmycouchwithmyfrontdooropen,readingmybook,andwaitingforBlazeto

return.

Hedidn’t.
ButIhadabunchoffliesbuzzingaroundmyapartment.
StupidBlaze.
Anhourlater,hestillwasn’tback,buthisfrontdoorwasstillwideopen.Iguesshewasn’tworried

aboutanyonestealinghishugechair.Iconsideredclosinghisdoorforhim,butIdidn’tthinkitwasmy
place.Whatifhe’dlefthiskeyinside?Ididn’twanthimgettinglockedout.Hewouldhavetodealwith
Petrak.Petrakhateditwhenyoulostyourkey.Healsochargedyou$125tore-keythelock.

IconsideredlookingaroundBlaze’sapartmentforhiskey,butIwasn’tasnoopandIdidn’twanthim

tocatchme.Whatwouldhethinkofmethen?Probablylessthanhealreadydid.

I’lladmitIconsideredbakingacakeforhimtomakepeace.Asaneighborlygesture.Sincewewere

goingtobesharingawall,itwastheleastIcoulddo.ButIdidn’t.Iknewfromexperiencethatyoucould
showeraguyyoulikedwithattentiononadailybasisandhewouldstillignoreyou.

Blazecouldbakehisowndamncake.
Iwasn’tbitter.
WhenIrealizeditwasalmostoneo’clock,IgrabbedmyiPhonetocheckmyemail.Iwasdyingtofind

outwhichifanyspeeddatersfromlastnightwereinterestedinme.MikeandZackhadn’tignoredme.
They’dbothbeenveryinterestedinme.Maybesomeoftheotherguyswereinterestedtoo.

IscrolledthroughandfoundtheemailfromExtremeSpeedDatingLA.
ThenameremindedmeofMikeandallhistalkaboutextremeandun-extreme.Ismiledtomyself.By

thetimeIfinishedscanningtheemail,Iwasscowling.

Ihadnomatches.
None.
Icouldn’tbelieveit.
Twoorthree,maybe.Butnone?
Whathappenedtostupidpinch-facedMike?WasItooextremeforhim?Orwashejustaliar?Washis

Mr.Interestedroutineallanact?Iwasn’tsure.Maybeheforgotaboutmeaftertwentyotherdates.Yeah,
thatwasprobablyit.Howcouldyouexpectsomeonetorememberyouamongstthatmanyotherpeople?
I’msureIjustslippedhismind.

(he’snotinterested)
Isighed.
Atleastoneguyhadn’tforgottenme.Zack.Ievenhadhisnumberandhehadmine.Ireallywantedhim

tocall.Sure,hehadn’tyet,butwe’djusthaddinnerlastnight.Icouldn’texpecthimtocalltoday,couldI?
Icouldcallhim,butIdidn’twanttoscarehimoffbycallingtoosoon.He’dthinkIwasneedy.But,after
myruninwithButtheadBlaze,Ididfeelworthlessandalittlebitneedy.Notalot.Justalittle.Alittlebit
ofmandistractionwoulddowondersformerightnow.

IbroughtupZack’snumberinmylistofcontacts.Myfingerhoveredoverthecallbutton.Atthelast

second,IcalledChelseainstead.BesttogetheradvicebeforeIdidsomethingIcouldn’ttakeback.I
calledheronFaceTime.

“Hey,Jay.What’sup?”Herfacefilledthescreen.

“AreyouataBARTstation?”BARTwasthesubwayinSanFrancisco.
“Yeah.LissaandIaregoingtoBerkeleytoshop.”SheturnedthephonetofaceMelissa,whowaved.
I’dmetMelissabeforeandlikedher.Iwavedback.
Chelseaturnedthephonebacktoherself.“Didyouhearbackfromtheguyslastnight?”
“No.”
“What,didyounotgettheemail?”
“Igottheemail.ItapologizedthatIdidn’tgetanymatches.”
“None?WhataboutMike?”
“That’swhatIsaid,”Igrumbled.
“Well,you’vegotZack’snumber.Ilikedhim.”
“That’swhyIwascalling.ShouldItexthimorwaituntilhetextsme?”
“Callhim.Leaveavoicemail.You’rebothadults.”
“Ican’tdothat.I’llsounddesperate.”
“Sotexthim.”
“When,now?”
“Surenow.”ItwassoeasyforChelseatoactlikethis.Menchasedher.Shedidn’tchasethem.She

neverfollowedanydatingruleseither,shejustdidwhatshewantedandmenstilldrooledoverher.To
hercredit,sheneverplayedhardtogetbecauseshewashardtoget.SomanymenwantedChelseaitwas
ridiculous.Butshewantedahusband,notanotherboyfriendorfriendwithbenefits.Shewasreadyto
settledownandstartafamily,soshewaswaitingfortherightguytocomealong.

Isaid,“DoyoureallythinkIshouldtextZacknow?”
“Goforit.”
“Okay,I’lldoit.”Iswipedovertothemessengerapp.Myexcitementwasmakingmejittery.“What

shouldIsay?”

“Anything.Justbeyourself.”Chelseawasalwayssoencouraginganditsetmeatease.“Anddon’tbe

ironic.”

“Okay.”IlaughedandsaidwhatIwastypingoutloudtoChelsea.“HeyZack.It’sJanefromspeed

dating.”Ihitthesendbutton.

“Perfect.Hey,haveyoutalkedtoMomorDadlately?”
“Notinacoupleweeks.Why?”
“Momcalledtodayandsaidyouhaven’tbeenouttovisither.”
“Didyoutellheryouwerejustintownandyoudidn’tvisiteither?Pasadenaisn’tthatfarfromWest

LA,youknow.”

“Iknow,”shegroaned.“ButyouknowmeandMomarehavingathingrightnow.”
“Don’tremindme.”Irolledmyeyes.Theywerealwayshavingathing.WebothknewMomandDad

heldhertomuchhigherstandardsthantheydidme,butnoonewouldeveradmitit.Consequently,Mom
wasalwaysdisappointedwithChelsea’sdecisions.Icouldneverfigureoutwhy.Chelseawassuccessful
andhappy,sowhat?“Youknow,youandMomreallyoughta—”Myphonechimed.“Ohwait!Ijustgota
textfromZack!Itsays,‘Hey,canyoutalkrightnow?’WhatshouldIsayback?”

“Callhim.”
“ShouldI?”
“Yeah.Andcallmebackafter.”
“Okay.”IhungupanddialedZack.
“Hey,sunshine.”
“Hey,Zack.”Iwasgiddythathealreadyhadanicknameforme.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Justchillin.You?”

“MakingSundayplans,”hesaidcasually.
“Oh?Whatkind?”Myhandsshookwithexcitement.
“Dependsonwhatyou’redoing.Areyoufreelater?”
Myheartraced.ShouldIsayyesorwouldthatsounddesperate?IwishedChelseawasbesidemeto

walkmethroughthis.Screwit.“Yeah,I’mfree.”

“WhatdoyouthinkaboutgoingdowntoVeniceforastrollontheboardwalk?Weather’snice.”
“Thatsoundsgreat!”Igasped.Morecalmly,“Imean,sure.Yeah,sure.Icoulddothat.”
Hechuckledontheotherendoftheline.“Willitjustbeyouandme,orwillChelseacomealongto

chaperonelikelasttime?”

Thatwasweird.Eventhewayhesaiditwasweird,likehewantedhertocomewithus.Andprobably

nottochaperone.Attimeslikethis,Ireallyhatedhavingahotsister.“Gosh,Zack.Idon’tknow.Doyou
wantmetocallherandask?”Hedidn’tknowshewasinSanFrancisco.

“Sure.Whynot?”Hesaiditcasually,buttherewasanunderlyinghintofbullshitIcouldsmellovermy

iPhone.Amazinghowgoodtechnologywasthesedays.

Iscowledtomyself.Becauseifyouwereonlyinterestedinme,youwouldn’twanthercomingalong,

dumbass.“Hmmm,letmethink,Zack.”Mysarcasmwasclearasday.“DoIwanttogooutwithjustyou,
orshouldIbringalongmyhotsister?”

Hechucklednervouslybutdidn’tsayanything.
Igrumbled,“OrmaybeIcanjusthavehermeetyouinVenicewhileIstayhomeandeattatertots.”
“Tatertots?”
“Shutup,Zack.You’renotinterestedinme,areyou?”
Hechuckledagain,butstillsaidnothing.
“Geez,Zack.Areyouthatmuchofadirtytoiletbowl?”
“Hahaha.”
“Yesyouare.”Icouldhearitinhisvoice.Irolledmyeyes.“Whydidn’tyoujustaskChelseaforher

numberinsteadofwastingmytime?”

“Uhhh…”
“Goodbye,Zack.Don’tevercallmebecauseIwon’tgiveyoumysister’snumber.Ever.ForgetI

exist.”

IendedthecallandimmediatelydialedChelz.
“What’sthescoop?”ShesmiledoverFaceTime,nowonBART.Thenoisefromthetrainwasreally

loud.

“Hewasintoyou,notme!”Isungtriumphantly.“You!Not!Me!”
Sheslumped,hermouthsaggingwithdisappointment.“I’msorry,Jay.Ireallythought—”
“NEXTSTOPMONTGOMERYSTREET.NEXTSTOP,MONTGOMERYSTREET.”Itwasthetrain

operatorontheintercomandthesounddrownedChelseacompletelyout.

“ForgetaboutZack,”Chelseasaid,“Zackisadick.Ifyoueverbumpintohim,punchhimintheface

forme.”

“HowaboutIpunchhiminhisdick?”
“Samething,”shewinked.
TheBARTtrainstartedbrakingandturninganditmadeloudsquealsandgrindingnoises.ButIcould

seeChelsea’sbeautifulfacesmilingbackatme.Isnapped.

“Ihateyou,ChelseaJohnson!Doyouknowthat?!Ihateyoubecauseyou’rebeautifulandIhateyou

becauseyou’renice!AndIhateyoubecauseyou’remysister!”Iwastryingnottocry.Ihadnoideaif
Chelseahadheardmyrantoverthetrainsqueals,butIdidn’treallycare.Iwasintoomuchpain.

Whenthenoisefaded,shesaid,“Whatdidyousay?It’sreallyloudinhere.”
“Nothing.”Ishookmyheadandlookedaway,wantingtohidesomewhereanddie.

“I’msosorryaboutthis,Jay.There’llbeotherguys.Ipromise.Jay?Areyouokay?”
Icouldn’tlookatherforalongtime.Suddenly,myangerflaredagain.“Thisisallyourfault!You

knowthat?Youmademegospeeddating!Youmademe!Thiswouldn’thavehappenedifI’dstayed
home!”

“ItoldyouI’msorry,Jay.Ineverthoughtthiswouldhappen.Imean,Ijustwantedyoutogetoutsoyou

couldmeetsomemen.”

“Thisalwayshappens,Chelsea!Always!”NowIwascryingandsmearedatearacrossmycheek.
“Oh,Jay.Forgetabouttheassholesoftheworld.There’splentyofniceguysoutthere.Guyslike

George.”

“Georgeisn’tinterestedinme,Chelz!He’snotinterestedinanybody!”Iwascryinghardnow.
“YouknowwhatIme—”
“NEXTSTOP,EMBARCADERO.NEXTSTOP…EMBARCADERO.”
Igrimaced.“Ihavetogo.”
“Jay!Wait!Don’thangup!Jay!”
Iendedthecallanddroppedmyphoneonthecouchandwalkedoutmyfrontdoorwithnoideawhere

Iwasgoing.

Diditreallymatter?

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

IwalkedfortwohoursintheLAheat.ItwasalwayshotinLosAngeles,eveninFebruary.
Atthemoment,IhadnoideawhereIwas.SomewhereinBrentwoodHeightswhereallthemansions

werecrammedtogetheronlushtree-linedstreets.

Iwasdyingofthirst.
Ididn’treallycare.
LAwashavingadroughtandIwastoo.Apersonaldrought.
Amandrought.
Iscowledatmyselfandpushedmyglassesupmynose.Theykeptslidingdownbecausemyfacewas

greasyfromalltheexertion.AlthoughI’dleftmyhoodieathome,IwasdyinginmypurpleLumpySpace
PrincessT-shirtbecauseI’drunoutofsweat.MyskinwascoldandclammyandIwasdangerously
dehydrated.Iwasalsogettingasunburnonmyfaceandarms.

Good.
MaybeIwoulddieofskincanceranddehydrationallonthesameday.Comeandgetme,Death.Take

metothehereafter.ASAP.

Istartedturningstreetsatrandom,notcaringifIgotlost.
Themansionsgotlargerandlarger.SeveralhadtenniscourtsandIsawswimmingpoolsinthe

backyardsbetweenthetrees.ThesmellofthechlorinatedwaterremindedmeofhowthirstyIwas.I
smackedmydrylips.Atonepoint,IcouldseeTheGettyCenterhighonthehillsidethatoverlookedallof
SantaMonica,WestLA,andthePacificOcean.Theyhaddrinkingfountainsatthemuseum,butIdidn’t
thinkIcouldgettherefromthissideofthemountain.

SoIkeptwalkingandturning.
Afewstreetslater,Iendedupinaculdesac.Ididn’tknowifitwastheheat,mydehydration,ormy

frustration,butIsuddenlyfeltnauseous.Inearlycollapsedintheshadeofseveralbigbananatrees
plantedattheedgeofsomeone’swalledofffrontyard.InthispartofBrentwoodHeightswhere
everybodyhadamansion,everybodyalsohadfencesandgatesthatcouldonlybeclimbedbyfully
hydratedninjas.

Iwasneitherninjanorhydrated.
Worse,Iwasn’tsurehowmuchfurtherIcouldwalkandIwasstartingtoworry.Ididn’thavemy

phonesotherewasnooneIcouldcalltopickmeup.Icouldn’tevencallanUbercar.

WhenIswallowed,mythroatwassoscratchyIstartedcoughing.ThenextthingIknew,Icouldn’tstop

andIstartedheavingupmyguts,butIhadnothingtoheave.I’ddigestedmybreakfasthoursagosonowI
wasalldriedup.

Didanybodyhaveagardenhose?Iknewyouweren’tsupposedtodrinkfromhosesbecauseofthe

toxins,butIdidn’tcareatthispoint.Ifitwasn’tforallthesedamngates,Icouldeasilysneakinto
someone’syardandstealadrink.Wasitpossibletodieofthirstinthemiddleofaneliteneighborhood
becausealltherichjerkslivedbehindwallsandsecuritygatesandhoardedtheirwater?

Itsureseemedlikeit.
Forsomereason,thatreallyirritatedme.Istoodupandwalkedtothenearestgate.Tallpalmsand

broadleafedtropicalshrubssurroundedit.Thisplacelookedlikeajungleoasis.Plantsdidn’tstaythis
greenwithoutplentyofwater.Sowherewasmydamnglass?It’snotlikeIneededagallon.

Justaglass.
Iwantedtoscreamatsomebody,anybody.ButIwasn’tgoingtoscreamattheshrubbery.
IlookedaroundfranticallyuntilIfoundalittlemetalspeakerboxonametalpole.Tapedtoitwasa

smallpieceofpaperwithahandwrittennotethatread:Pressbuttonforestatesale.

Ipressedthebuttonandwaited.
Nobodyanswered.Ofcoursenobodyanswered.Richpeoplehatedpoorpeople,especiallywhenthey

werethirsty.Stupidgreedywaterhoarders.

Iwasabouttowalkawaywhenamalevoicespokeoverthespeaker.“Yes?”
“I’mherefortheestatesale,”Ilied.
“You’llneedapermitifyouparkedonthestreet.Isyourcarparkednearby?”Couldheseeme?Yep.

Pokingfromtheshrubsabovemyheadwasasecuritycamera.

“Iwalked.”
“Walked?Fromwhere?”Apause.“Whoareyou?”
“WhoamI?”Whowasthisasshole?“Look,Ijustneedaglassofwater.I’vebeenwalkingaroundall

dayintheheatandIthinkI’msunburnedandI’mgoingtodieofheatstrokeifIdon’tgetsomewaterand
someshadesoon.CanIjustcomeinandgetaglassoftapwater?I’llpayforit.”Richpeopleloved
money.

Therewasnoreplyforalongtime.
“Hey!”Ishoutedatthelittlebox.“Benice,okay?I’monlyaskingforafrickingglassofwater!”I

triedtoshakethespeakerboxbutthemetalpolewastoosturdyandIcouldn’tbudgeit.“Youstupidrich
asshole!”

Iturnedtogo.Maybehisneighborswerenicer.
Thegatebuzzedbehindmeanditrolledacrossatrack,disappearingintoastonewallhiddenbehind

theshrubs.Iexpectedtoseeabutlerwalkdownthestonelineddrivewearingablacktux.Alinennapkin
wouldbefoldedoverhisforearmandhe’dbepalmingasilvertraythatheldatinyshotglasswithone
swallowofwaterinit.He’dsay“Yourwater,madam,”andhe’dstandbesidemeandscowlwhileI
drankit,likehewasdoingmeahugefavor.Thenhe’dgowithoutofferingsecondsorapologizingfor
callingmemadaminsteadofmiss.

Anyway,thatdidn’thappen.
Thespeakerboxsaid,“Didyouwantthewaterornot?”
“Areyouapersonorarobot?”
“Doesitmatter?”
“No!Yes!Ijust—”

“I’mverybusyrightnow.Walkupthedrive,someonewillgetyouwaterandsomesunscreen,thenyou

canleave.”Thespeakerboxclickedoff.

Istaredatthebox.Howrude!
Theboxclickedon.“I’mgoingtoclosethegatenow.You’dbettercomeinside.I’mnotopeningit

again.”Despitehisgenerosity,somethingabouthistonewasextremelyirritating.

Iwantedtoshout,YOUANDYOURWATERCANFUCKTHEFUCKOFF!!
Instead,Irushedthroughthegate.IttrundledclosedbehindmeasIwalkedupthedrive,whichwas

reallyafull-fledgedroadcoveredinstonepavers.Itcurvedupthroughthetreesandemergedonahuge
circularparkingarea.Atallfountainsatinthecenter.Lifesizedwingedstonecherubsfloatedarounda
bunchoflifesizednakedstonemaidens.Thecherubsspatstreamsofwaterintothesurroundingpooland
themaidenspoureditfromvases.Thefountainlookedlikethekindyou’dseeinahugetownsquare
somewhereinEurope,notaBrentwoodmansion.

Didn’ttheassholeownerknowwewerehavingadrought?
Iconsideredclimbingintothefountainanddunkingmyheadinthewateranddrinkinglikeawild

animal,butIcouldsmellthechlorineandIdidn’twanttogetanysicker.Icouldsplashthroughthestupid
fountainonmywayout.Ifthejerkwhoownedthisplaceactedanyjerkier,Iwouldsquatandpeeinit.

Theparkingareaheldabouttencarsandhadroomformore.BMWs,Mercedes,andBentleys,or

whateverrichpeopledrovewhentheyweren’tdrivingtheirFerraris.TherewasalsoaFerrari.Anda
brandnewblueLamborghini.Ihadtowalkaroundthebackofittoreadthelogoonthetrunk,butitwas
therealdeal.Itlookedlikeabluespaceship.

Thehugetwostoryhousewasoldandunkempt.Itremindedmeofoneofthosedecrepitrundown

mansionsyousawinmovieslikeSunsetBoulevardorTheHouseonHauntedHill.Ormaybethathotel
fromTheShining.Ishudderedatthethought.I’msurewhoeverlivedherewasequallycreepy.

“Didyouwantyourwaterornot?”Thevoicewasanirritatingbaritonethatwould’vebeensexyifit

didn’tsoundsoimpatientwithme.Theownerofitstoodinfrontoftheelaboratewoodandleadedglass
doublefrontdoors.Basedonourspeakerboxconversation,Ihadexpectedhimtolooklikeareallife
versionofmeanoldMr.BurnsfromTheSimpsonsandbewearingavelvetsmokingjacket.Instead,he
woreadarksleekthreepiecesuitwithaconservativetieandmatchingpockethandkerchief.Thesuit
lookedasexpensiveastheLamborghiniandwaytoohotforthisweather.UnlikeMr.Burns,thisguywas
moviestarhandsome.Early30sattheoldest.Cleanshavenwiththickchestnutbrownhairsweptbackin
anelegantwaveoverhisflawlessfeatures.Thesuithuggedhisbroadshouldersandnarrow-waisted
body.Notabodybuilder,butclearlyafinephysiqueunderneath.

Hefrownedatme,“Idon’thaveallday.”
“Sorryforbeingdehydratedinyourneighborhood.ThenexttimeI’mdyingofthirst,I’llmakesureit’s

inapoorneighborhoodwherethepeoplearenicer.”

Helookedamused.Inanangryway.“There’splentyofwaterinthefountain.Youcanalwaysdrink

that.”

Iscowled,“Iconsideredgoingforaswim,butIdon’twanttoendorseyourwastingofwater.Weare

havingadrought,youknow.”

“ThenIguessyoudon’twantmywater.”
“Iknewyouwereanasshole!”
Iwasn’tnormallylikethis,butIwasextrairritablebecauseoftheheatandthedehydrationandthe

wayZackhadtreatedmeearlier.AndthatjerkBlaze,mynewneighbor.Andthishandsomejerk.Andthat
jerkMike.AndmybloodsugarwasprobablylowbecauseI’dbeenwalkingforhoursonanempty
stomach.

RichGuyslidhishandsinthepocketsofhisslacksandglaredatme.“Shutup.Getinside.Havea

bottleofwater.Thenyoucango.Ihavebusinesstoattendto.”Heturnedandwentthroughtheopendoor,

leavingitwideopen.

I’msurehehadtheairconditioningrunningfullblastinthisheatandhadnoconcernfortheenergyhe

waswastingbylettingallthecoolairleakout.Unlikehim,Imadeenergyconservationapriority.SoIran
upthestonestepsandshutthedoorbehindme,butonlybecauseIwasdehydratedandneededwaterand
wantedtoconserveenergy.

NotbecauseRichGuywasimpeccablygorgeous.
Ididn’tcareabouthim.
OnceIdrankasmanybottlesofhiswaterasIwanted,Iwouldtellhimwheretoshovetherestof

them.AndtosethisA/Cnocoolerthan78degreesbecauseyouknowanicyassheadlikehimsetitat70.

Totalbuttclumpwithnorespectfortheenvironment.

Chapter6

Thegrandentranceinsidethehousewasbreathtaking.
Apatternedmarblefloorstretchedfromwalltowall.Twinarchedstaircasescurvedaroundthe

circularwalls.Overhead,anenormouscrystalchandelierhungfromacathedralceiling.Ifeltbadfor
whoeverhadtosetupscaffoldingsotheycoulddustthisplace.Centeredbelowthechandelierwasan
ornaterococotablewithahugeflowerarrangementofwhatappearedtobetwohundredormorefreshcut
roses.Isteppedupandsniffed.Yup,theywerereal.

Apparently,therichbuttclumpownerofthisplacewasricherthanhewasannoying,whichIhad

thoughtimpossible.Ishookmyhead.Peoplewithtoomuchmoneywereridiculous.

Bestgetmywaterandgetoutofhere.ButIdidn’tseeabutlerwithaplatterandawaterglass,orthe

ridiculouslyhotowner.

Tomyright,atwelvefoottallarchedmirrorwassetintothewall.Whoneededamirrorthatbig?A

giant?Morelikeagiantass.Orgiantasshead.MakethatMr.GiantAsshead.

Wherewashe?
Andwherewasmypromisedwaterbottle?
Thereitwas.
Behindmeonasmallfoldingtablestoodanopenedpackofwaterbottles.Afewhadalreadybeen

removed.Igrabbedoneandtwistedoffthecapandguzzledit.Ifeltbetteralready.

WherewasMr.GiantAsshead?
Hesurewasn’thospitablebeyondthebareminimum.
NowthatIhadmywater,wasittimeformetogo?
Well,hehadmentionedsunscreen,butIdidn’tseeanyonthetable.WhatIdidseewasaguestbookof

somesort.Besideitwasaglassfishbowlwithafewbusinesscardsinside.Ireadseveralofthem.
Antiquedealers,artcollectors,jewelers.Soundedlikeanestatesaletome.

I’dbeentoestatesalesbefore.Notatanestatelikethis.Justregularhomes.Buttheywereallthe

same,right?Youwalkedaround,pickedoutwhatyouliked,thenpaidforitonyourwayout.

Iprobablycouldn’taffordanythingthegiantassheadwasselling,buthedidowemesomesunscreen.
Timetogolookforit.
Iwanderedfromroomtoextravagantroom.Thisplaceremindedmeofthoseoldmansionsfromthe

1930sand40syousawinblackandwhitemovies,butinfullfadedcolor.Idoubtedthedecorhadbeen
changedsincethisplacewasbuilt.Whathadprobablyoncebeentheheightofhighfashionnowseemed
wornoutanddreary,givingthisplaceanabandonedquality,apervasivelonelinessthatseepedfromthe
walls.Whatevergrandeurithadhadwasnowlonggone.

Itwassad,really.
Afterleavingthedrawingroom,Ifoundmyselfinahumongouskitchen.Dustycopperpotshungabove

anenormousbutcherblockisland.Twogasrangeswitheightburnersapiecesatsidebysideagainstone
wall.Tencookscouldworkthiskitchen.Throughthewindows,Isawahugepoolsurroundedbyslate
tilesandthebackyardgarden.Theyhadprobablythrownhugepartiesherebackintheday,fillingthis
placewithlifeandlaughter,butthosedayswereadistantmemory.

Inthefarcorner,anarrowstaircaseangledupstairs.
SinceAssheadwasnowheretobefoundandIstilldidn’thavemysunscreen,Idecidedtocontinuemy

search.Atthetopofthestairs,Iopenedanarrowdoorandfoundmyselfattheendofalonghallway.

Thesuddensoundofvoicesstartledme.
IdovethroughthefirstsetofdoorsIfoundandlistenedtothevoices.Theonedoingallthetalking

wasdefinitelyMr.G.A.,butIcouldn’tmakeoutwhathewassaying.Whenthevoicesfaded,Irelaxed
andlookedaround.

Thisgloomyroomwasobviouslythemasterbedroom.Theopulentfourposterbedwasadead

giveaway.ButwhatreallysnaggedmyattentionwasthemammothvanitywithHollywoodstylelight
bulbsframingthebigmirror.Ididn’tnormallylikelookingatmyselfmorethannecessary,butsomething
aboutthatvanitygavemeasenseofthatoldHollywoodmagic,thekindwhereanyonecouldbe
glamorouswiththerightlightingandtherightmakeup.Isatdownonthevanitychairandfoundthelight
switch.Thebulbspoppedonblindingbright.

Ipushedmyglassesupmynose.
Foronce,IsortoflikedthewayIlooked.
Ithadtobethelighting.Itwashedoutmyfeaturesorsomething.
IfIwantedtogofullglamourgirl,Ineededmakeupattheveryleast.Iopenedvanitydrawersat

random.Theywerefilledwitholdmakeupbottles,makeupbrushes,antiquebrassandsterlingsilver
lipsticktubes,bottlesofcoldcream,perfume,tortoiseshellcompacts,hairbrushes,andeverythingelsea
Hollywoodstarletneededtomakeherselfbeautiful.Iopenedsomeofthebottlesandjars.Everythingwas
sooldIwasafraidtotouchit.Itprobablyallhadleadinit.Orasbestos.Ortalcumpowderatthevery
least.

InotherdrawersIfoundplentyofjewelry.Mostofitcostumebutsomeofitlookedreallyexpensive.

Thepearlnecklaceslookedrealtome,butIwouldn’treallyknow.Ifeltguiltygoingthroughallofit.
Makeupwasonething,butIwasstartingtofeellikeathief.

Thatdidn’tstopmefromtryingonsomeoftheelaboratecostumenecklacesandbracelets.Justforfun.

Ialsodangledafewearringsuptomyearlobes.

“Youlookfabulous,darling,”Imutteredtomyself,shakingmyheadsotheearringssparkledinthe

Hollywoodlights.Iputthembackinthedrawerwiththeothers.Itwasprobablytimeformetogo.

ButIstillneededsunscreenforthewalkhome.
Iopenedonemoredrawer.
InsidewasawhitejewelryboxthatwascoveredinAsian-themedcarvings.Veryexotic.Dozensof

tinypeoplecoveredeverysquareinchofthebox.Iftheboxhadbeennew,Iwould’vesaiditwasmadeof
plastic.Butitlookedoldandhadthecreamylookofrealivory.

I’msuretheboxalonewasworthafortune.
Butwhatwasinside?
Ihadtofindout.
IreacheddowntopickitupbutIhesitated.
Oddly,Ihadthestrangepremonitionthatopeningthisboxwasabadidea.
Thatwascrazy.Itwasjustajewelrybox.Iwasn’tgoingtostealanything.Iwasn’tthatkindofperson.

SowhatwasIworriedabout?Imean,itwasn’tlikethiswasPandora’sbox.Itdidn’tlookthatold.Iwas
fairlyconfidentthatalltheworld’sevilswerenottrappedinside.SoifIopenedit,Iwouldn’tobliterate
allofhumanity.

Thatwasjustafolktale.
SoItooktheboxoutofthedrawerandlaiditonmylap.
ThenIliftedthelid.
IgaspedwhenIsawwhatwasinside.

Chapter7

Wow.
Theivoryjewelryboxwasfilledwithrings.
Diamondrings.
Andemeraldandrubyandsapphire,andeverycolorofpreciousstoneyoucouldimagine,allsetin

goldorplatinumringsthatappearedequallypriceless.Theywerearrangedinneatrowsonblackvelvet.

Islappedthelidshut.
Iknewwhatcostumejewelrylookedlike.
Thiswasnotcostumejewelry.
Allthestoneswerehuge.Ididn’tknowmuchaboutkarats,butIknewthereweremorekaratsinthis

jewelryboxthanBugsBunnycouldeatinalifetime.

Iopenedthelidagain.
Whyweresparklythingssohypnotic?
Whocared.
Istared.
Despitehavingadecentpayingjobatthe95CentStore,Iwasn’texactlystashingawaybundlesof

casheverymonth.Afterpaying$1,500formyonebedroomapartment,moreonmycarpayment,moreon
insurance,groceries,gas,andeveryotherover-pricedLAthing,Ihardlyhadanymoneyleftoveratthe
endofthemonth.Iwasn’tmakingmuchforwardprogressinmylife.Notwithmenandnotwithmy
career.ButIcouldmakealotofforwardprogresswithoneoftheserings…

Ortwo.
Orthree.
Islammedthelidshut.
No.Iwasn’tthatgirl.
Itwasn’tlikeIwasonthevergeofbeinghomeless.Ididn’tneedtostooptostealingfromsomeone

who’dbeenniceenoughtoinvitemeinsidehishouseandgivemewater,evenifhehadbeen70%rude
andonly30%polite.

Onemorelookdidn’tmakemeathief.
Iopenedthelid.
Wow,wow,wow.
Soincrediblysparkly…
Sometimesyoucouldonlygetagoodlookwithyourfingers.
Istartedpickingupringsandexaminedeachoneclosely,watchingthemshimmerinthevanitylights.

I’dalwayslovedbluesapphires,andoneoftheringshadahugeblueovalstone.Ihelditnearmyring
fingerandtriedtoimagineIwaswearingit.ItoccurredtomeitwouldlookbetterifIactuallyslippedit
on.Justtoseeitthewayitwasmeanttobeseen.Iwasn’tgoingtostealit.

Iheldtheringjustabovethetipofmyringfinger,readytoputiton.
Onepressingthoughtgavemepause.
ItwashighlyunlikelythatI’dslidethisringonmyfingeranditwouldgetstuck,right?
No,thatneverhappenedinsituationslikethis.
AlumpformedinmythroatandIwassuddenlyconvincedMr.G.A.wasstandingrightbehindme,

boringaholeonmybackwithhishatefulglarewhilewatchingmyeverymove.Shakingwithguilt,I

slowlytwistedaroundinthevanitychairtolook.

Isankwithrelief.
Iwasallalone.
Icarefullysettheringintheboxandputeverythingaway.
Isaggedbackinthechairandshutmyeyes,takingadeepcalmingbreath.Myheartwasstillracing.
“Findanythingyoulike?”Mr.G.A.askedinhisimposingbaritone.
“Oh!”Inearlyjumpedthroughthetwelvefootceiling.“Youjustscaredthecrapoutofme!”Nowmy

heartwashammering.

Hechuckled,flashinghisdisarminglyadorabledimples.“Whatareyoudoinginhere?”
“Lookingforsunscreen!”
“Areyousure?”
Youmean,didIstealyourpricelessjewelry?
Iblurted,“No!Imeanyes!Sunscreen!Ithoughtmaybetherewassomeinhere!”
Hegavemeastrangelookbeforewalkingintotheroom.
MyfearspikedasheapproachedbecauseIsuddenlyrealizedIwasclutchingsomethinghardand

roundinmyhands.Somethingthatfeltsuspiciouslylikearing.

Shit!Howdidthatgetthere?I’dputthemallaway!Atleast,IthoughtIhad.
Iclampedmyfingerstightlyaroundit.
Ifhecaughtmeclutchingoneofhispricelessrings,he’dhavemethrowninjail.Whatwasthecutoff

betweenpettytheftandgrandlarceny?Ithinkitwassomethinglike$500.EveryringIsawinthatboxhad
tobeworthahundredtimesthat.Orathousand.IcringedandsqueezedtheringinmyhandashardasI
couldandshovedmyfistsintomycrotch.TherewasnowayIwouldlethimseeit.

Iwasnotathief!
Itwasanaccident!
Mr.G.A.pulleduphisslacksandsatdownontopofthevanity,callingattentiontohiscrotch,which

wasnowinchesfrommyface.Sure,heworeasuitandslacks,butitwasRIGHTthereandmademe
forgetallabouttheringinmyhands.Forasecond.Ihadtostare.Athiscrotch.Butonlyforasecond.
WhatwasIgoingtodoaboutthisring?Ihadnoidea.Myeyesflickedupandmethis.Igavehimthe
guiltiestgrinever.

Hesmirkedadimpleatme.Hiseyesflickeredlikechocolatediamondsaspricelessasthegemstones

inthejewelrybox.“Somethingcatchyoureye?”

“Ha!Ha!Ha!”DidyoumeanyourcrotchortheringIstoleoryoureyesorallthree?Itoremyeyes

awayfromhis.IfIlookedatthemmuchlongerIwasgoingtospillmyguts,handhimthering,andbeghis
forgiveness.

“Areyouokay?”Heplacedgentlefingersbeneathmychinandlifteditaninchsohecouldexaminemy

face.“I’mstartingtoworryyouhaveheatstrokelikeyousaid.”

Histouchmademyentirefacetingle.Theonlytrulyhandsomeman(otherthanmydad)who’dever

touchedmewiththismuchtendernesswasmychildhooddentist,hotDr.Becker.ChelzandIusedto
swoonabouthimwhenwewerekids.ButDr.Becker’stouchnevertingledlikeMr.G.A.’stouch.Iwas
sonervousIblurted,“Yes!Heatstroke!Mybrainsareaddled!Fromalltheheat!”

“Addled?Youdon’tlookaddled.”
“Ohno,Itotallyam!Addledtothemax!”Ishookmyheadandsaid,“Rattle,rattle,rattle!”Icouldn’t

helpbutgiggle.Myglassessliddownmynose,soIpushedthemupwithasmile.“See?Totallyaddled.”
Somehow,hisglimmeringchocolategazemademefeelrelaxed.

Heleanedbackonthevanityandplantedhishandsbehindhimonthetabletop,breakingcontactwith

mychin,muchtomydisappointment.Buthisfacelitupwithafriendlysmile.“You’retoofunny.”Hewas
genuinelyamused.

WhydidIsuddenlyfeelincrediblybashful?Oh,becausethemalerunwaymodelintheslicksuit

was…Washeactuallyflirtingwithme?Ifhewas,itwasjustoutofpoliteness.ButIwasstillflattered.

“Isthereareasonyou’resqueezingyourhandsinyourlap?”
“Um,Ireallyhavetopee?”
“Mybad.I’mbeingcompletelyrude.Youcanusethebathroominhere.”Henoddedtowardthedoor

inthecorner.

Iglancedatit.AsenseofhopeseizedmeandIshottomyfeet.Icouldeasilyleavetheringinthe

bathroominamedicinecabinetorwherever,andhewouldn’tfindituntilafterIwaslonggone.“Great!”

“Onethingbeforeyougo.”
“Yeah?”
Heheldouthishandtoshakemine.“Idon’tthinkIevercaughtyourname.”Buthewasabouttocatch

meredhanded.

IclutchedtheringashardasIcould.“Oh,uhh…Jane.Ireallyhavetopee.Canwetalkafter?”
“No.Wetalknow.”Hemotionedwithhishand.
Isqueezedmykneestogether.“I’mgoingtostartleakinganysecond.Youwouldn’twantmeruining

yourrug,wouldyou?Itlooksexpensive.”

Hestaredatme.“Makeitquick.”
Iturnedandtookahopefulsteptowardthebathroom.
“Onelastthing.Jane.”Hesoundedangry.
Ifrozeinplace.“Yeah?”
“Turnaround,”hecommanded.
Idid.Myheartwasracing.Therewasnowayoutofthis.
Hefrowned,“What’reyouhidinginyourhands,Jane?”
Caught.
IfIdroppedthering,he’dseeitfall.Icouldthrowmyhandsintheair,thusthrowingtheringacross

theroom,andshout,“See!Nothingupmysleeve!”ButmypurpleLSPT-shirtdidn’tevenhavesleeves,
and,withmyluck,ifIthrewtheringitwouldeitherhithiminthefaceorbreakawindoworoneofthe
vanitymirrorsorwhoknewwhat.Buthe’dseeitforsure.

“Jane.What’reyouhiding?”
“Whatdidyousayyournamewasagain?”Iwastryingtodistracthim.
“Ididn’t.”Heheldouthispalm.“Handitover.”
“Handwhatover?”
Hewaggedhisfingers.“Now.”
MyshouldersslumpedandIstaredatthefloor,tooembarrassedtolookathim.NowIwasthegiant

asshead.“IswearIwasjustlooking.Iwasn’tgoingtotakeanything.Itfelloutbyaccident.”Byaccident?
Wow,thatsoundedtoostupidevenforme.

“Showme,”hegrowled.
Iunfoldedmyhandsinfrontofhim,cringing,expectingawhippinganysecond.
“What’sthat?”heasked.
Tomysurprise,theringIheldwasn’toneofthemillionkaratjewelsI’dfondledbeforehewalkedin.

Itwasasimplegoldbandengravedwithtwohearts.Actually,itlookedtarnished,soitwasn’tevengold.
Probablybrassoracheapalloy.Itlookedlikedthekindofworthlesstrinketswesoldatthe95CentStore
inpacksofsix.Ithadn’tbeenintheivoryboxandIhadnoideawhereitcamefrom.

Hiseyebrowsliftedcasually.“Where’dyoufindthat?”
“Ihavenoidea.Iwas…Look.I’mgoingtobeabsolutelyhonestwithyou.”
Hesmirked,“Areyousure?”
Irolledmyeyes.“Yes.Ipromise.Okay,IwastryingonsomeofthenecklacesandearringsIfoundin

thevanity,justtoseehowtheylookedonme.IkindofgotcarriedawaypretendingIwasamoviestaror
something.Imean,lookatthisvanity,right?Itforcesyoutobemoreglamorous.”DidIsoundconvincing?
IthoughtIdid.DiditmatterI’dleftoutthepartaboutlookingthroughtheivoryboxandpullingthe
pricelessringsout?Ofcoursenot.

Didhelookconvinced?Notreally.
Icontinued,“Anyway.Ididn’ttakeanything.Idon’tknowifthisringwasstucktooneofthenecklaces

orwhat.Itmust’vefalleninmylapwithoutmenoticing.Iwasn’tgoingtotakeit.Infact,I’llputitback
rightnow.”Isteppedaroundhimandsetitgingerlyonthevanitywithatinyplink!

Thesilenceintheroomwassuddenlyoverwhelming.
Hefoldedhisarmsacrosshissuitjacketandglaredatme.“HowdoIknowyoudidn’ttakeanything

else?”Whydidhehavetolooksodamnhandsomewhilehewasinterrogatingme?

“Ididn’t!”Ipushedmyglassesbackupmynoseforemphasis.
“HowdoIknowyoudon’thavesomethinginyourpockets?”
“IpromiseIdon’t.”
“Theonlywaytoknowforsureistostripsearchyou.”Hiseyesdarkeneddangerously.
“What?!”Awaveofelectricpleasurezingedthroughmyentirebody.
“Andcheckeveryoneofyourbodycavitiesbyhand.”
“Mywhat?”Iswallowedhard.“Bywhat?”
“Bytongue.”
“Didyoujustsaytongue?”
“No.”
“No,yousaid—”
“Youheardme,Jane,”hegrowled,hiseyesnarrowingwithahintofmenace.
Igawkedathim.Washeserious?Helookeddamnserious.NowIwasgettingfrightened.Iwasina

randomstrangemansionwhoknewwhere,wasn’tsureifIcouldfindmywayhome,andnowIwas
trappedinthisroomwithagorgeouslunatic.Ihadn’tevenbroughtmyphonewithmebecausestupidZack
hadwantedtomeetChelseaandnotme!Icouldn’tcallforhelpbecauseofhim!

Zack,youasshat!NowI’mscrewedbecauseofyou!Andscared!
Iswallowedhard.
Mr.G.A.glared.Washegoingtoscrewme?
Imean,notthatI’deverbeenscrewedbyamanashandsomeashim.ButIwasveryopentothe

possibility.

Thenagain,searchingbodycavitiesbyhandwasn’tscrewing.
Orwasit?
Hehadsaidbytongue…
“What’sitgonnabe,Jane?”Adevilishsmileplayedacrosshisfulllipsandperfectteeth.“DoIchain

youupinmysexdungeonandneverletyouout,or…”

Iwasafraidtoaskwhatthe“or”was.ButIsortofwantedtofindout.Hewasthathot.
Abarrageofimagesflashedthroughmymind.InallofthemIwastiedupnakedwithleatherstrapsor

handcuffs.Yes,IsawtheFiftyShadesmoviewhenitcameout.Twice.Inthetheaters.Ialsoownthe
DVD.AnddownloadedittomyiPhone.Anyway,alloftheimagesnowflashingthroughmymind
includedeverysizeandshapeofspikedandstuddedleatherS&Mweaponyoucouldimagine.Inmy
fantasy,Mr.G.A.wasshirtless,lookingsexyashellintightblackleatherpantsandboots.Hehadgreat
absandagreatass.Andshoulders.Andarms.Andchest.Onhisfaceheworeastandardblack
masquerademaskandwastuggingstoutblackleatherglovesontoeachhandlikeakinkysexsurgeon.The
tuxedoedbutlerI’dimaginedoutsidewithasilvertraynowstoodbesideMr.G.A.withatrayholdinga
many-tailedwhip.Thebutlersaid,MightIsuggestthecatofnineteentails,sir?Thisyoungstrumpet

needstobetaughtalessonshewon’tforget.

TherealMr.G.A.flashedadirtysmilethatIdidn’tlikeatall.
Icringed.FiftyShadeswasamovie.Afantasy.
Iwasn’tastrumpetandIdidn’tactuallylikepain.Atall.AndIcertainlydidn’tneedtolearnany

lessons.

“Ishouldgo,”Isaid,myvoicequivering.Whyhadn’tIbroughtmyphone?Orpepperspray?Ora

straightjacketforcrazyMr.G.A.?

“You’renotgoinganywhere,youlittlestrumpet.”
“Didyoujustcallmeastrumpet?”
Hesmiledanevilsmile.
Gulp.
Timetorun!

Chapter8

Mr.G.A.crackedasmileandheldouthishandtoshake.“I’mjustkidding.Idon’thaveasexdungeon.

Name’sWesley.WesleyCallaway.YoucancallmeWes.”

“Wait.Doyouordon’tyouhaveasexdungeon?”
“Nothere,”hewinked.
“Wait,doyoureallyhaveoneornot?”
Hesmiledmysteriously.
“I’lltakethatasayes,Wes.”
“Takeitanywayyouwant.”
Reluctantly,Ishookhishand.Itwasmuchlargerthanmineanditwasverywarm,whichIfound

comforting.

Ishookitforalongtime.
ItwasSOwarm…
Andfirm…
AndIstaredathiscrotch.
Whoops!
Imethisgazeandgiggled.“Nicetomeetyou,Wes.”
“Youcanhavetheringifyouwant.Ireallydon’thaveanyideawhereitcamefrom.”
“Oh,Idon’t—”Ifoundmyselfstaringatitwhereitlayonthevanity.Ididn’tknowwhy,butIreally

wantedtokeepit.MaybeasatokentoremindmeofWesbecauseIknewIwouldprobablyneverseehim
againandhewastreatingmemuchbetterthanmostmeneverdid.Iwantedtorememberthismoment.

Ipickedupthering.
“Putiton,”hesuggested.
“Okay.”Ididn’twanttoputitonmyringfinger.Thatfelttoosymbolic,likeWeswasproposingtome,

whichhewasn’t.Imean,amanlikehimwouldneverproposetoawomanlikeme.SoItriedtoputiton
mymiddlefinger.Unfortunately,Icouldn’tgetitpastthefirstknuckle.IgrinnedatWes.“Sorry.”Whywas
Iapologizing?

Hewasstaringstraightintomyeyes.Hisblazedwiththeirownmahoganyfire.“Tryyourringfinger.”
Myheartskippedabeat.“Okay.”Ifelttheoddestsenseofhope.Myentirechestsizzledlikesomething

specialwasabouttohappen.Somethingthatwouldchangemylifeforever.Islidtheringdownpastmy
nail…

Pastthefirstknuckle…
Andthen—
Itstoppedwellbeforethesecondknuckle.
Damnit.
Itriedtoforceit.
IwasgoingtogetthisringonmydamnringfingerevenifIhadtogrindmyskinoff!
“Idon’tthinkitfits,”Wessaid.
Washedisappointed?OrwasIprojecting?Iwasn’tsure.
“Maybetryyourpinky?”hesuggested.
“Yeah,”Imuttered,disappointedfornogoodreason.Finallyitfit.Barely.
IhelditupforWestoinspect.

Hesmiled,“Looksgreat.”
Thoselips…Inearlyswoonedrightthenandthere.InsteadIsighed.“WhatdoIoweyou?”
“Oweme?”
“Thisisanestatesale,isn’tit?”
“Itis.ButIhavenoideawherethatthingcamefrom.Youcanhaveit.”
“Don’tbesilly.Ican’tjusttakeit.Howabouttenbucks?”
“Sure,okay.I’lltaketen.”
Iwinced.“Idon’thavemypurse.”
Hechuckled,“WhatamIgoingtodowithyou,Jane?”
Anythingyouwant,SexyWes.Anything.Yes,IwasgagaforMr.G.A.G.A.GreatAbs,GreatAss.

“CanIbringthemoneybylater?”

“Iwon’tbeherelater.”
“Icouldbringitbytomorrow.”
“Iwon’tbeheretomorrow.”Heputhishandonmyshoulderinabrotherlyway.“Ireallydon’tneed

thetendollars,Jane.Butthankyouanyway.”

MyfantasywasevaporatingbeforemyeyesandIpanicked,speakingrapidly,“Butyougavemethe

freewaterandtheringandallthehospitality.Thewateralonewasworthatleastfiveand—”

“TheentirecasecosteightbucksatCostco.”
“Wellthehospitalityisworthatleastfifty.”
Heshookhisheadandsmiled.“Forgetit,Jane.It’sonthehouse.”
ButIdon’twanttoforgetaboutyou,Wes!Menlikeyoudon’ttalktomeunlessthey’vemetmysister

andthey’retryingtogettoherthroughme.Theydon’tcareaboutme,andtheycertainlydon’tever
smileatmelikeyou’resmilingatmerightnow.Myheartwastryingtojumpoutofmychestwith
gratitudeandexcitement.Andhope.Sometimestheimpossiblehappened,right?

Ididn’tknowwhattodo,butIknewIdidn’twantthismomenttoend.Whatevercameafterwouldn’t

liveuptomyforeverfantasy:weddingbells,thealtar,thecheers,weddingcakeintheface,thelaughter,
thelove,andthelimousineridetoanexotichoneymoon,thebeautifulbouncingbabiesthatfollowedsoon
after,andlastbutnotleast,thehappilyeverafterending…

Suddenlysad,Istaredatthefloor.Myglassessliddownmynose.Ipushedthemup.Theyslidback

down.Whatwasthepoint?

“Jane,Idon’tmeantorushyou,butIhaveworktodo.”Hisvoicewasgentle,compassionate,and

completelycomforting.

Iwasgoingtocry.Butnotinfrontofhim.Isniffed,“Oh,right.”
“Doyouneedaridehome?”
“Awhat?”
“Aridehome.”
“Uhhh…”Eventhoughmyweddingfantasywouldnevercometrue,Icouldn’tbelievethatamale

runwaymodellikeWeswasofferingmearide.TherewasnowayIwasturninghimdown,weddingor
nowedding.“Sure,”Ismiledmeekly.

Hepattedmyshoulder.“Okay.I’llhavemydrivertakeyouhome.”Hepulledaphoneoutofhissuit

jacketandfiredoffatext.

“Oh.”
Whycouldn’tWesbetheonetodrive?
Becausethefantasyisalwaysbetterthanreality.
Hewalkedmeoutofthemasterbedroomanddownalonghallway.Patternedcarpetingwithwavy

linesranallthewaytotheend.Aseriesofframedblackandwhiteglamourheadshots,largevintage
movieposters,andabunchofreallyoldmagazinecosmeticsadvertisementsweremountedbetweenart

decosconcesonbothwalls.Thevibewasalmostlikeagoldenagemovietheaterlobby.Aswewalked,I
noticedthesamewomanwasinalltheposters,photos,andads.Hernamewasfeaturedonmost.Helen
Callaway.

“Wes,canIaskyouaquestion?”
“Sure.”
Willyoumarryme?Iclearedmythroat.“WhoisHelenCallaway?”
Hesmiled,“Mygrandmother.Thiswasherhouse.”
“Was?”
Henodded.
“I’msorry.Didshepassrecently?”
Heslowedtoastop,tookadeepbreath,lookedupattheceilingandsighed.Hisjawtickedandhe

closedhiseyes,holdinghisfeelingsin.

Icouldrelate.Iwasalwaysholdingmyfeelingsin.“I’msorry,Wes.Ishouldn’thaveasked.”
“Noworries.Youdidn’tknow.”Hesmileddownatme,hischocolateeyesshimmering.Hewasreally

tall,atleast6’2”.Tome,hewasagiant.Andnotatallanass.

“Wereyouandyourgrandmotherclose?”
“Very.”
“I’mreallysorry.”Itouchedhiswrist.
“Thanks,”hesmiled,hisvoicetight.“Shelivedalongandfulllife.It’llbeayearnextweeksinceher

passing.”

“Oh.I,uh—”
“Weshouldgo.”HeplacedhisbighandagainstthesmallofmybackandInearlyfainted.“Areyou

okay,Jane?”

“Yeah,I’m…”Allchokedup.
“Shallwe?”Hecockedhishead.
Icouldn’tspeak.Ijustnodded.
Heledmedownstairs,hishandstillonmyback.
IthinkIfloatedtheentireway.
Outside,mostofthecarsfromearlierweregone.Tworemained:theoneIthinkwasaBentleyandthe

blueLamborghini.Agoodlookingguywithburlyarms,shortsaltandpepperhair,anddistinguished
wrinklesinalltherightplacesstoodinfrontoftheBentleywithhistanmuscledarmsclaspedinfront.He
woreapinstripedpoloshirtandkhakislacks.

Wessaid,“Gavin,willyoupleasetakethisbeautifulyoungladyhomeforme?”
Beautiful?
Hedidn’tmeanit,butitwasthethoughtthatcounted.
“Certainly,sir,”GavinsaidwithaBritishaccent.HewasmuchsexierthanthebutlerI’dpictured

earlier.GavinhadanMI5lookabouthim,ormaybeSAS,orlikehehadoncebeensecurityfortheQueen
ofEngland.HeopenedthebackdooroftheBentleyforme.“Hopin,luv.We’llgetyouhomerightquick.”
Hewinkedatmeandsmiled.

IalmostswoonedatGavin’sgraciousnessandcharm.Hewasveryeasyontheeyes.Icouldn’thelp

butgiggletomyself.I’dneverbeenwaitedonhandandfootbytwohandsomemenbefore.Notevenone
handsomeman.

ButIwasfarmoreinterestedinWes,whoheldouthishandforafinalshake.“Itwasnicemeetingyou,

Jane.”Despitethathintofdangerhe’ddisplayedearlier,hewasincrediblypolite.

Istaredathishand.Ididn’twanttojustshakeit.Iwantedtojumpinhisarmssohecouldholdme

forever.Ifrowned.Iwasn’tabouttodothat.Instead,Ishookhishandandsavoredthefeelingofmysmall
handenvelopedinhisbigoneforthelasttime.Itriedtoburnthememoryofthismomentintomybrain.

“Nicemeetingyoutoo,Wes.”Iwantedtocryagain.

IwasabsolutelycertainIwouldneverseehimagain.
“Enjoythering,”hewinkedasIclimbedintothecar.
“Oh.Iwill.”Isatdownonthesmoothleatherseat.Icouldn’tresisttheurgetolookupathimonelast

time.Asusual,myglassessliddownmynose.Ireacheduptopushtheminplace,butWesstoppedme
withasmile.

“Wait,”hemuttered.“Don’t.”
“Don’twhat?”
“Iwanttoseeyoureyes.”
“Oh.”
Heleaneddownandgentlyremovedmyglasses.Thishadsuddenlyturnedintoanoverwhelmingly

romanticmoment,eventhoughnothingromanticwasactuallyhappening.

Withoutmyglasseson,hewasonlyahandsomeblur.Icouldtellhewaslookingintomyeyes,butto

mehiswerejustchocolatesmudges.Evenso,myheartstartedpounding.Thelongerhelooked,themore
myentirebodylituplikefireworks.

“Youhavebeautifulgreeneyes,Jane.Likeemeraldswithflecksofgold.They’retrulyradiant.”
Swoon!Hecalledmyeyesradiant.Andbeautiful.Nomanthisattractivehadeverpaidmesucha

pricelesscompliment.Ialmostpassedoutandslidoutoftheleatherseatandontothestonepaverslikea
puddleofswoon.IttookeverythingIhadtostayconsciousanddrinkinthismoment.

“Youshouldwearcontactssopeoplecanseeyoureyes.”HehandedmyglassesbackandItookthem

butdidn’tputthemon.

“IwishIcould,”Icringed,“butIcan’t.Myprescriptionistoostrong.”Mymagicmomentfadedasfast

asithadarrived.Iloweredmyheadandputmyglassesbackonwithasenseofshame.

“Nomatter.I’veseenthemandI’llrememberthemforever.”
Ilookedupintohissmilingeyes.
“Goodbye,Jane.”
“Bye.”
Wesgentlyclosedmydoor.
That’swhenInearlydidfaintdeadaway.Weshadjustsaidthemostromanticthinganymanhadever

saidtome.

Itoowouldrememberthismomentforever…
WhileIswoonedinthebackseat,GavinstartedtheengineandWeswatchedaswedrovedownthe

stonedrive.

MypinkywastinglingandIwasprettysuremynewringwascuttingoffmycirculation.Itwistediton

myfinger,tryingtorelievethepressure.I’dprobablyhavetosoapitoffwhenIgothome.Itreallywas
justanoldpieceofjunk.ButIwouldtreasureitforever.Thisringwasproofthatatleastforamoment,a
gorgeousmanhadflirtedwithmeinhismansion,andhe’ddonehisbesttomakemelaughandfeel
special,allwhiletreatingmewiththeutmostrespect.

Noteveryonecouldbesolucky.
AsGavindrovemehomeintheBentley,ItriedtotellmyselfthememoryofWeswasenough.
Backathome,IspentthreehoursonGoogleMapstryingtoretracemystepsusingstreetview,butI

couldn’tfindtheentrancetoWes’mansion.Icouldn’tfinditscirculardrivewaywithitshugefountainon
satellitevieweither.Nothingturnedup.Itwasalmostasifthereneverhadbeenamansion.Ithad
disappearedfrommylifeassurelyasWeshad.

WhenIgotreadyforbed,theringwasreallyhurtingmyfingerandIdidhavetosoapitoff.Icouldn’t

leaveiton.Ididn’twantmyfingerfallingoff.Ialsohadtosoapoffthegreenringithadleftaroundthe
baseofmypinky.LikeIthought,nothingbutjunk.

ButIclutcheditinmyhandlikeitwaspricelessasIcriedmyselftosleep.
WhileIslept,IdreamtthatIwasinfactmarriedtoWesandwelivedinhisgrandmother’smansion,

whichwasnowcompletelyrestored,lookinglikethedayitwasfirstbuilt.Alltheroomswerebrightand
cleanandfilledwithlight,allthecolorsrichandvibrant.Throughoutthehouse,thelaughteroffriends
andfamilyandchildrenechoedthroughthehallways.Thehousehadtransformedintothemostbeautiful
dreamhomeanyonecouldeverwant.

Toobadeveryoneknewfantasieslikethatnevercametrue.

Chapter9

“Aaaaahhhhhhh!!!!”
Iscreamedmyselfawakethenextmorning,lyingonabedofbrokenglass,writhinginexcruciating

pain.Icepicksstabbedeveryinchofmybody.Pain,pain,pain.Myskinburned.Mybonesached.A
dozenjackhammersslammedintomyskull.Myteethhurt.Mygumsweresore.Myfingernailsand
toenailspulsedwithpain.Myscalpitched.Evenmyhairhurt.Everypartofmybodywasselfdestructing.

WasIdying?
Ididn’tknow,butIcouldn’tmoveamusclewithoutmorepain.
Myagonywassointense,Ipassedoutwithinminutes.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ThenexttimeIwoke,Ihadjustenoughenergytocrawltothebathroomandpee.Halfwaythere,I

thoughtIwasn’tgoingtomakeit.Thefeelingofmykneesandelbowsandstomachscrapingacrossmy
apartmentcarpetwasalmosttoomuchtotolerate,likecrawlingacrossrazorblades.Buttheneedtopee
wastentimesworse.CrawlingontothetoiletwaspossiblythehardestthingI’deverdone,butIdidit.

Worse,peeingburned.Literallyburned.
Imaginesomeonestickingahotpokerupyour—
Yougettheidea.
Whatwashappeningtome?
WhenIfinished,IwhimperedasIcrawledbacktobedandpassedout.
HorrifyingnightmarestormentedmewhileIslept.Mybodywasbeinginvadedbysomeunstoppable

flesheatingbacteriathatwaskillingme.Ortwelvekindsofcancerallatonce.Orparasiticwormseating
mealivefromtheinsideout.Whateveritwas,therewasnoknowncure.Doctorsandsoldierswearing
orangeHaz/Matsuitshoveredoverme,operatingonmybodywhileIwaswideawakeandscreamingin
pain.

Theycouldn’tfigureoutwhatwaswrongwithme.
ButIknewmydeathwasonlyhoursaway.
Iwantedtowakeupfromthisnightmare,butIcouldn’t.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Igaspedawakeintodarkness.
ThefirstthingInoticedwasthatmypainhadsubsided.
Notcompletely.Mybonesstillached,especiallytheonesinmyface.Butmyskinwasn’tburningand

myscalpdidn’titch.Thankgoodnessforthatmuch.

ButIstillfeltawful.
Mythroatwaspaperdry.
Ididn’thavetopeebutIneededwater,soIcrawledoutofbed.Thecarpetnolongerfeltlike

razorbladesonmyskin.Justsandpaper.ThatIcouldtolerateforafewminutes.WhenIslidontothefaux
parquetwoodfloorinthekitchenette,Ihadtoslideacrossonmybellybecauseithurtmykneesand

elbowstoomuchtoputanyweightonthem.

Imanagedtopropmyselfupinfrontofthesinkandfillaglasswithtapwater.
Iguzzleditdown.
DirtyLAtapwaterhadnevertastedsoincrediblygood.
Idranktwomoreglassesbeforecrawlingbacktobed.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ItwaslightoutwhenIwokeagain.
Mybladderwasreadytoexplode.
Istumbledintomybathroomjustintime.
After,Idrankmorewaterbeforefallingbackintobed.
That’swhenIrealizedIheardarhythmicbangingagainstmybedroomwall.TheonethatIsharedwith

mynewneighborBlaze,thegorgeousjerkwho’ddismissedmethedayhe’dgougedupmydoor.

Bang,bang,bang.
Shrillfemininemoansdriftedthroughthewall.
Gruntingmasculineonesfollowed.
Hewashavingsexanditsoundedlikehewasgoingtobreakthebed.
Nosurprisewithaguylikehim.
Ihopedhebrokethefloortoo,andhisbedfellthroughtheceiling.Ijusthopednobodywashome

downstairswhenithappened.ItriedtopicturePetrak’sfacewhenhesawthemess.Thebillwouldbein
thethousandsandBlazewouldhavetopayforit.Serveshimright.Withanyluck,Petrakwouldevicthim
andI’dneverhavetoseehistoohandsomefaceagain.

“Uh!Uh!Uh!”
Bang.Bang.Bang.
Hesuregavenewmeaningtothetermbanging.
ItriednottopictureBlaze’sheadhangingoverme,hisunrulyhairswayingwitheachthrust,hisblue

eyesonfireashestaredintomineandfilledmetothehilt.

“Yes!Yes!Yes!”
Bang!Bang!Bang!
Isneeredattheimageofwhateverbimbohewasboning.Itriedtoshout,“Stopit!”Butmywords

cameoutinathinwhisperycroak.

IfIwasn’tstillhalf-deadfromwhateverdiseaseIhad,Iwould’vekickedthewallrepeatedlyuntil

theystopped.

ButIwastootiredtodoanything.
BANG!BANG!BANG!
AscowlstretchedpainfullyacrossmyfaceasIdriftedofftosleep.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Theringingofmyphonewokeme.
Myheadachehadfadedtoamanageabledullthud,butthesoundofthephonewaskillingme.IfIcould

reachit,Iwouldthrowitoutmybedroomwindow.

Finally,itstoppedringing.
IslowlyrealizedIwasbakinginmybedfromtheheat.Thesheetsweresoaked.Ikickedmycovers

off,welcomingthecoolair.Ittookonlyafewminutestorealizemyapartmentwasstillanoven.

Myeyeshalfshut,Istoodupandslidopenmybedroomwindow.Ialmostpunchedaholeintheglass

becausetheframewaslowerthanIremembered.Ididn’tspendanytimethinkingaboutit.Ipressedmy
faceagainstthescreenandfeltaslightbreeze.Notgoodenough.Iturnedonthefaninfrontofthewindow
andcoolairblewacrossmysweatyface.

Relief.
Partially.
Ireallyneededtopeeagain.Istumbledoutofmybedroom,makingabeelinetowardmybathroom.On

mywaythere,IheardBlaze’sfrontdoorslamshut.ItstartledmesomuchIspunaroundandsawawoman
struttingpastmylivingroomwindow.ProbablytheoneI’dheardhimbanging.Itwashardtoseedetails
becauseofmysheercurtains,butIcouldseeenough.Shewastall,impossiblythin.Everythingshewore
wastight.Herboobsfloatedonherchestliketheywerefilledwithhelium.Yeah,thosearereal.Thehuge
pileofplatinumblondehairspillingdownherbacklookedlikefakeextensionsshe’dboughtattheBarbie
factory.

ShespunandheadedbacktoBlaze’sdoorandpoundedonit,screaming,“IsBrennaoneofyour

clients?Ordoyoufuckherforfree?”

Clients?Free?
WasBlazeamaleprostitute?
Hewascertainlyattractiveenough.
Whateverhewas,hewasaprinceamongmen.Hahaha.
Theblondescreamedagain,“Answerme,asshole!WhoisBrenna?!”
IwaitedforthesoundofBlaze’sfrontdoorrippingopen,followedbythesoundofhimgroveling.As

bimboswent,thisoneappearedtobeatthehigherendofthescale.Iimaginedthemenwholikedplastic
womenwouldwanttoholdontothisone.ButBlazeneveropenedhisdoor.Theleastyouwouldexpect
fromamuscularmanwhorelikeBlazewasthathewouldbemanenoughtotakeatonguelashingfromthe
womenhekickedtothecurbthemorningafterbangingthem.Apparentlynot.

Ohwell.Notmydrama.
Shepoundedseveralmoretimes.“Oooh!!!Youareaworthlesspieceofshit!IhopeBrennagivesyou

AIDSandyourdickfallsoff!”Asecondlater,shebreezedpastmywindow,herheelspistolingoffthe
balconywalkway.Wow,shewasreallyangry.Icouldn’timaginewhy.

Sarcasm.
Iwaitedpatiently,hopingBlazewouldfinallycomeoutofhidingandgochasingafterher.Ilikedthe

ideaofhearinghimbeg.Iwasinthemoodforagoodlaughathisexpense.

PlasticBlonde’sclickingheelsfadedintosilence.
NosignofBlazeeither.
Thatwasasurprise.Iwassurehe’dgrovel.
Ismirkedtomyself,Whatanassbrain.
AfterIpeed,Idugmyphoneoutfrombehindmynightstand.Imust’veknockeditoffthechargerlast

night.Ilookedatthescreen.

42missedcalls.
9voicemailmessages.
Tonsoftexts.
Whatthehell?
HowlonghadIbeenasleep?
Ilookedatthedateonmyphone.
Friday.
ItwasFriday?
Theentireworldturnedupsidedown.

ThelastthingIrememberedwas…Idrewablank.Mymemorywasfoggy.Whathadhappenedlast?
Wes.
IhadbeenathishouseonSunday.
Sunday.
Icountedthedaysoffonmyfingers.
Five.
Fivedays.
HadIjustsleptfivedays?
No.Thatwasimpossible.Ishookmyheadandlookedatmyphoneagain.Friday.WasIlosingmy

mind?HowcouldIhavesleptfivedaysstraight?

Ihadn’tbeenthatsick,hadI?
OrhadWesdruggedme?Orpoisonedme?
Hadthatwaterbottlehe’dgivenmebeenlacedwithsomething?No,thatwascrazy.I’dtakenitfrom

thepackmyself.He’dsaiditwasfromCostco.Hecouldn’thavedruggedeachone.Thatwasjust
ridiculous.WhataboutGavin,hisdriver?Hadhedruggedme?No,Gavinhaddroppedmeoffoutsidemy
apartmentbuildingandhaddrivenoffbeforeI’dwalkedthroughthefrontgate.Hehadnoideawhich
apartmentIlivedin.Itwasn’tlikemynamewasonthedoor.AndIknewPetrakwouldn’thavetoldGavin
ifhe’dcomebacklaterandasked.ButGavindidhavethatMI5look.Hadhespiedonmeanddruggedme
inmysleepwithapoisonblowdart?No,thatwascrazy.

Sowhathadhappened?
Iscrolledthroughmylistofmissedcalls.
Chelsea.
Work.Ohshit.
GeorgeSweet.
Myparents.
Workagain.
Andagain.
Andagain.
IwassupposedtoworkMondaynight.AndTuesday.AndWednesday.AndThursday.
HadIjustmissedthelastfourdaysofworkwithoutcheckingin?IfIhad,Iwasprobablyoutofajob!
PanicseizedmeasIlistenedthroughmymessages.
Chelseacheckingin.
GeorgeonMondayafternoonapologizingfornothangingoutandaskingifIwantedtohangoutlaterin

theweek.

MariafromworkaskingwhereIwasonMonday.FrickingMonday.
MariaagainonTuesday.
DougWallace,thegeneralmanagerfromworkandmydirectbossaskingifIwasokayandtoplease

call.

ChelseaonWednesdaywonderingwhyIhadn’tcalledherback.
DougagainonWednesdaytellingmethatRickMartinezfromtheVenicestorewasnowcoveringmy

shiftsbuthereallyneededmetocallandlethimknowwhatwasgoingon.

OnThursday,StacyLewis,theheadofHRatthe95CentStorecorporateoffices,warningmethatifI

didn’tcallorshowupinthenextdayortwo,theywouldassumeI’dquitpermanentlyandreplaceme.

Shit!
Stacyagaintoday,abouttwohoursago,informingmethatIhadbeenterminatedandIcouldpickupmy

finalcheckfromthestoreatmyconvenience.

Tripleshit!

Ineededmyjob!
Icalledcorporate,myhandsshakingasIpunchedinthenumber.
Themachineanswered,“Youhavereachedthemainofficesofthe95CentStoreIncorporatedafterour

regularbusinesshours.Ifyouknowyourparty’sextension,pleasedialitnow.Foradirectoryof—”

IpunchedStacy’snameinandgothervoicemail.
“Stacy!It’sJaneJohnson.I’vebeenreallysick.IhadareallybadfluandIcouldn’tgetoutofbedfor

fivedays.I’msosorryInevercalled.Iwasliterallyunconscious.Idon’tknowwhathappened,butIslept
allweek.”Ilaughedonce.“Iknowitsoundsimpossible,butthat’swhathappened.Pleasecallmeassoon
asyougetthismessage.”

Iendedthecall.
Iwasprettysureshewouldn’tgetthemessageuntilMonday.Ididn’thaveherpersonalnumber.SoI

calledmystore.Dougmightstillbethere.Ineededtoexplain.Heknewme.He’dunderstand.

Thephonerangandrang.Fridayswerealwaysbusy.Dougcouldbeononeoftheregistershelpingout,

oroutonthefloorhelpingstocktheshelves.Nobodyanswered.

Mybodyjitteredfromallthestressinducedadrenalin.
Ineededtodosomething.
Icouldn’tlosemyjob.IfIdid,Iwouldn’tbeabletopayrentnextmonth!Crap!Timetojumpinthe

showerandgetdressedandhurrydowntomystoreandbegDougformyjobback.

WhenIranintothebathroomandsawmyselfinthemirror,Inearlyhadaheartattack.

Chapter10

Ihadjustgoneinsane.
Orhadastroke.
OrmaybeIwasstillasleep.
Whateveritwas,therewasnorationalexplanationforwhatIsawinthemirror.
Someoneelse.
Notpudgylittlemewithbadhair.
SomesupermodelIdidn’trecognize.
Iblinkedseveraltimes.
ButIstillsawthesupermodel.
Iwashallucinating.
IsqueezedmyeyesshutandrubbedthemuntilIsawstars.ThenIopenedthem.
Stillseeingasupermodel.
Longflowingblondehair,abitmessyandbedish,butitwassilkyandshinygoldandlookedgood

enoughforaphotoonaboxofhairdye.

Afinelyshapedfacewithhighcheekbones,trimnose,widefullmouthandlushlips.Herlasheswere

naturallythick.Whenshesmiled,shehadperfectlystraightwhiteteeth.

Thesupermodelwastallerthanmyfivefootnothing.IfIhadtoguess,I’dsayshewasalmost5’9”

withlongandslenderarmsandlegsandanhourglassfigure.

Thenithitme.Iwaslookingthroughawindowatanotherperson.Itwastheonlythingthatmade

sense.

SoIstuckmyheadslowlyoutmybathroomdoortoseeiftheblondesupermodelwasstandingonthe

othersideofthewall,lookingatmethroughawindow.SuperBlondematchedmymovementsexactly
and,surprisesurprise,shewasn’tstandingbehindthewallinmyhallway.

Nobodywas.
Backinfrontofthemirror,IscratchedmyheadforamomentandSuperBlondedidtoo.
Wait.
Wait,wait,wait.
Duh.
Iwasn’twearingmyglasses.Iwasjustimaginingallthis.Thebraincanbelikethat.Wishfulthinking

andthatsortofthing.Probablyleftoverhallucinationfrommycrazyfivedayflu.

IwalkedintomybedroomandfoundmyglassesonthenightstandwhereIalwaysleftthembeforebed.

Iputthemon.

Whoa!
Icouldn’tsee!
Myglassesreallyhurtmyeyes.
Iyankedthemoffandlookedatthem.Werethesemyglasses?Theyseemedlikeit.Wasitanoldpair?

Maybethatwasit.Iputthemonagain.Myentirebedroomsquiggledandvibratedandhadthismagnified
qualitythatmademenauseous.Itookthemoffandsearchedthroughmydeskforadifferentpair.Putthose
on.Samething.Theyhurtmyeyestoo.Iwentbackinthebathroomwithmyglassesandputthemonin
frontofthemirror.Sameresult.Theyhurtmyeyesandblurredeverything,soIsetthemonthecounter.

HadsomeonegivenmeLASIKwhileIwasasleep?

I’dthinkaboutthatlaterbecauseonethingremainedthesame,whetherIhadmyglassesonoroff.
Iwastheblondesupermodelinthemirror.
Itwasn’tmyeyes.Ithadtobesomethingelse.
ThenIfigureditout.
Ofcourse.
Someone,maybeGavin,hadreplacedmybathroommirrorwithsomesuperhigh-tech4Kmoviescreen

whileIwasasleep,andinstalledhiddencamerasinmybathroom.Thecameraswerefilmingmesothe
actressplayingSuperBlondecouldcopymymovements,andhermovementswerebeingprojectedonmy
new4Kbathroommoviescreen.Shewasbeingfilmedatasecretsoundstageonasetthatlookedexactly
likemybathroom,whichGavinhadtakenpicturesof.TheactressevenworethesameMyLittlePonyT-
shirtIsleptin,theonewithTwilightSparkle,theoneI’dboughtattheBayAreaBronySpectacular
conventionwithGeorge.Onmetheshirthadalwaysbeenaloosefitacrossmychestandatightfitacross
mywaist.Onthesupermodel,itwastheopposite.Bigboobsstretcheditoutandithungloosearoundher
trimwaist.

Wasthissomecrueljoke?
HadIbeenPunk’dbymyenemies?WeretheymockingmewithanimageofthewomanIwishedI

lookedlike?Theoneeverywomanwishedshelookedlike?

Thatwasabsurd.
Ididn’thaveanyenemies,exceptmaybemynewneighborBlaze,buthestruckmeastoolazyand

disinterestedtobother.TheonlypeopleIknewwhohadtheresourcestopulloffsuchanelaborateprank
wereGavinandWes.Buttheywouldn’tdothat.Theywerebothsoniceandtheybarelyknewmeanyway.
Whywouldtheybother?

Irestedmypalmsonthecountertop.ItwaslowerthanIwasusedto.Ireacheduptotouchthemirror.
SuperBlonde’shandmetthemirrorattheexactsamemomentminedid.Theglasswascooltothe

touch.Itlookedlikearegularmirrortome.

AndInoticedthatmyhandwastheexactsizeandshapeasSuperBlonde’shandinthemirror.
Mychestflutteredwithastrangeexcitement.
Ilookeddownatmyhands.
Theyweren’tmyhands.
Myarmsweren’tmyarms.
Thewerethinandbeautiful.Elegant.TheylookedsortoflikeChelsea’shands.OrMom’shands.
Islidmypalmsdownmychest.
Ihadboobs!
Bigboobs!
ItoremyT-shirtovermyheadandlookedatmyself.
Isqueezedmybreasts.Theyweren’ttheboobsIwasusedto.Theyweresofullandpert,buttheyfelt

liketheyweremine.

Whathadhappenedtome?
Iranmyhandsdownmyflatstomachandovermyarchedhips.
Mywaistwasnownarrowandcurvy.
Iturnedtoseemybuttinthemirror.Mybaggygrannypantieslookedawful.IkickedthemoffsoI

couldcheckoutmyass.Itwas…perfect.Nocellulite.Nothing.

Iwasgoingtofaint.
Iwasgoingtocry.
Iwasbeautiful.
Undeniablycertifiablybeautiful.
Withtheexceptionofmyemeraldgold-fleckedeyes,whichweremostdefinitelytheeyesI’dbeen

bornwith,Ilookednothinglikeme.Well,maybeabeautifulblondeversionofmyselfwhomayhave
vaguelyresembledChelseaorMom.

Butbetterlooking.
WhenIwasalittlegirl,myfavoritestoryforthelongesttimewasTheUglyDuckling.I’dalways

imaginedonedayI’dgrowintoabeautifulswan.ButI’drealizedsometimearoundjuniorhighschool
thatI’dalwaysbenothingbutanuglyduck.

Butnow?
NowIwasfinallythemostbeautifulswanofall.
TearsofjoydribbleddownmyfacewhileIthoughtthisover.Itouchedandsqueezedeverypartofmy

bodyfortwentyminutesbeforeIconvincedmyselfIreallyhadtransformed.Evenmytoeswerepretty.

Ihadswansformed.
Ispentanotherhourpacingmyapartmentonlonglegsthattooksomegettingusedto.Thewholetime,I

wastryingtoconvincemyselfthiswasalljustadream.

Butitwasn’t.
Andifitreallywasn’tsomehallucinatoryfeverdream,adreamcausedbyafeversohighitwas

probablycausingpermanentdamagetomybrain,howonearthwouldIexplainallthistomyfamily?

OrmybossDougatwork?
Ortoanyone?
Istoppedpacingandtriedtopictureit.Mecallingeveryoneandlaughingcrazily,“Ifinallyturnedinto

aswan!”

TheywouldallthinkIwasinsane.
Iwouldjusthavetoshowthem.
Inperson.
ThenIpicturedanabsolutestrangergoinguptoMomorDadandsayingcrazily,Hey,Mom!Hey,Dad!

It’sme,yourdaughter!Iknow,Idon’tlookanythinglikeher,butyouhavetobelieveme!I’mnot
insane,IreallyamJane!Andno,Ididn’tkidnapherorkillher.It’sme,Dad!Me!Theywouldwantto
knowwhattheinsanewoman(me)haddonetotheirbeloveddaughter.Withmyluck,I’dendupinprison
formurderingmyself,JaneJohnson.

ButIdesperatelywantedtocalleveryoneIcouldthinkofandtellthemtheamazingnews!
Ihadtransformedintoadifferentperson!
Abeautifulperson!
Ishookmyhead.Justthinkingthewordssoundedridiculous.
Icouldn’tcallanybody.
Iwasprobablystillasleepanddreaming.
Onceagain,Ipinchedmyself.Ouch!Isplashedwaterinmyfaceoverthebathroomsink.Itwascold

andwet.ButIwasstillasupermodel.IjumpedintotheshowertoseeifIcouldwashitoff.

Nope.Stillbeautiful.
WhenIgotoutoftheshower,twothingswereonmymind.
One,whatwasIgoingtodoaboutmyjob?
Two,ifIstayedlikethis,whatwasIgoingtodoingeneral?
Ididn’tknowtheanswertoeither,butIknewmylifewasabouttochange.
Drastically.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Beforethathappened,Ineededtogoshopping.

Noneofmyclothesfitmynewbody.I’dgrownalmostnineinchesinamatteroffivedays.
Asimpossibleasthisallseemed,Iwasstartingtoacceptitwasactuallyhappening.Ifeltwideawake.

Infact,Ifeltbetterthanever.Iwasliterallyanewperson.

IendedupputtingonadressbecauseallmysweatsandjeansnowlookedlikeCapripantsonmylong

legs.TheonlybraIhadthatfitmynewboobswasasportsbra.Andmyshoeswerealltoosmall,soIhad
towearflip-flops.Myheelshungoffthebacks,buttheywouldworkfornow.

WhenIgotinmycar,Ihadtodecidebetweengoingtoworkorgoingforclothes.IfIwenttowork,

wouldanyonebelieveIwasme?No.I’dprobablygettruckedofftoamentalhospital.

Clothesitis.
SinceIdidn’thavemuchmoneytospare,IwenttotheGoodwillstoreinSantaMonica.Iknew

Chelseawasrightaboutit.Theygotallthecastoffclothesfromtherichwomenintheneighborhoodwho
wentthroughnewclotheslikecandy,buttheysoldeverythingatregularlowGoodwillprices.Itdidn’t
takemelongtofindsomeoutfitsthatlookedcuteonmebecauseeverythingthatfitlookedcute.Tobe
honest,IwasmarvelingathowamazingIlookedeverytimeIcaughtaglimpseofmyselfinamirror.No
wonderbeautifulpeopleweresoobsessedwiththemselves.Theywereinaweeverytimetheysawtheir
reflections.

Ihadtolaughatmyself.
Iwouldneverbelikethat.
Whileholdingupdifferenttopsinthenearestmirror,Inoticedtwoteenagedgirls,maybe15or16,

riflingthroughtherackstomyleft.Theywerewatchingmecloselywhilewhisperingandgiggling.

Itriedtoignorethem.
“Lookslikethewalkofshametome,”thefirstgirlsaidjustloudenoughformetohear.“Herdressis

onbackwards.”

Mydresswasn’tonbackwards.Whatweretheytalkingabout?
Theotheronesaid,“No,she’sprobablyhomeless.Lookatthosedirtyflip-flops.Theydon’tevenfit.

Sheprobablyfoundtheminadumpster.”

Ifrownedinthemirror.Mynewfrownwasmuchprettierthanmyoldfrown.Itriedtoignorethegirls

andheldupanothertop.

“Ibetshe’sacokewhore.Fucksrandomguysfordrugs.”
“No,heroin.Andmeth.Totalskank.”
“Ibetshe’llbetoothlesswithinayearfromshootingup.”
“Thenshecanchargemoreforblowjobs.”
Theybothlaughedlikehyenasandleanedintoeachother.
Disgusting.
Isizedthemupinasecond.
Theywerecheapcopiesofthemeangirlswho’dtormentedmeinhighschool.Iglaredatthem.I

wasn’tafraidoftwoprettylittlebitches.Asakid,I’dgrownathickskinearlyon.Beingthenumberone
nerdgirlmeantconstantinsults.Atfirst,peoplemadefunofmeallthetime,butonlyuntiltheyrealizedI
couldcutthemupworsethentheyevercouldme.BythetimeIwasasophomoreatNorthValleyHigh
School,theinsultshadstopped.Thankfully,collegeandadulthoodweren’tlikehighschoolandIhadn’t
beentreatedthisbadlyinyears.

ButlisteningtothesetwogirlscutmeupnowstunglikeIwas13alloveragain.Oldwounds.
Theyhungtheirclothesupontherackandwalkedpastmeontheirwaytotheshoesection.
Astheypassed,onemuttered,“Dirtyslut.”
Theothersaid,“Moldyhobag."
Teenagers.Sofullofinsecurityandhate.Theonlylawtheyunderstoodwasthelawofthejungle,or

TheLordoftheFlies,orHungerGames,orwhateveritwas.Standingtallwithmyhandsonmyhips,I

said,“WhenyoutwonarcissisticimbecilesdropoutofSantaMonicaCollegebecauseit’stoohard,and
youcan’tfindjobsbecauseyoudon’thaveasinglebraincellbetweenthetwoofyou,you’regoingto
realizethatallofDaddy’smoneyandalltheplasticsurgeryintheworldisn’tgoingtomakeanybodyhate
youless.Soshutyourfuckingmouthsandkeeptheinsultstoyourselves,youuglylittletwits.”They
weren’tuglyontheoutside.TheywerebetterlookingthanIwas.Buttheyweremonstersontheinside.

Theybothstaredatmewideeyed,frozenwithfear.
Oneofthemstartedtotearup.
Iscowled,“Aww,isdawittlebabybutthurt?”
Theothergirlsnarledatme,“Justbecauseyou’rebetterlookingthanusdoesn’tmeanyou’renota

stupidbitch.Let’sgo,Emily.”Shepulledherfriendbythearm.

Emily’seyeswereredandshesnuffledatme,“Bitch.”
Ismirked.“I’mthebitch?”
Iwatchedthemwalkingaway.
Thesecondtheyturnedintotheshoeaisle,Emilystartedsobbing.
Whatwasherproblem?Theystartedit.
Ishookmyheadandturnedbacktothemirrorandlookedatmyself.Slowly,therealizationthatI

wasn’tafivefootnothingnerdgirlwiththickglassessunkin.Ilookedlikeasupermodelwhowasbetter
lookingthanbothofthemcombined.Therewasnomistakingit.But,nomatterwhatIlookedlikeonthe
outsidenow,I’dbeenalittlenerdgirlfor99.9%ofmylife.Onedayofbeingbeautifuldidn’teraseall
that.Andpardonmeifmynewrealitywasaweebithardtobelieve.

Icouldbarelywrapmyownheadaroundtheidea.
Emily’sfriendwasbusyconsolingherwhileglaringatme.
WasitpossibletheystartedmakingfunofmebecausetheyassumedI’dbeenbornwiththelooksthey

couldonlydreamof?Ofcoursetheydid.Nooneonthisplanetwouldbelieveotherwise.

Wow,justwow.
AlthoughIstillsuspectedthiswasalladreamandIwasprobablystillinmybed,sickwiththeplague

andhallucinatingwhileteeteringontheedgeofdeath,Ididn’tneedtobeabitch.Eveninmyfever
dreams.Beingmeanfornoreasonwasnotme.

Nomatterwhatthecircumstances.

Chapter11

Anhourlater,IwalkedoutofGoodwillwithfivenewoutfitsandtwopairsofshoesthatcostmea

totalof$85.00.YouhadtoloveGoodwill.

IworemyfavoritecombothatI’djustpurchased:astripedtanktop,artfullyshreddedskinnyjeans,a

necklaceofflowerpendants,andwhitesandals.Nothingfashionblogworthybecausetobehonest,I
didn’treallyhavetheknackfordressingthatChelseaandMomhad.I’dneverbotheredtolearn.

ButIwashappywithmyhaul.
Onmydrivehome,Iremindedmyselftobemoreconsiderateofotherpeople’sfeelings.Evenifthis

wasadream,animpossiblyrealisticHDdreamwithsightandsoundandsmellandtheheatcomingoff
mysteeringwheel(ithadbeenbakingunderthesunintheparkinglot),Ididn’teverwanttotreatother
peoplethewayI’dbeentreated.

Ifnoneofthiswasadream,andI’dactuallyturnedbeautifulinamatteroffivedays,thenIreally

neededtobenicetopeople.Probablynicerandmoreconsideratethanusual.

Lostinthought,Ithumbedtheringonmyfinger.
TheoneIgotfromWes.
Whichwasnowonmyringfinger.
Ididn’trememberputtingiton.Irememberedfallingasleepclutchingitinmyhand.Ithadn’tfitmy

ringfingerbefore.Ithadbarelyfitonmystubbylittlefinger.ButnowIhadlongslenderfingerssoitfit
myringfingerfine.

Itmadeperfectsense.
Itmadenosenseatall.
WhenIstoppedataredlightonSantaMonicaBoulevard,Ilookedattheringindirectsunlight.Itwas

nowshinygold,nottarnishedbrassorwhateverithadbeenbefore.Thecircleoftheringwasalsothicker
andhadaweighttoit.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dsayithadturnedintorealgold.Ithadthatauthentic
yellowcolorthatyoucouldn’tfake.Ifitwasrealgold,itcouldeasilybeworththousandsofdollars.The
obviousconclusion:thiswasadifferentring.ButIdidn’townanygoldrings.Andthisonehadthesame
twoheartsengravedonthetopthatIremembered,exceptnowtheengravingwasmuchnicer,more
complex,moredimensionalandartful,likeapieceofcustomjewelry.

Backatmyapartment,Ijingledmykeysintothelockandopenedmyfrontdoor.AsIwasabouttostep

inside,Blaze’sdoorwhippedopen.AsIsteppedthroughmine,hesteppedoutofhis.

Iwatchedfrommyopendoorwayashepassed.
Heflickedaglanceatme.Asuddengruntescapedhislipsashestumbledtoastopandstaredatme.

HewasjustashandsomeasthefirsttimeI’dseenhim(underwearmodelhot)andjustasunattainable.
Unlikelasttime,heworeatightfittingV-neckshirtthatdidnothingtohidehismusclesandtattoos.

Westaredateachotherforalongtime.
Hiseyesblazedpureblue,likemilliondollarsapphires.
MybodyrespondedandItriednottosquirm.
Hiseyessweptoverme,brightwithdesire.
Nomanhadeverlookedatmethisway.
NotevenmytwoexesAaronandHarvey,andI’dhadsexwithbothofthem.
No.Man.Ever.
Blazelooked…hungry.Andhuntready.Hedrawled,“Heeeeeeey.What’syourname?”

Wasthisreallyhappening?Hestuffedhisfingersinthepocketsofhistightjeansandleanedagainstmy

doorframe.Iguessitwas.

“Chelsea.”Iblurteditoutwithoutthinking.Wasthatabadidea?
“Hey,Chelsea.”
Toolatetoworryaboutitnow.Istillheldmydoorknobandtriednottostareathisbulgingmuscled

arms.“Didyouhaveaname?”

WhywasIasking?Probablyoutofhabit.Ididn’treallywanttoknowthisguy.
DidI?
“Brodie.”HissmilecurledintothesamesexydimplesIremembered.
“Hey,Brodie.”Ihadtowonder,diditmakeBrodieadouchethathehadignoredmewhenIwasa

littlenerdgirlandwasdroolingovermenow?Iwasn’tentirelysure.Whateverthecase,Ihadnoidea
whattosay.

“Youjustmovein?”
“Nope.Er,sortof.”
“Idon’trememberseeingyouherebefore.Justsomeshortgirlwithglasses.Youherroommate?”
“Uh,yeah.”Despitetheunrealityofmyrecentswansformation,Iwastryingtofunctionlikeitwas

reallyreal.AndifInowlookedlikesomeoneelse,IneededtobecarefulaboutwhatIsaidtowho.The
lessthebetter.Istaredathim.“Anythingelse?”

Heranhishandthroughhischarcoaldarkhair.Hismuscledarmflexedandheblushed.Itwashardto

tellwithhistan,buthewasblushing.

Becauseofme.
Willwondersnevercease?
Ismirked,“Myroommatetoldmewhatyoudidtoourdoor.”
“Right.That.”Hesmiledanddroppedhisarm.Hewasnervous.Thishotstudwasnervous.Again,

becauseofme.

Morewondermentonmypart.Aslygrincurledacrossmylips.Icouldgetusedtothis.
“What?”Hechuckled,metmyeyeswithhis,lookedawaywhilegrinningtohimself.Eventually,he

lookedatmydoorcarefully.“Icanprobablypatchandpaintitthisweekend.ButI’llneedtotakeacolor
sampledowntoHomeDepottomatchit.”Heranhisfingertipsacrossthescuffedblackgouge.“Yeah,I
canpatchthis.I’llhaveitfinishedSunday.Thatworkforyou?”

Icouldn’tbelievemyears.Wasthiswhatlifewaslikeforbeautifulwomen?Beautifulmenofferingto

dropeverythinganddostuffforyouwithoutyouasking?Isupposeditwas.EveryfairytaleprincessI’d
everreadabouthadSirLancelotsgaloreslayingdragonsforthemorfightingwarsoverthemsincethe
beginningoftime.Itwashowtheworldworked.

Howtorespond?DidItellhimnottofixmydoorwhichhebroke?Ofcoursenot.
“Sure,Blaze.Sundayisfine.”Ismiledabsently.Icouldn’tstopstaringathisperfecteyesandhis

perfecteverythingelse.

“Brodie.”
“Sorry.ImeantBrodie.”Wow,Iwasalreadyactinglikeadumbblondeafterhalfaday.
“Who’sBlaze?”
“Oh,it’sstupid.”Igiggled.Ishouldn’tgiggle,butIcouldn’thelpmyself.“SinceIdidn’tknowyour

nameuntilnow,IwascallingyouBlazeinmyheadsincewemet.”

Henarrowedhiseyes,confused.“Wejustmetnow.I’veneverseenyoubefore.Iwould’ve

rememberedyou.Believeme,”hechuckled.“You’reunforgettable.”

MyangersuddenlyflaredandIalmostbarked,What,didyouforgetJanealready?Youneverasked

herhername,youshallowshithead!Sowhydoyouneedtoknowminenow,youpencilprick!Letme
guess,isitbecauseyoualreadyforgotaboutthatplasticblondeyoufuckedlastnightandkickedtothe

curbthismorning?Iglaredpurehatredathim.Areyousoshallowthatyourdatingstrategyistojust
fuckwhicheverblondeisclosest?AndIhappentobestandinghere?Ihatedthisguyfromheadtotoe.I
triedtohidemyscowl,butitwasn’tworking.

“Youokay?”Hedidn’tknowwhyIwasangry.
Ididn’twanttostirupabunchofdrama,soItookadeepbreathandcalmedmyself.“Whatwerewe

talkingabout?”

“Youweretellingmehowyouknewmebeforeweevermet.”
MychesttightenedasIrememberedIwaspretendingtobesomeoneelse.Mypreferencewastoavoid

complicatingthingsmorethannecessary.Keepitsimple,stupid.Ifakedalaugh,“Oh,right.Imeantmy
roommateJanewascallingyouBlazebecauseshedidn’tknowyourname.Shetoldmeallaboutyouand
your…chair.”Andyourplasticgirlfriendwhoyoutreatedliketrash.

Hechuckled.“Guilty.Iwaskindofadickthatday.”Yeahyouwere.“Hadashittontogetdone.Tell

JaneI’msorrywhenyouseeher.”

Ialmostblurted,Youtellher!Shewastheonewhohadherfeelingshurtbyyourrudeass!ThenI

realizedhehadjustapologized.AndIdidn’tneedtobeacrazybitchbecausehislovelifewasnoneof
mybusiness.TheonlythingIcouldn’tdecidewaswhetherhewasapologizingbecausehecaredor
becausehewantedsupermodelmetolikehim.Before,he’dactedliketherealmewasn’tworthasecond
ofhistime.Nowhewashangingallovermydooranditdisgustedme.Istartedtocloseitinhisface.
“I’vegottogo,Bluh—Brodie.”Mypreferenceatthatmomentwastoneverseethismanwhoreagain.

“Holdup,”hesmirked,leaninghisweightagainstthedoorsoIcouldn’tcloseit.“Whatareyoudoing

tonight?”

Washeserious?Icouldn’tbelievethisguy.Ismirked,“Ihavetowork.”
“Untilwhen?”Hiseyestraveledupanddownmybody.
“Untillate.”WasIturnedon?OfcourseIwas.IscowledatmyselfforbeingasshallowasBrodie

was.Tobefair,onascalefromonetoten,Brodiewasaperfectten.Despitehavingprinciples,Iwas
stillawomanandhewasallman.Andtherewassuchathingashatesex,althoughI’dneverhadany.
SomehowIimaginedhatesexwastheonlykindBrodieeverhad.

“What’reyoudoingafterwork?”
“Sleeping.”Icouldn’tbelieveBrodiewaspracticallybeggingformetohangoutwithhim.Itriednot

togloatbecausemyanswerwouldalwaysbeno.

“Yousleepingalone?”
Irolledmyeyesathim.“Yes.Andyou?”
“HowaboutIkeepyourbedwarmtillyougethome,andwhenyoudo,weskipthesleeping?”
Irolledmyentireheadtheatrically.“Youdidnotjustsaythat.”
“IthinkIdid.”
“Ithinkyouneedtogetlaid,Brodie.Andnotbyme.”Iwantedtosaysomethingabouthisplastic

blondegirlfriend,butIreallyjustwantedtobedonewithhim.“NowletgoofmydoorsoIcancloseit.”

Hetookastepback.“Suityourself.Butyoudon’tknowwhatyou’remissing.”Hestillhadahandin

hisfrontpocketandheshifteditaroundsuggestively,repositioninghimself.

AgainstmywillIglanceddown.Onlyforasecond.
Geez,washehard?
Hewashard.
Thatbulgingbulgeofhishadturnedintoafull-fledgeddenim-claderection.Iwasnotatallsurprised

thatastudlikeBrodiehadnoshame.Hewastooproudandcockyforshame.

Myfaceturnedred.NotbecauseIwasblushing.BecauseIwasfurious.“Isthisyourplay,Brodie?

Showyourdickofftowhicheverwomanticklesyourfancyandhopeshedidn’thearyoubangingsome
otherbimbothroughthewallstheothernight?”

“Youheardthat?”Hisfacesquirmedintoaconfusedsmilethatwasabsolutelyadorable.HadIturned

thetablesandthrownBrodiecompletelyoffhisgame?Itwassweet.Somewhereinsidethatcockybad
boywasadecenthumanbeing.OrsoItoldmyself.Wishfulthinking?Toosoontotell.

“Yeah,Iheard.Ialsoheardhershoutingatyouthismorningoutsidemylivingroomwindow.Wasshe

madbecauseyourefusedtopayherforservicesrendered?”Iimmediatelyregrettedsayingit.Ididn’t
knowthefirstthingabouther.

“Easy,Chelz.She’snotahooker.”
“Don’tcallmeChelz.”
“Whynot?”
“BecausemynameisChel-see.NotChelz.”WhatwasIdoing?BesidesgettingangryatBrodie,who

wasn’tworthmytime.Whateveritwas,himcallingmeChelzwasjusttooweird.Italsomademethink
thatifheevermetmysister,he’dshamelesslyhitonhertoo.ThelastthingIwantedwasthisasshead
datingmysister.Notthatshewoulddatehim,butstill.

“Okay.I’llcallyouC.C.”
“C.C.?”
“Chel-see.C.C.?”
Ishookmyhead.“Don’tlikeit.”Ialsodidn’tlikeBrodienicknamingme.
“Fine.Chelsea.Anyway,sorryifwekeptyouupallnight.”
Noticehowheimpliedhewashavingsexforhours?Thismanhadanegobigenoughtoblotoutthe

sun.“Please.IwassoboredIfellasleepinsideoffiveseconds.”

“Shedidn’t,”hechuckled.
“Wasshescreamingyournameallnightlong?Brodie,Brodie,Brodie?”
Hesmirked,“Yeah.Ifyouwereinmybed,youwouldtoo.”
Ilaughed.“Doyouhearyourself?YouareeasilythemostarrogantmanI’veevermet.”
“Youloveit.”
“Really,”Isaidsourly.Iglaredathim.Hewassuchanass.Ipointedatmyfaceandgrimaced.“Does

thislooklikelove?Howaboutdisgust.”

“IfI’msodisgusting,whyhaven’tyouslammedyourdoorinmyface?”
“MaybebecauseI’mpolite.Andmaybe…”Ineededamomenttothink.Icouldn’tlethimhavethelast

word.Adoorslamwasaneasyexit.Iwantedtohandhimhisballsbeforepolitelyclosingthedoorinhis
face.“MaybeIlikewatchingyousquirm.Somethingtellsmemostwomendanceforyouoncommand.
Notme.”

“Notyet.”
“Ha!Haveyoueverseenacatcatchamouseandplaywithitbeforeiteatsit?”
“Yougonnaeatme,Chelsea?”
“Oh,wow.Areyousixteen?”
“Causeifyou’renot,I’lleatyourighthere.JustgivemethewordandI’lltearyourpantsoff.”He

staredatmycrotch.

“Eyesup,Brodie.”
Hestaredatmine.“Ibetyoutastelikecherrypie.”
“Doyouunderstandhowthatisthewrongthingtotellawomanonherperiod?”Iwasn’tonmy

period,buthedidn’tknowthat.

“Icanvampire.”
Ichuckled,“I’mnotsureIwanttoknowwhatthatmeans.”
“ItmeansIwilleateveryinchofyoulikeyou’redessertsevendaysaweek,allyearlong.Nothing

tastesbetterthanawomancomingonmytongue.”

“Please,”Iscowled,tryingnottopicturehimburyinghisfacebetweenmylegsandlickingmeto

orgasm.

“Who’sbeggingnow,C.C.?”
“Notme,B.B.”
“Wait,doyouknowmylastname?”
“DoesitstartwithaB?”
“Yeah.”
“IsitBrains?”
“No.SowhatisB.B.?”
Ishrugged,“ButtBrains.”
Hesnickered.
Ishookmyhead.Icouldn’tbelievehefoundthisfunny.
WhywasItalkingtothisfool?NomanI’deverknowntalkedthiswaytowomen.Itwas…itwas

stupid.Ifeltstupidjustforlistening.EvenstupiderthatIwasrespondingtohisroutine.Ishould’ve
closedthedoorinhisfacefiveminutesago.

Hiseyesflashed.
Damnit,theywerecaptivating.Blazingblue.Likehisbroadshouldersandtattooedarmsandtherest

ofhim.Ihatedthathehadanyeffectonme.SowhywasIenjoyingtheattentionsomuch?

Ifoldedmyarmsdefensivelyacrossmynewboobs.Doingsopushedthemupprovocatively,soI

repositionedmyarmsuntiltheywerecovered,makingmynipplestingle.GoodthingIhadmysportsbra
onundermynewtanktop,otherwiseBrodieprobablywould’venoticedmynipplespokingthroughand
jumpedtoconclusions.

“Nervous?”Hereachedoutandbrushedaknuckleacrossmynakedforearm.
Myskinfiredwherehetouchedit.Ineededtoputastoptothis.“No.Nauseous.”
Hechuckled,“Youwish.”Hesteppedtowardme.
“Stop.”Ithrustmypalmintohisrockhardchest.Notnecessarilyagoodidea.Iwantedtorunmy

handsalloverthatchest.Secretmoan.

Hebackedupastep.“Anythingyousay,C.C.”
Despitemynewheight,hewasstilltallerthanIwas.Ilookedupintohiseyesandswallowedhard.

“Whatdoyouwantfromme,Brodie?”

“Everything.”
Wowohwow.Iwasonthevergeoftellinghimhecouldhaveme,takeme,dome,useme,anythinghe

coulddreamup,aslongasitinvolvedhiscockinsidemy—gulp!Sadly,thiswasananimalattractionmy
bodycouldn’tdeny.Mendidn’tgetanymoredesirablethanhim.Idesperatelyneededtomatewiththis
man.Now.

Goodthingmybrainsteeredmyship.“Out.”Ishotmyfingeroverhisshoulder.“Go,Brodie.I’m

busy.”

“Fornow,”hemuttered.
Ibarked,“What?!”
Hebackedoutofmyapartment,smilingproudly,likeheknewhe’dmadeprogress.Hadwornme

down.Hadfoundachinkinmyarmor.

Notevenclose.Igrowled,“Idon’twanttoseeyourfaceagainuntilmydoorisfixed!”Crap!Whyhad

Iaddedthatpartaboutmydoor?Ishould’vesaid,Idon’twanttoseeyourfaceeveragainANDfixmy
frickingdoor!Damnme!I’djustgivenhimanexcusetoseemeagain.Stupid!

“Seeyoulater,C.C.”Hissmilespreadandhisdimpleswerebackandhelookedridiculouslycutein

themanliestwaypossible.

“Go,Brodie!”Irestrainedanervousgiggleandclosedmydoorinhisface.Politely,becauseIwasn’t

abitch,notbecauseIwasreluctanttocloseit.

IgroanedasIleanedagainsttheinsideofmydoor.
Imayhavegottenthelastword,butthathadn’tgonethewayI’dplannedatall.

Chapter12

DougWallace,mybossandgeneralmanageratthe95CentStoreinWestLA,waswalkingtohiscar

whenIpulledintotheparkinglot.Hewasn’tusuallyherethislateonaFridaybecausehehadawifeand
kidsathome.Maybehe’dstayedlatetoshowmynewreplacementtheropes,whoeverthatwas.

IparkednearDoug’scarandjumpedoutofmine.Iwasfullypreparedtogetdownonmykneesand

begformyjobback.DougandIgotalonggreatandheknewIwasagoodmanager.Hewouldunderstand.

Ihoped.
ItrottedupbehindhimjustashewassittingdownbehindthewheelofhisChrysler.“Hey,Doug!Wait

asecond.”

Heturnedtolookatme.Hiseyeswidened.Thentheynarrowed.Hestaredrightatme,confused.“DoI

knowyou?”Hedidn’trecognizeme.

Ofcoursehedidn’t.
Iwasn’tme.
“Doug,it’s…”WhatwasIgoingtosay?It’sme,Jane.Thismaysoundstrange,butIturnedintoa

supermodel.That’swhyIwasoutsickforfivedaysanddidn’tcall.CanIhavemyjobbacknow?
Prettyplease?

“WheredoIknowyoufrom?”
“I…”
“Youlookfamiliar.”Thewheelswereturning.Hepointedatmecasuallyasrecognitionsetin.“Were

youinthatnewX-MenmovieMatthewmademegosee?”MatthewwasDoug’stenyearoldson.Loved
thekid.

“Uh,no?”
“Oh,Iknow.You’reMatthew’sswimcoach,right?You’reLauren,right?”
Thiswasnotgoingtowork.HewouldneverbelieveIwasme.“Youknowwhat?Ihaveyouconfused

withsomeoneelse.”

Hefrowned.“You’renotLauren?”
“No,I’m—”Istoppedmyself.DougandIweren’tBFFs,butIlikedhimandconsideredhimafriend.

I’devenbeentohishouseandmethiswifePamandsonMatthewseveraltimes.ButcouldItrusthim
withthetruth?No,Ididn’tknowhimthatwell.IfIwasgoingtotellsomebody,hewasn’tfirstoreven
tenthonmylist.“I’msorrytobotheryou,sir.”Iturnedtogo.

“Wait,howdidyouknowmyname?DidPamputyouuptothis?”
“I—Ishouldgo.”IwalkedawayasfastasIcould.
Outofhabit,Iwalkedrighttowardthedoorsofthe95CentStore.Icouldn’thelpglancingbackat

Doug.Hisheadpokedovertheroofofhiscarandhewatchedme.Afteramoment,heshookhishead,
climbedin,anddroveoff.

Ihadasinkingfeelingthatmylifewasabouttogetalotmorecomplicated.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Insidethestore,Iwanderedthroughtheaisles,pretendingtoshop.Ineededtocollectmythoughts

beforeIapproachedanyoneelse.Somethingaboutbeinginafamiliarplacehelpedmefocus.

Atthemoment,Mariawasatregister4andNataliewasatregister6.UnlikeDoug,whowasmyboss,

MariaandNatalieweremysubordinates.Imayhavebeentheirmanager,butIbelievedinaverycasual
managementstyle.Ineverbossedanyonearound,andIwasprobablymorefriendlywiththemthanIwas
withDoug.Inmyexperience,youcouldaccomplishfarmorebycaringthanorderingpeoplearound.It
hadworkedformesofar.

WithMaria,weoftentalkedaboutourpersonallives.She’dbeenatthe95CentStorefortwoyears.I

knewaboutAntonio,herboyfriend.Ialsoknewshewasdyingforhimtofinallyproposeafterthreeyears
ofdating.Shewasalready20anddidn’twanttostillbesingleat25.Sheplannedonhavingtwokidsby
then.Sosweet.

Ididn’tfeelasclosetoNataliebecauseshewasabitshyandmousyandshe’donlybeenworkinghere

forsixmonths.Butwegotalongwellenoughandshe’dtoldmeallaboutherplanstofinishclassesatLA
CityandeventuallygetabusinessdegreeatCalStateLA.Iwastheonewhoconvincedcorporatetopay
hertuitionatLACity,forwhichshewashugelygrateful.Itwasn’tmuchbutitwassomething.Ifshe
stayedonthejoblongenough,myplanwastoaskcorporatetopayforhertuitionatCalStateLA.

Standinginthedrinksaisle,IgrabbedabottleofTazoTeaandmademywaytotheregisters.Ireached

register6asNataliewassettingtheClosedsignonherconveyorbelt.Shelookedrightatmeandsmiled
beforeturningaway.

Shedidn’trecognizeme.
That’sokay.Maybeshehadsomethingelseonhermind.Likehernewmanager,whowasstanding

behindherandholdinghercashdrawer.Ididn’trecognizehim.Hewastall,lookedaboutfiftyishwith
mostlygrayhair,andheremindedmeofmyhighschoolMathteacher,whowasatotalperv.I’msurethe
resemblancewascompletelycoincidental.Besides,thisguywasn’tamathteacher.Heworeablue95
CentStorevestoverhisbuttondownshirt.I’msurehewasnice.Dougwouldn’thireapervtoworkthe
nightshift.Neitherwouldcorporate.

“Excuseme,”Nataliesaidasshetriedtobackoutoftheregisterarea.
IfIwasn’tmistaken,thenewmanagerwasblockingherway.Idefinitelyfeltsomeweirdness.
ManagerguywasbusypretendingtodosomethingwithNatalie’scashdrawer.Heshould’vejusttaken

ittothemanager’sboothtocountit.Instead,hehelditupaboveherhead,asifsuggestingsheshould
squeezepasthim.

Washeserious?
Morelikeseriousperv.
Natalieglancedatmebriefly.Shewasn’trecognizingme.Butitseemedlikeshewaspleadingfor

help.AsIwasabouttospeak,shesaidtotheperv,“CanIgoplease?”

“You’vegotroom,”hesaid.“Squeezeonby.”
Wasthisreallyhappening?
Itwas.
Nataliewinced,afraidtosayanything.Shewasn’tonetostandupforherself.
Whenmanagerguycaughtmewatching,hesteppedasideforNatalie,butonlyslightly.Shehadto

wigglepasthim.Hehadhisdickfacingher.Probablyhadahardon.Nataliepressedherstomachagainst
thebaggingcounterandbentoveritsoshedidn’thavetotouchhimasshewentby.Managerguystared
downatherlikehewasdoingherdoggiestyle.I’msurehewasimagininghernaked.

Disgusting.
Icouldn’tbelievewhatIwasseeing.Ishookmyheadindisbelief.WhenNataliewasgone,Iwas

readytotearhisballsoffandremindhimthatsexualharassmentwasagainstthelaw.

BeforeIcouldsayanything,hewalkedbacktothemanager’sboothatthefrontofthestore.
Whatadepraveddickhead.
Icouldn’treallydoanythingaboutitnow.Ididn’tworkhere.I’dbeenfiredfordisappearing.AndI

wasn’tevenme.Iwasnothingbutarandomcustomer.

Iwalkedtoregister4whereMariawasbusyringingupanoldmanwhowasbuyingseveralsixpacks

ofEnsure,allofthemvanillabecausethatwastheonlyflavorweeverstocked.Likeeverythingwe
carried,I’msuretheyweresixmonthspasttheirshelfdate,hencethe95centstickerprice.Iwatched
Mariaassherangupeverything.

Whatwouldshethinkwhenshesawme?
WhatwouldIsay?
Ihadnoidea.
I’djusthavetogowiththemoment.
IsetmyTazoTeabottleontheconveyorbeltasMariabaggedupthelastoftheoldman’sEnsuresand

handedhimeverything.Hethankedherandwalkedaway.

Mariaturnedtomeandsmiled.Shealwayshadasmileforthecustomers.“Hi.”Sheswipedmytea

overthebarcodescanneranditbeeped.“Anythingelse?”

Istaredintohereyes,willingforhertosomehowrecognizeme.
Stillsmiling,shefrowned.ShehadnoideawhoIwas.
Ithurt.Physicallyhurt.Iwantedtograbherwristandplead,Maria!It’sme,Jane!Don’tyou

recognizeme?!

Shegigglednervouslyandlookedaway.“That’llbeninety-fivecents.”
Please!Maria!It’sme!Thiswasverydistressing.MyhandsshookasIpulledadollarbilloutofmy

purse.

Mariatookitandmadechange.Sheheldoutanickelandmyreceipt.
Istaredather,vergingonshock.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Thiswasworsethangettingfrienddumped.

Iknewbecauseithadhappenedmanytimestomefromkindergartenuntilcollege.Peopledecidingthey
didn’tlikemebecauseIwastoonerdyordorkyorweird,andtheturnedupnosesthatsoonfollowed.In
somecases,peopletoldmestraighttomyfacetheydidn’tlikemeforonestupidreasonoranother.That
hadalwayshurtthemost.I’dneverbelievedpeoplecouldbesocruel,buttheycould.

Butallthatwasdifferentfromthis.
Mariawasn’tajerkyhighschoolkid.Shelikedme.
Iknewshedid.
Ithoughtshedid.
Iwassuddenlydoubtingmyself.
Ihadtoremindmyselfshedidn’trecognizeme.
Toher,Iwasacompletestranger.
Butonsomedeepemotionallevel,itfeltexactlythesameasifshewereshunningme.IthurtsomuchI

wantedtovomit.ButItriedtoremindmyselfMariaandIweresolid.ThelasttimeI’dseenheratwork,
we’dlaughedthroughhalfourshift,likealways.Theonlythingthathadchangedsincethenwas…

Me.
“Yourchange,”Mariasaid,gesturingwiththenickelandmyreceipt.
“Oh,right.”Itookthemandstuffedtheminmypurse.
“Lady,areyouokay?”Herconcernwasgenuine.
Ismiledabsently.“Yeah.I’mfine.Thanks.”Vergingontears,Ihurriedpasther.Onmywaytowardthe

exit,Ialsopassedthenewmanagerstandingintheelevatedmanager’sbooth.

“Findeverythingokay?”heaskedwithasmile,eyesroamingalloverme.
“Yeah,”Isaidsoftly,stilldealingwithmyfeelingsaboutMaria.
“YougetsomeTazo?”Heleanedovertheedgeofthemanager’sbooth.
“Huh?Yeah.Iguessso.”Islowedtoastop,mymentalgearsshiftingtothisrapistintraining.
“That’sgreattea.”HewasstaringatmelikeIwasatargetforhisdick.Theonlyreasonhewasstaring

atmyteawasbecauseIheldthebottleinfrontofmyboobs.Helookedlikehewasreadytodiverightin.

Getagoodlook,dicknose.Thisguywastoomuch.Iglancedathisnametag.PhilBerger.Ileanedan

elbowonthemanager’sboothcountertop,somethingI’dneverbeentallenoughtodobeforetoday.I
smiledathim,givinghimafrontrowseattomytits.Therewasn’tmuchcleavagebecausemysportsbra
coveredmostofit,butthatdidn’tstophimfromdrooling.

“Hey,Phil,”Isaid,allfriendly.
“Hey.”Hesmiled.“IsthereanythingIcanhelpyouwith?”
Likeremovingmybra?Idon’tthinkso.“Tellme,Phil.What’sitlikebeingthenightmanagerhere?”
“Itpaysthebills.”Heshrugged,blushing.SomethingtoldmePhilwasn’tusedtosupermodelsflirting

withhim.Thatdidn’tstophimfromleaningoverthecounterwhilehiseyestriedtoburnaholethrough
mysportsbra.

“That’sgreat,that’sgreat.”Inoddedearnestly,skimmingmyfingernailonthecountertoplazily.

Suggestively.Sexually.

“AndIgettomeetpeoplelikeyou.”Hesmiled,histhinlipspullingbackovercrookednicotine

stainedteeth.Thesmellofstalecigarettesonhisrankbreathwaslikeapunchintheface.

“Likeme?”Isaidcoquettishly,hidingmydisgustandtryingnottogag.
“Yeah,”henodded,tryingnottodrool.
“Whatdoyoumean‘likeme,’Phil?”
“YouknowwhatImean,”hesnorted.Translation:PeoplelikeyouarewomenIwanttoeye-fuck,

grope,orfondlewhethertheygivemepermissionornot.

“IguessIdo.”Ismirked,“Phil,Iwasjustwondering…”Ilookedupathimwithhoodedeyes.
“Yeah?”Heswallowedhard,readytojumpoutofhispantsandintomine.
“Iscorneringfemaleemployeessoyoucancopafeelpartofyourjobdescription?”Asmugsmile

spreadacrossmyface.

Hewinced,blinkedseveraltimes,stoodupstraightandclearedhisthroat.
Iglaredknivesathim.“IsawwhatyoudidtoNatalie.I’msureDougWallacewouldn’tbetoohappy

tohearaboutit.OrStacyLewisatcorporate.”

Hiseyesnarrowed.“Whoareyou?AndhowdoyouknowDoug?OrStacy?”
“I’myourworstnightmare,Phil.”
“I’msorry,”hegrumbledangrily,shakinghishead,“butIhavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout.”
Iscowledsourly.“I’msureyoudon’t.Butyoumakedamnsureyoukeepyourhandstoyourself,Phil.

Ifyouwanttokeepthisjobandpayyourbills,thatis.Youdowantthat,don’tyou,Phil?”

“Miss,Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.Youneedtoleavemystore.”
“Yourstore?”Ilaughed.Itwasmystore.I’dworkedhereforalmostfiveyears.“Youowntheplace?”
“Nowyoulisten,”hegrowledinalowvoice,furious.“Idon’tknowwhoyouthinkyouare—”I

wasn’tentirelysuremyselfatthemoment,butIknewIwasn’tapervydicknoselikehim.“—butIdon’t
appreciateyoucominginhereandmakingfalseaccusationsabout—”

“Please,Phil.Isawyou.ShouldIgoaskNatalieifshewascomfortablewiththewayyoutriedtopin

heragainsttheregisterwithyourdick?”

Hiseyeswerewideandhesquirmedwithfright.Hismouthwiggleddefiantly,butnowordscameout.
Itappedthecountertopoftheboothwithmyfingernails.“Ifyoucanmanagetokeepyourhandsand

yourdicktoyourself,Phil,youwon’thaveanyproblems.Ifyoudon’t,”Ipointedathim,“Ipromiseyou,I
willgetyoufiredforsexualharassment.”Ismiledafriendlysmile.“Anddon’tstareatmyasswhenI
walkoutofhere.”Iturnedandwaltzedtowardtheexitdoor.Halfwaythere,Ispunaroundandwinkedat
him.Hestaredrightatme,mouthhangingopen.“Remember,Phil.Eyesupandhandstoyourself.”

Outside,Istrolledacrosstheparkinglotwithavictoriousgrinonmyface.

Chapter13

“Youwillneverbelievewhathappenedatworktonight,”IblurtedovermyiPhonetoChelsea.

BecauseIwasdriving,thiswasavoicecall.Wheneverdramahappened,Iwouldalwayscallherwithout
asecondthoughttovent.Shealwaysdidthesame.

“Slowdown,Jane!What’swrong?”
IwasdrivingmyHyundaiupSantaMonicaBoulevard,headingtowardmyapartment,screamingatmy

phone.“Men!I’mtellingyou,they’realldogs!”

“Whathappened?Andwhyhaven’tyoucalledmeallweek?Iwasworriedaboutyou.Andwhydoes

yourvoicesoundstrange?”

Whoops.Iforgotaboutthat.Infact,Ihadn’treallythoughtaboutitatall,butmyvoicewasdifferent.

Notalot.Maybehuskierthanitusedtobe,butitwasn’tmyvoice.“Oh,Iwasreallysick.”Ifaked
severalcoughs.“Stillgettingoverit.”Cough,cough.

“Areyouatwork?”
“No,Imeanyeah.I’monmybreak.”
“Whyaren’tyouonFaceTime?”WealmostalwaysusedFaceTime.Notusingitstoodoutasstrange.

Infact,theonlytimeIdidn’tuseitwithherwaswhiledriving.Isuddenlyrealized,ifIhadn’tbeen
drivingwhenI’dcalledherjustnow,Iprobablywould’veFaceTimedherandshewould’veseenme
lookinglikesomeoneelse.Wow,thatwasaclosecall.Ineededtobemorecareful.

Itookadeepbreath,“Oh,uh,Iamatwork.Youknow,uh,Ididn’twanttouseupmydata.”Itwasthe

worstexplanationever.Ihadunlimiteddata.Ihopeshedidn’tcallmeonit.

“Anyway,whathappened?”
“Okay,sothis—”IwasallsettotellheraboutwhatPhilBergerthepervynewnightmanagerhad

donetoNatalie.ButthenIrealizedIcouldn’ttellthestorywithoutrevealingthatI’dlostmyjoband
wasn’tthenightmanageranymore.SoIslightlyadjustedthetruthandmadeitsoundlikePhilBergerwas
justsomepervycustomerwhocorneredNatalieinoneoftheaisleswhileshewasstockingshelves.Iwas
lyingthroughmyteethtomysister,butthatdidn’tchangewhathadhappenedtoNatalie.

WhenIfinishedmystory,Chelseasaid,“Whatanass.Didyoucallthecopsonhim?”
Whoops.Ifyourbossharassedyou,youcalledHR.Ifarandomcustomerharassedyou,youcalledthe

police.Ineededtoadjustmystory!

Isaid,“No,uh,hedidn’tactuallygropeher.Justscaredher.GoodthingIwastheretochasehimoutof

thestorebeforehecoulddoanythingserious.”Morelies.“ButI’vegotmyeyeoutforhimifheever
comesinagain.”

“Didyougetanyvideoofhimonthesecuritycameras?Maybeyoucanturnthatovertothecops.”
“Oh,uh…wedid,but,uh…hewaswearingahatandsunglassesandyoucan’tseehisfaceinthe

video.”Icringed.Lies,lies,lies!

“Goodforyou,Jay.Thosegirlsareluckytohaveyouastheirmanager.”
Igrimacedtomyself.“Yeah.Totally.”ItpainedmethatIcouldn’texplainwhathappenedtomysister.I

neverheldthingsbackfromher.

Suddenly,acarhornblaredrightbesidemywindow.
Chelseaasked,“Issomeonehonkingatyou?Ithoughtyousaidyouwereatwork.”
“What?No.Imean,yeah.I’mstandingoutsideintheparkinglot.Bythestreet.There’salotoftraffic.”

Icringedagain,disgustedwithmylyingself.

“Gotcha.Oh,hey,didyouevertalktoMomandDad?Dadcalledmethisafternoonandaskedwhyyou

hadn’tcalledthemback.Ithinkhe’sworriedsomethinghappenedtoyou.”

Somethinghadhappenedallright.Iwasn’ttheirdaughteranymore!Notontheoutside.Butthatcounted

foreverything.Iftheysawme,MomandDadwouldneverbelieveIwasJane.Never.IfIwasintheir
shoes,Iwouldn’teither.Funnyhowyouonlyrealizedtheimportanceofyourparticularappearanceafter
ittransformedwithoutwarning.Iwasquicklyrealizingyourfacewasyourfingerprintandeverysingle
personwhoknewyouwascheckingitlikeabarbouncerchecksIDs.Unlikebouncerswhomightgetto
knowyouovertime,yourfriendsandlovedonescheckedyourfaceeverytimetheysawyou.Everysingle
time.Iftheydidn’trecognizeyou,youdidn’tgettheirtrust.Youwereacompleteoutsiderandnottobe
trusteduntilproventrustworthy.

IsaidtoChelsea,“No,I’mfine.DidyoutellDadanything?”
“Ijustsaidyouwereprobablybusyworking.Butyoushouldcallthemsoon.”
“Iwill.”MomandDadbothhaddayjobs,soIrarelytalkedtothemduringtheweek.Workingwasa

perfectlyplausibleexplanation.“Anyway,mybreakisalmostoversoIshouldprobablygo.”

“Sure.Oh,hey,Ihavesomegoodnews.”
“Yeah?”
“I’mflyingdownearlyforameetingwithanewclient.Iassumeyouhaveroomformetocrash?”
“When?”
“Twoweeks.Isthatokay?”
Ohno.HowwasIgoingtoexplainlookinglikeasupermodeltomysister?Iwasn’treadytodealwith

this!Mytopprioritywasfindingajob,nottryingtoconvincemyfamilyIwasn’tascamartist!

“Jay?Youstillthere?”
“Yeah!Ofcourse!You’realwayswelcomeatmyapartment,Chelsea!”Igroundmyteethtogether,

wantingallofthistogoaway.

“Ican’twaittoseeyou.”
“Metoo!”Ilied.
Whatthefricka-frackwasIgoingtodointwoweeks?

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Athome,mykeysjingledinthelockoutsidemyapartmentdoor.Forsomereason,Icouldn’tgetit

open.Whywasthistakingsolong?SurelynotbecauseIkindasortamaybewantedBrodietocomeout
andflirtwithme.No,Ihatedthatguy.Itwasjustthestupidlockmisbehaving.

“Jane?Isthatyou?”MyotherneighborMrs.Wiserstuckherheadoutofherapartment.I’dmetherthe

dayImovedinandhadknownherforyears.Shewas82andhadlivedbyherselfsinceherhusbanddied
sevenyearsago.Wetalkedallthetimeandoftenhaddinnertogether,whatwithusbothbeingsinglegals.

“Hey,Mrs.Wiser,”Ismiled,happytoseeafamiliarface.
“Oh!You’renotJane.Sorry,dear.Ithoughtyouweresomeoneelse.”Sheturnedtogobackintoher

apartment.

Myheartsankonceagain.Somuchforafamiliarface.Shedidn’tknowthenewme.Somethingtold

meshewouldneverbelieveIwasme,nomatterhowItriedtotellher.She’dprobablythinkIwastrying
toscamhertoo.

Shesuddenlystoppedandliftedtheglassesdanglingfromabeadedchainaroundherneckandpeered

atme.“AreyouChelsea?”

“No,”Isighed.Overtheyears,Mrs.WiserhadspentplentyoftimetalkingtoChelsea.Sheknewhow

ChelseaspokeandIdidn’tthinkshe’dbelieveIwasher.Shewasverysharpforherage.Betterformeto

besomeoneelse.Butwho?SinceBrodieknewmeasChelsea,Mrs.Wisermayaswelltoo.Ididn’twant
toriskhavingthemcallingmedifferentnamesinfrontofeachother,soIneededtobeadifferentChelsea.
“Um…I’mChelseaandJane’scousin.ButmynameisChelseatoo.”

“AnotherChelsea?”Shelaughed.“Howstrange.”
“Yeah.”
“I’veneverheardofsuchathing.”Shewinked,“Imaybeold,butIdon’tknoweverything.LasttimeI

checked,Idon’tthinkIevenknewthehalfofit.”

“Idon’tevenknowaquarterofit,”Igiggled,happytobetalkingtosomeonewhoknewmewithout

themtreatingmelikeacompletestranger.

“It’ssonicetomeetyou,ChelseaNumberTwo.Ihavetoask,howdidyouknowmyname?”
Whoops.Itoldyoushewassharp.“Oh,uh…”
“DidJanetellyou?”
“Yeah.”
“Howisshe,bytheway?Ihaven’tseenherinalmostaweek.Issheallright?”
Notevenslightly.Ilaughednervously,“Yeah.She’sfine.She’s…onvacation.”InmybestBritish

accentIadded,“Holiday,asweBritsliketosay.”Asusual,Iwashidingmyanxietywithhumor.

“Ohreally?Wheredidshego?”
Great.“Um,Janewentonaroadtrip.”
“Howcomeshedidn’ttakehercar?It’sstillparkedinhercarport.”Sharpasever.
Yes,Isuckedatlying.Ohwhatatangledwebweweave,whenfirstwepracticetodeceive.“Um,she

tookmine.I’musinghers.Minehas,uh…bettergasmileage.”

“Oh,that’sniceofyou,Chelsea.I’msureJanereallyappreciatesthesavings.Gasissoexpensive

thesedays.”

“Sureis,”Ismiled.NowIwasdyingtogetoutofthisconversationbecauseIdidn’tthinkIcouldlie

mywaythroughtherestofitwithoutMrs.Wisercatchingon.

“Youaren’thungry,areyou,dear?Iwasjustabouttoputdinnerinthemicrowave.”
“Thanks.Ijustate.Maybenexttime?”
Shewavedahand.“Sure,sure.Youprobablyhaveplansanyway.ItisFridaynight.I’msureapretty

youngwomanlikeyouhasplentyofboyfriends.”

Ilaughednervously.Notyet,butthatBrodieissuretrying.“Nicemeetingyou,Mrs…”Iofferedmy

hand,actinglikeI’dalreadyforgottenhername.Iwasalsohopingshe’dforgetIalreadyknewit.

“Wiser.”Sheshookit.“YoureallydolookalotlikeJane’ssister,youknow.”
“Youthinkso?”
Sheliftedherglassesagain,examiningmyface.“Verymuchso.”Sheloweredthemandclucked,“Too

cute.Well,havefuntonightwithwhateverhisnameis.Anddon’tdoanythingIwouldn’tdo,”shelaughed
andtuggedmyelbow.“Inotherwords,useacondom.”

“Mrs.Wiser!”Igiggled.
“Anddon’tbeafraidtocarryyourown.Weladiesneedtotakecareofourselves.Can’tdependonthe

mentodoitforus.AmIright?”SameoldMrs.Wiser.

“Youare.”
“Nicetomeetyou,ChelseaNumberTwo.”Shelaughedandsmiledbeforeshufflingintoherapartment.
Iwentinsidemineandclosedthedoor.
AtleastsomeoneIknewwastreatingmeliketheysortofknewme.
MaybeIneededtostarttellingeverybodyIwasmyowncousin.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Iatedinneralone,sittingonmycouchwhileCasablancaplayedontheTV,wonderingwhatIwas

goingtodoaboutajob.Icouldn’tgobacktothe95CentStore.HowwasIgoingtoconvinceDoug
WallaceandMariaandNatalieandcorporatethatIwasme?Imean,withoutsoundinginsane?

Pickingupmyfinalpaycheckwouldbebadenough.WhatwasIgoingtodo?ShowDougWallacemy

IDandinsistIwasJaneJohnson?Fatchance.He’dnevergivememycheck.

MaybeIcouldgetcorporatetomailittome.ThatwayIcoulddeposititattheATMwithoutthehassle

ofID.Buthowlongwouldittakeforcorporatetomailit?WouldIgetitintimetopayrent?

Whoknew.
Ishookmyhead.Ifmyrentwaslate,Petrakwouldbepissed.Hehatedlaterentpayments.Hehated

themevenmorewhenyourfrontdoorlookedlikeithadbeenrunoverbyatractor.StupidBrodieandhis
stupidchair.Andspeakingofstupidjerkswhoweretoohotfortheirowngood,whenwashegoingtofix
myfrickingdoor?

DINGDONG!
Inearlyscreamed.
Butitwasjustmydoorbell.
ProbablyMrs.Wiser.OrmaybeBrodie.UnlessitwasPetrak?Ihopeditwasn’tPetrak.Ididn’twant

todoanymoreimpromptulyingtonight.HadPetrakmetmysister?Icouldn’tremember.ShouldIjusttell
himIwasmycousinChelsea,likeIwaseveryoneelse?WhateverItoldhim,Ineededtotellhim
something.Ifhekeptseeingsupermodelmecomingandgoing,andnoplainJane,hewouldaskquestions.

Igotuptopeekthroughmypeephole.Normally,Ialwayshadtostandonmytiptoestoseethroughit.

NowIhadtoleandown.Thereweresomeadvantagestobeinga5’9”supermodel.

WhenIsawwhowasoutside,Ialmosthadaheartattackasadrenalinfloodedmybodywithliquid

panic.

GeorgeSweetstoodoutside.
GeorgeknewmysistertentimesbetterthanMrs.Wiserdid.
Georgeknewmeathousandtimesbetterthanhedidmysister.
GeorgealsoknewIdidn’thaveacousinnamedChelsea.
Georgewouldbeinstantlysuspicious.
Hewouldknowsomethingwaswrong.
Shit!
Hewouldknow!
WhatwasIgoingtodo?
Iwasn’treadyformorepretendingIwasn’tme,especiallynotwithGeorge,andIcouldn’tthinkofa

suitablelieunderallthispressure!

DINGDONG!
Isquealed.
“Jane?Isthatyou?Areyouhome?”
Mymindraced.Ihadn’tcalledGeorgeindays.Thatwasn’tnormalforus.I’msurehewasworried

aboutme.ShouldIpretendIwasn’there?IcouldalwaystexthimthatIwasfine.OrshouldIopenthis
doorandtellhimthetruth?I’dhavetotellsomeoneeventually,wouldn’tI?

MaybeGeorgewasthebestpersontotell.
Hemightactuallybelieveme.
Georgewasabigconspiracytheorybeliever.Alienabductions,UFOshiddenawayingovernment

hangers,Area51,Roswell,allthatstuff.Healsobelievedinghosts,balllightning,andeveryotherkind
ofparanormalactivity.Ifanyonewasgoingtobelieveme,itwouldbeGeorge.

Ihoped.
ShouldIjusttellhim?
UnlessIplannedoncuttingalltieswitheveryoneIknewandforginganewlifeasawomanwithno

past,Ihadtotellsomeone.Georgewasreallytheperfectpersontostartwith.Ihadnointerestinbeing
somewanderingvagabondorheroicloner.No,Ineededmyfriendsandfamily.IknewthatfactlikeI
knewmyownname.

WasitJaneorwasitChelsea?
Ha,ha.
Butnotfunny.
“Jane?”
Nowornever…
Itookadeepbreathandopenedmydoorslowly,wincinginanticipationofhisreaction.
Georgefrowned.“Oh,uhhh,hi,Chel—”Hedidthislittleheadshake,probablyrealizingIwasn’t

Chelsea.“Um…isJanehere?”

Ihatedthis.“Yes.Imeanno.Youcancomeinandwaitforherifyouwant.”
“Whoareyou?”
“I’mJane’scousin.”Ididn’twanttotellhimthetruthwiththedoorwideopen.Mrs.WiserorBrodie

mightoverhear.“Comein.Jane’llbeheresoon.”

“Idon’trememberJanementioninganycousins.”
Igrunted,“Willyoujustcomeinside,George?”
“Howdoyouknowmyname?”
“Relax,George.I’mnotgoingtokillyou.Janetoldmeyoumightcomeby.”
Georgenibbledhislip.“Uhhh…maybeI’llcomebacklater.”Georgewasn’tthebravestguyintown,

butheknewhowtostayoutoftrouble.Runningalwaysworkedforrabbits.Theydiditallthetimewhen
theysenseddanger.

“Comein,George.”Igrabbedhisarmandpulledhiminside.HestumbledthroughthedoorandI

closeditbehindhimbeforehecouldescape.Normally,at5’5”,Georgewasthetallone.NowIwas.So
weird.“CanIgetyousomethingtodrink?”

“Nothanks.”Hejuststoodbythedoor,slightlyconfused.
“Nicehoodie,”Isaid.
Likeme,Georgehadabudgetwardrobethatconsistedofhoodies,T-shirts,jeans,andwhatevershoes

hecouldfindatPaylessShoeSourceforunder$14.99.Theoneplacewherehesplurgedwasonhis
hoodies.TheoneheworenowwasbrightskybluewithasilkscreenofRainbowDash’sbutttattooover
thebreastpocket.Thetattoowasacartooncloudwitharainbowlightningboltcomingout.Thehood
wasn’tup,butIknewithadponyearssewnontop,arainbowmanesewnalongtheseemofthehood,and
littlewingssewntothebackshoulders.Itlookedridiculous,butGeorgeloveditandworeitallthetime.
Hemaynothavebeenbravewhenitcametodanger,butwhenitcametohiswardrobe,hehadnofear.

“George,Ineedtotellyousomething.”
Heputhishandsinhishoodiepocketsandstaredatme.“DoyouknowwhereJaneis?”
“Please,sitdown.”Iledhimtothecouchandpulledachairoverfrommykitchentableandsatfacing

him.

“Um,whoareyou?AndwhatareyoudoinginJane’sapartment?”
“Uhhh…”Icouldn’tquitebringmyselftosayit.
Hiseyessuddenlywidened.“Isthissomekindofransomthing?DidyoukidnapJane?”
“No,George.Thisisn’taransomthing.Janeisfine.Nobodykidnappedher.”
Georgestoodup,agitated.“Wellwhereisshe?Ihaven’theardfromhersinceSunday.Issomething

wrong?Shebetterbeokay,orIswearI’ll…”Heranhiseyesoverme,tryingtomakesenseofthe

situation.

Iwastouchedthathecaredsomuch.Imean,we’dbeenclosefornineyears,butGeorgerarely

showedthismuchemotionwhenitcametome.“Relax,George.Janeisokay.Ipromise.”Itookadeep
breath.“George,thisisgoingtosoundcrazy.Maybeyoubettersitdown.”

“Isshedead?”Helookedhorrified.
“No!She’snotdead!She’s…Pleasesit,George.”
Hedidn’t.“Justtellmealready.Whoareyouanyway?”
Iheavedasigh.“George,I’mJane.”
Hebrokeintolaughter,shakinghishead.“What?!”
“George.It’sme.Jane.Yourfriendfornineyears.”
Hesnorteddenial.
“George,I’mtellingyouthetruth.I’mJane.Thevampire,butnotreallyavampire.Iworkthenight

shiftatthe95CentStore.TheotherdayItoldyouIwasatabloodravelastSaturdaynight,dressedlike
BladeandBuffy.ButIwasatspeeddatingwithChelseaandyousaidIshould’vegonespeedskating.The
lasttimeChelseawasintownandIwashangingoutwithher,ItoldyouafterwardthatsheandIdroveto
WashingtonsowecouldfindthetownofForksandkillthatstupidBellafromTwilight.ThenIwasgoing
tomarryEdwardbecauseI’malreadyavampire,andChelseawouldmarryJacobbecauseshelikes
werewolvesandTaylorLautner,eventhoughhe’swayyoungerthanher.”ConsideringI’dnevertold
anyonethatstuff,notevenChelsea(shehatedTwilightandTaylorLautner),GeorgehadtorealizeIwas
Jane.Whoelsewouldknowsuchspecificdetailsaboutourprivateconversations?

Georgelookedatmethoughtfully.“DidJanetellyouallthat?”
“No,George.I’mJane.I’mthegirlwhogoestoBronyconventionswithyouandtoSanDiegoComic

Con.Wemetincollegenineyearsago.Idon’tknowhowtoexplainit,butthisisme.Somethingweird
happened.Iwassickallweek.Icouldn’tgetoutofbed.WhenIwokeuptoday,Ilookedlikethis.”

Georgescowled.Washeconsideringit?
Irolledmyeyes.“WouldithelpanyifItoldyouIwasabductedbyaliensandtheydidthistomewith

advancedalienmedicaltechnology?”

Georgefrowned,“Uh,no?”
“Okay,seethisringonmyfinger?”Ipointedtoit.“It’scursed.Orblessed,orIdon’tknowwhat.

Anyway,Ithinkitmayhaveturnedmeintothis.”Igesturedatmyselfwithbothhands.

Heshookhisheadslowly.“What’syournameagain?”
“Jane.It’sJane!”
Hechewedhislowerlip.“Um,areyouhighonsomething?”
“George!It’sme!JaneJohnson!”
“Okay,okay.Calmdown.”Helookedaroundthoughtfully.“Okay,ifyou’reJane,thentellmewhatthe

LoveJugis.”

Iimmediatelybrokeoutincacklinglaughter.Itfeltsogoodtolaughsofreely.TheLoveJugwasa

secretI’dnevertoldanyoneexceptGeorge.NotevenChelsea.ItwastooembarrassingandI’dmade
Georgeswearhewouldnevertellasoul.

Smiling,IlockedeyeswithGeorge.“HaveyouevertoldanyoneabouttheLoveJug?”
“Nope.Nevertoldanyone.”Hesmirkedconfidently,likehe’djustposedanimpossibleriddlethat

couldneverbesolved.

Laughing,Isaid,“TheLoveJugis…”Iwasblushinglikecrazy.Themerethoughtofitmademewant

tohidemyheadunderapileofblankets.Shame,shame,shame!“CanIstartbydescribingit?”

“Sure.”
Itookadeepbreath,tryingnottolaugh.“Okay,theLoveJugisthisoldbottlemyparentskeepona

bookcaseintheirguestbedroom.You’veseenit.”Henodded.Hehad.“Theystillhaveit.Itlookslikea

genie’sbottle,likeinAladdin.It’saboutthiswideatthebottom,”Iheldmyhandsapart,“andaboutthis
tall.Theneckisshapedkindoflikeadick.Theentirethingiscoveredinleather,ithassomebrass
ornamentsonthebase,andabulbousleatherstopper.”Justdescribingitmademyfaceburn.Isearched
hiseyes.“Well?”

Hearchedaneyebrow,“ThatistheLoveJug.Butwhyisitcalledthat?”
Igrabbedamagazineoffmycoffeetableandthrewitathim.Thepagesflutteredopenanditlandedon

thecouchcushions.“I’mnotgoingtosayitoutloud,George!Tellingyouoncewasenough!”

George’ssmilefadedandhiskneestartedtobounceandheputhisfistsinhishoodiepockets.“Did

Janetellyouthatstory?”

Istartedtopanic.
Hewasn’tbelievingIwasme.
ItwasentirelypossiblethatnoonewouldeverbelieveIwasme.NomatterhowmanysecretsItold

them,whowouldpossiblybelieveIhadturnedintosomebodyelsewhileIwassleeping?Itwascrazy.
UFOswereonething.Peopleallovertheworld,reputablepeople,hadUFOsitings.

Buthowmanypeoplebelievedthatshapeshiftersreallyexisted?
NotevenGeorgebelievedinthoseconspiracies.
Fearsweptoverme.Isensedmyclosestfriendwasonthevergeofdisowningme.Igrabbedhimby

thewrist.“No,George!It’sme!JaneJohnson!IknowyouhateDomino’sPizzabecauseyouthinktheir
cheesetasteslikeplastic.Iknowyouhatespiders,andeverytimeyouhavetokillone,youplaySeek&
DestroybyMetallica.Iknowyou’restillobsessedwithyourLEGOcollection.IknowyoutriedLSD
onceincollege,butyouneverdiditagainbecauseitscaresyoutoomuch.Iknowyoublameyourmom
forgivingyouasthmabecauseshesmokedwhenyouwereababy.Iknowyourdadisanalcoholicbut
yourmominsistshe’snot.Iknowhewasdrunkthefirsttimehetaughtyouhowtodrive,andhesmashed
thecarintoacementtrashcanintheparkinglotatthemallwherehetookyoutopractice,andhebroke
theheadlightandmadeyoutellyourmomyoudidit.Andyouhatedhimforit,butyoutoldheranyway.”
MyvoicehadgonefromagitatedtoquietasIrevealeddarkeranddarkersecrets.Myhandswerefolded
inmylapandIstaredatthem.

WhenInextspoke,myvoicewasbarelyawhisper,“Ialsoknowyouwantedtokillyourselffouryears

ago.WhenIfoundthebottleofsedativesyoustolefromyourmominyourmedicinecabinet,Iflushed
themdownthetoilet.”

IwascryingwhenIlookedupathimandsaid,“Please,George.It’sme,Jane.Ineedyoutobelieve

me.You’retheonlyonewhoknows.”

Hiseyeswerestartingtowater.
Ifeltbadforbringingupsomuchofhispersonalpain.
“You’realiar.”Hestoodupandwalkedtomydoor.
“George!”Ithrewmyselfinfrontofmydoor,blockinghisway.“George,please!It’sreallyme!Jane

AbigailJohnson!”SeeinghistearsstarttoflowmademeloseitandIstartedsobbing.Igrabbedthe
sleevesofhishoodieandheldontothemlikealifepreserver.“Idon’tknowwhathappened,George!But
thisisme!Youhavetobelieveme!”

Hestaredatme,hisfaceredastearsdribbleddownhischeeks.“Letgoofme,”hegrunted.
Defeated,Idroppedmyhandsandstoodaside.
Hegrabbedthedoorknob.
InasmallvoiceIpleaded,“Please,George.Pleasedon’tgo.It’sme.Ipromiseit’sme.”
Hetorethedooropenandsteppedoutside.
“Please,”Iwhispered,“Ican’tdothisalone…”

Chapter14

“YouaresuchaLOSER,Jane!”Georgeshoutedinmyfaceanhourlater.
Ilaughed,“NoI’mnot!Iwonthelastthreeraces!”
“Likethatmatters,”hechuckled.“Iwonelevenstraightbeforethat.”
Wesatsidebysideonmycouch,bothofusholdinggamecontrollersattachedtothedustyoldSuper

NintendoconsoleI’dhadsinceIwasagirl.WewerebusyplayingSuperMarioKart,somethingweoften
didwhenwetalked.ItwasmindlessfunandIthinkithelpedbothofusfeelmoregroundedabout
everything.

Whilewe’dbeenplaying,we’dalsobeentalking.
IexplainedeverythingtoGeorge,fromwakingupthiswaytolosingmyjob.We’dalsogoneinto

microscopicdetailabouteverylittlethingGeorgeandIhaddonetogetherorknewabouteachother.
Finally,itseemedlikehebelievedme.

Itwasatremendousrelief.
“Youknow,”hesaid,“ifbeingsomeoneelseissuchapainintheA,maybeyoushouldjusttakethe

ringoff.”

“It’snottheOneRing,Samwise,”Isnarked.“Ifitwas,I’dbeinvisiblerightnow.”
“I’mnotsayingitis,Frodo,”hewinkedatme.“Butmaybeifyoutakeitoff,you’llgobacktonormal.”
“Howdoesthatmakeanysense?Theringhasnothingtodowithit.”
“Sotakeitoffandseewhathappens.”
Asenseofexcitementwashedoverme.“Maybeyou’reright.”Isliditoffwithoutasecondthought.

LookedatGeorge.“AmIanydifferent?”

“Notyet.Maybeittakesawhile?”
“Maybe.”IflashedbacktoallthepainI’dgonethroughduringmyswansformation.Iwasn’tinahurry

togothroughthatagain.Afteranotherthirtyseconds,IputtheringbackonandsmiledatGeorge.

Hesaid,“Iguessthismeansyouwanttostaybeautiful?”
“No.”Maybe.“ItjustmeansI’mnotreadytogothroughanotherfivedaysoftorture.Youweren’there

forallthefun,George.”Isaiditsarcastically.“IfeltlikeIwasdying.Andifturningbeautifulnearly
killedme,turningbackmightactuallykillme.”

“Goodpoint.Maybewaitafewweeks.Ormonths.”
“Yeah.”
IrealizedthenthatIhadnoideawhattolltheswansformationmighthavetakenonmybody.Painwas

asignaltoyourbodythatsomethingwaswrong,andI’dswumthroughanoceanofpaintogethere.The
ideathatthisringmighthavethepotentialtokillmeifIwasn’tcarefulwithitwasenoughformetoleave
itrightwhereitwas.Ifitain’tbroke,don’tfixit.SinceIdidn’thaveamanualforthering,maybeitwas
besttoleaveitwhereitwas.

Fornow.
(forever)
MaybeI’dtryagaininafewweekslikeGeorgesuggested.
AfterfinishinganotherMarioKartrace,helookedoveratme,hisfaceilluminatedbytheblueglowof

theTV.“YouknowwhatIkeepthinking,Jay?”

“What?”
“Don’thatemeforsayingthis.”

“Iwon’thateyou.”Iwasdesperateforhimtoacceptme.Hatingwasthelastthingonmymind.“The

nextraceisstarting.”

HeturnedbacktotheTV.Whileworkinghiscontroller,hesaid,“Ikeepthinkingyoulookexactlylike

SailorMoon.”TheJapaneseanimeSailorMoonwasaguiltypleasureforbothofus.

“Acartoon?”
“No,Imeaningeneral.”
Ishookmyhead,snickering.“IdonotlooklikeSailorMoon.Myhairisn’tdowntomytoesandI

don’twearaJapaneseSchoolGirloutfittwenty-fourseven.”

“True,”hesmiled.“Butyouhavetheblondehair.HowaboutareallifeBarbie?”
“Idon’tlooklikeBarbieeither!”
“Youkindado,”hechuckled,eyesfocusedonthegame.“WeneedtofindyouaKendoll.”
“Shutup!”Inudgedmykneeagainsthis.AnimageofBrodiepoppedintomymind.Brodiewasbetter

thanaKendoll.Hewasthebadboyversion.Andhewasreal.Andhelivednextdoorandhe…Ididn’t
wanttothinkaboutit.Brodiewasanarrogant,shallow,self-centeredjerk.

Georgetiltedhisheadwhileexaminingmyface.“You’rehot,Jane.Imean,reallyhot.Youcouldbe

oneofthosehotcosplaymodelslikeVioletteThreatt.”

Iknewthemodelhewastalkingabout.We’dseenVioletteThreattinpersonatthelastSanDiego

ComicCon.Asalways,she’dlookedgorgeousandhadbeensurroundedbyacrowdoffanswherevershe
went.Irememberedbeingjealousofherconfidenceandregalair.Shehadnoproblemstruttingaround
likeaqueenwhilewearingpracticallynothing.Thousandsofcomicbooknerdshaddrooledoverherand
beggedhertoposewiththemforphotos,whichshe’ddonewithgraceandgoodhumor.Iwasn’tlikeher.
Notevenclose.Ichuckled,“Thanks,George.ButsomehowIdon’tthinkthat’smycareerpath.”

“Whynot?Topcosplaymodelsmakeseriousbank.IwoulddoitifIhadthoseboobs.”Hewasstaring

rightatmychest.UnlikeBrodie,whosawmeasasexobject,IknewGeorgewasprobablyimaginingme
inaSailorMooncostume.Georgewassafe.Hecontinued,“VioletteThreattisliketheLadyGagaof
cosplayrightnow.She’sworthalmosttwomilliondollarsandshe’sonlybeendoingcosplayseriously
forfiveyears.Howisthatnotacareerpath?”

“Wait,areyouserious?”
Heshrugged.“That’swhatIreadonline.”
Sarcastically,“Andbecauseyoureaditontheinternet,itmustbetrue.”
“Justsaying.VioletteThreattdoespaidappearancesattonsofcons,hasvideosonYouTubeandmakes

admoneyfromthat,andhasaPatreonwhichbringsherlike$25Kamonth.”

“Amonth?”
“Yeah.”
“That’slikethreehundredgrandayear!”
“Iknow,right?Andguesswhat?You’rewayhotterthanher.I’msureyoucouldmakedoublewhatshe

does,ifyoutried.You’realreadyafan.Nowyoujustneedthecostumes.Andamanager.”

“WhydoIneedamanager?”
Hewinked,“Youneedsomeoneyoucantrust.”
“Who,you?”
“Durp.Yeahme.Whoelse?”
Istaredathim,mullingitover.I’dbeentoenoughfanconventionswithGeorgetoknowhowhot

cosplaywas.I’dalwaysthoughtitwouldbefuntodressup,butIneverhad,probablybecauseofmy
insecurities.AndIknewGeorgewasright.WomenlikeVioletteThreatt(orwhateverherrealnamewas)
madealivingoffofit.ButIwasprettysureitwasn’tanyeasiertobeatopcosplaymodelthanitwasto
bearichrockstar.Itwasn’tarealoption.Ineededasteadypaycheck.

Isaid,“Let’stablethecosplaydiscussionfornow.Howareyoudoing?Wehaven’ttalkedinaweek.”

Iwantedtoreturnourconversationtosomethingvaguelynormal,somethingthatwouldgroundme,notput
myheadbackintheclouds.Ineededabreakfromtheclouds.

“Alotbetterthanyou,”hesnorted.“Whatareyougonnadoaboutyourjob?”
“Lookforanewone,Iguess.I’mgoingtobelateonrentifIdon’tfindsomethingquick.”
“Maybeyoushouldtrystripping.Theymakeatonofmoney.Alotmorethananightmanagerata95

CentStore.”

“Uhhhh…No.Ican’tbeastripper.”
“Whynot?”
“First,becauseIdon’tknowhowtodance.Second,becauseit’sjustnotme.”
“Itcouldbeyou.”
“Areyoutryingtopimpmeout,George?”
Helaughed.“No.I’mjusttryingtohelpyouthinkofoptions.Imean,ifthisisreallyyou,”hegestured

atme,“Imeanreallyreallyyou,youdon’tlooklikeyourIDanymore,right?”

“You’reright,”Isighed.
“Soyouneedajobthatpaysunderthetable.Strippingisallcash,right?”
“Idon’tknow.Doyou?Oristhatsomethingyoureadontheinternet?”
“I’mprettysuretheyworkfortips.AndI’mguessingstrippersdon’tneedbackgroundchecks.”
“Theyneedass-groundchecks,”Ismirked.
“Andboob-groundchecks,”hegrinned.“Sogobeastripper.You’restrippernamecanbeSailor.”He

winked.

Ielbowedhisarm.“No,George.”
“HowaboutMoon?”
“That’sworse!”Iscowled.
“Barbie?Thatactuallysoundslikeastrippername.”
“Ihateyou,George.Ihopeyouwakeuponemorninglookinglikeasupermodel.No!Iknow!Inan

alternateuniversewherevideogamesandcartoonsdon’texist!Howwouldyoulikethat,George?Huh?
Doesn’tsoundlikefun,doesit?”

Hesmiledatmeandsearchedmyface,“YoureallyareJ-Chan,aren’tyou?”ChanwasaJapanese

honorificusedforbestfriends.Georgedidn’tcallmeJ-Chanoften.Ithinkitwashiswayofsayinghe
lovedme.Orlikedme.Orwhatever.Whateverhemeant,itwasascloseashegottoexpressingaffection
towardme.Fromhim,now,itmeantalot.

“Yes,George.It’sme.”Isighed.Itfeltsogoodtohavehimbelieveme.“Promisemeonething,

George.”

“Sure?”
“Don’ttellanybodyaboutthis.Imean,nobody.Idon’twantanyonefindingout.Thisisbiggerthanthe

LoveJug.”

“Yeahitis.”
“Canyoukeepthisasecret?”
“Totally.YouknowI’vegotyourback.”
“Please,George.You’vegottapromise.”Isqueezedhiswrist.
Henodded.“Okay,okay.Ipromise.”
“Promise?”
“Doyouneedmetotakeabloodoath?”
Ilookedathimforalongtime.
Hesaid,“Youcancountonme,J-Chan.”
“Allright,G-Chan.Ibelieveyou.”ButIprayedhewouldstaygoodtohisword.
IftherewasonethingI’dlearnedgrowingupasalittlenerdgirl,itwasthatIhatedbeingsingledout

forbeingdifferent.Ididn’twanttobeanoveltyorasideshowcircusfreak.AllIcouldthinkaboutwas
theabnormalamountofattentionbeautifulpeopleandcelebritiesalreadygot.Imaginehowbaditwould
beforsomeonewhohadtransformedfromplaintobeautifulinfiveshortdays?Themediascrutinywould
beunprecedented.Forallintentsandpurposes,Iwasawalkingmiracle.Everyonewouldwanttoknow
mysecret,whichIwouldn’tbeabletotellthem.Amagicalringseemedtheleastlikelyexplanation.
MaybeIwassomegeneticabnormality.Whateverthecause,ifwordgotout,I’dbealloverCNNand
TMZandeveryothernewsoutletontheplanet.Scientistswouldwanttodoexperimentsonme.
Opportunistswouldwanttoexploitme.

Ididn’twantanyofthat.
Ipreferredtoremaininthebackgroundandlivemylifelikeanormalperson.
ThelastthingIwantedwaspeoplepayinganymoreattentiontomethantheyalreadydid.Thatmeant

avoidingjobslikecosplaymodelingandstripping.

Ineededtofindaregularjobandkeepmyheaddown.

Chapter15

Thenextmorning,Iwalkedoutmyfrontdoorafterbreakfastandashower.WhileIwaslockingthe

deadbolt,Brodie’sdooropenedandhestuckhisheadout.

“Hey,Chelsea,”hedrawled.
Ididn’tevenlookathim.“Fixmyfrontdoor,Brodie.”Likehe’ddonetomethefirstdaywe’dmet,I

turnedandwalkedawaywithoutlookingback,butIwaskindenoughnottofliphimoffdismissively.

WashestaringatmyassasIwalked?
Ididn’tturntocheck.
Buttheheatonmybacksidetoldmehewas.
Whatever.
AfterIdroveoff,IspentallofSaturdayjobhunting.
TherehadtobesomebodyintownotherthanastripjointwhowouldhiremewithoutcheckingmyID.

Theonlyquestionwas,ifsomeonedidhireme,wouldtheyaskformyIDwhenIfilledoutmyW-4,
emergencycontactinfo,healthinsurance,etc.?Someplaceswouldn’tofferhealthinsurance,butwhat
abouttheotherforms?

I’dcrossthatbridgewhenIcametoit,andifIhadto,I’dkeepcrossingdifferentbridgesuntilIfound

onewithoutagatekeeperorwhatever.

Inthemeantime,Ineededtofindsomebodywhowasactuallyhiring.Thismorningwhileeating

breakfast,Ihadstartedanonlinejobsearch,butIquicklyrealizedIneededtocreateanewemailanda
fakeonlinepresencefirst.HotJaneJohnsondidn’thaveaFacebookpageorInstagramoranykindof
socialmedia.Shedidn’tevenhaveemailoraLinkedInpage.Ididn’twantapotentialemployerdoinga
searchandcomingupwithnothing.Thatwouldraisemorequestions.Ineededtolandajobfacetoface
withahandshake.Notonline.

Didthatevenhappenanymore?
Iwasabouttofindout.
Inpreparation,IdiddoctorupthestackofrésumésIcarriedinmypurse.Myjobforthepastfive

yearshadbeenatthe95CentStore.TheyhadstoresalloverLA.Everybodyknewthe95CentStorewith
itsWalmartripoffblueawninganduniformsanddecor.SoIchangedmyrésumétosayI’dworkedat
DollarTreeinstead.Theyhadstoresalloverthecountry,butIdidn’tsaywhichoneonmyrésumé.The
lastthingIwantedwasapotentialemployercallingtheDollarTreedowntheroadinCulverCityor
MarinaDelReyonlytofindoutI’dneverworkedthere.Ifsomeonedidaskmewhichoneduringan
interview,I’dsayitwastheDollarTreeinOrangePark,FloridaorLittleRock,Arkansas,orBumfrack,
Iowa,andhopetheydidn’tknowanythingoranyoneinFloridaorArkansasorIowa.Nobodywould
bothertocallIowa,right?

Fingerscrossed.
IstartedoutattheThirdStreetPromenade,anoutdoormallnearthebeachinSantaMonica.Itwas

alsorightnexttoSantaMonicaPlace,anindoormall.I’dhitituplater.Betweenthetwo,therewere
probablyahundredshopsandrestaurantstochoosefrom.Atleastoneofthemhadtobehiring,right?

Ispenthoursgoingfromshoptoshop.
Itwasgruelingwork.
First,nobodywashiring.Second,Iwasstartingtonoticeatrend.
EverysinglemalemanagerItalkedtowasveryfriendlyandwantedtohiremeonthespot,butnoneof

themhadanyjobopenings.Atfirst,Ithoughttheywerebeingnice.ButeventuallyIrealizedmostofthem
werejustflirting.Theydidn’twanttogivemeajob.Theyjustwantedinmypants.

Withthefemalemanagers,Isensedanundercurrentofcattiness.Iknewcattybehavior,whenIsawit,

butI’dneverseensodamnmuchofitdirectedatme.AtleastIdidn’thavetowastetimebeingflirted
with.Well,onewomanwasgayandshedefinitelyflirted,butmorecautiouslythananyofthemen.Ithink
shewasn’tsurewhetherIwasgayorstraight,soshedidn’tpushit.

Severalhourslater,Iwasexhausted.Whatahassle.Ididn’thaveajobbutIdidhavefiveapplications

Ididn’twant.SeveralmalemanagersinsistedItakeoneandmademepromisetofillitoutandsubmitit
sotheycouldkeepitonfile.Onfile.Pfft.Yeah,right.Iwasn’tstupid.Theyjustwantedmyphonenumber.
Ithrewtheapplicationsinthetrash.LikeIsaid,Ineededtogetajobwithahandshake.Maybethe
Promenadewasthewrongplacetolook.

Afterallthewalkingandtalking,Ineededabreakandsomefood.Iboughtasliceofcheesepizzaat

Stefano’sandsatdownonabenchoutside,rightinfrontoftheAbercrombie&Fitchstore.Sinceitwas
Saturday,theentirePromenadewaspackedwithpeoplegoinginandoutoftheshops,andstreet
performerstryingtomakeabuckfromthebrowsingcrowds.

Inibbledonmypizzawhilewatchingastreetmagiciandotricksinfrontofaboutahundredpeople.
“How’syourpizza?”
Ilookedupintothefaceofsomerandomguyhoveringoverme.“Uh…justfine.Thanks.”
“Looksreallygood,”hesaid.Thisguywasreasonablyattractiveandworeastylishleatherjacket.

HadhewalkeduptomeaweekagowhenIwasplainJane,Iwould’vebeenshockedhewantedtotalkto
nerdylittleme.Butafterallthemenwho’dbuggedmetoday,Iwasoverit.

“Yeah,”Imuttered,takinganotherbite.
“CanIaskwhereyougotit?”
Ididn’twanttoberude.“Stefano’s.It’saroundthecorner.”
“Whichcorner?”Helookedaroundlikehewasreallyinterested.
Pleasegoaway.“Thatway.”
Henodded.“Gotit.Hey,ifyouwantanotherslice,I’llbuyoneforyou.Youwannacomewith?”
Ismiledpolitely,“Nothanks.”
“Yousure?”
Pleasetakethehintandleave.“Yeah,thanks.”
Heshrugged.“Whatever.”Hesoundeddisgruntled,buthewalkedaway.
Iwould’vethankedhimforleaving,butIdidn’twanttoencouragehim.Thatwastheotherthingabout

today.Randomguyslikehimwereconstantlystoppingmeforthelamestofreasons.AtfirstIwas
flattered.Itdidn’ttakelongbeforeIwasannoyed.ButIremainedpoliteandtriedtokeepthe
conversationsshort.Sadly,itgottoapointwhereIwasspendingmoretimebeingpolitetorandommen
thanIwasjobhunting.SoIstartedignoringthem.Ifeltlikearudebitch,butIneededtofindajob.

NowIknewwhyChelseatendedtopreferstayingin.
Mencouldbepests.
Mybigplantokeepalowprofileandgounnoticedwasbackfiringmagnificently.MaybeIneededto

startwearingabighatandbigsunglassesandascarfsoIwouldbelessconspicuous.Asitwas,Iwasn’t
wearinganymakeup,butitdidn’tmakeadifference.Thenewmewasamanmagnet.MaybeIneededto
shavemyheadandgetafullfacialtattoo.I’dprobablygetlessattentionthatway.

Itookthelastbiteofmypizza.
“Forthisnexttrick,”thestreetmagiciansaidoverhismicrophone(itwasattachedtoacoupleof

portablePAspeakersonstands),“Ineedavolunteer.”

Iwasn’tlistening.Havingfinishedmypizza,Iblottedmylipswithmynapkin,stood,anddroppedit

andmypaperplateinthenearesttrashcan.

“Yes,you!Miss!Overhere!”Themagicianwavedandcaughtmyeye.Hepointedatmeandmadehis

waythroughthespectatorswatchinghisshow.Hehookedafingeratme.“Comeonover,miss!”

“Me?”Itouchedmyfingerstomychest.“Ican’t.I’mlateforanappointment.”Itappedmywristand

shookmyhead.

“Comeon,”hewavedmeover.“You’vegottwominutestohelpmewithmymagictrick.Let’shearit

forthisniceyounglady!”

Theexcitedcrowdstartedclappingandholleringatme.
Great.Irolledmyeyes.Ididn’twanttolooklikeabitch.Ireluctantlywalkedovertojoinhim.So

muchforfadingintothebackground.Let’sjustgetthisoverwith.

“Givetheyoungladyahand,everybody!”Themagiciangrabbedmywristandpulledmeintohisstage

areaonthestreet.Hewascuteandaboutmyage.IfIwashim,Iwould’vepickedmeoutofthecrowdfor
sure.Greatscamformeetingwomen.

Isnickeredtomyselfwhilethecrowdapplauded.
“What?”hesaidquietly,coveringthemicrophoneonhiscollarwithhishand.
“Nothing.”WhatIwasthinkingwas:I’vebeenbeautifullessthantwenty-fourhoursandI’malready

sickofit.Sinceyou’reamagician,maybeyoucanchangemebacktonormal?

Hewasabouttoturntothecrowd,soItappedhimontheshoulder.
“Yeah?”
Imutteredinhisear,“Hey,doyouthinkyoucouldmakemeshorter?”
“Huh?”
“And,Idon’tknow,givemebadhairandsomeglasses?”
Hefrowned,“Whywouldyouwantmetodothat?”
“Nevermind.”Ishookmyheadandmyblondestraighthairwavedgentlyaroundmyshoulders.It

neverdidthatbefore.Anyway,askingthisguytochangemebackwasstupid.Iknewmagiciansjustdid
tricks.Itwasallsleightofhandandmisdirectionandspecialprops.Theyweren’treallymagical.Oh
well.

“Okay,everybody,”themagiciansaidtothecrowd,hismicrophoneamplifyinghiswordsthroughthe

PA.“Howwouldyouliketoseemereadthisyoungwoman’smind?”

Somegrungywomaninthecrowdyelledout,“Goodluckwiththat!Everybodyknowsblondeslikeher

arebrainlessbimbos!Nothingtoread!”

Everybodyheardher.Iscowled.Afewpeoplelaughedbutafewothersbooed.Werepeoplereally

thisrude?Yestheywere.

Themagiciansaid,“Idoubtshe’sbrainless.”Hewastryingtomakemefeelbetter.“Orabimbo.”
Igrinnedandsaidloudly,“No.Thatwomanwasright.I’dhavetobeanidiottocomeuphereand

makeafoolofmyselfinfrontofeverybodyforfree.Maybeyououghtasplityourtipswithme.”Ismiled
atthemagicianandnoddedtowardtheblacksilktophatthatsatonthegroundnearthefrontofhisstage
area.Abunchofones,fives,tens,andafewtwentiessproutedoutthetop.Tomeitlookedlikerent
money.Icoulddefinitelymakeuseofallthatcash.

Scatteredapplausefromafewpeople.Someguyshouted,“Sheain’tdumb!Givehersomemoney!”
Moreapplausefromthecrowdandafewwhistles.
Themagiciansaid,“Okay.Howaboutthis?Youthinkofacard.Anycardfromanormaldeckofcards,

andI’lltryandguesswhichone.IfIcan’tguesswhatcardyou’rethinkingof,I’llgiveyouallthemoney
inthattophat.”Helookedatthecrowd.“Huh?Whaddyasay,people?Doesthatsoundlikeafairbet?”

Morecheeringandagreement.
“Wait,wait,wait,”Isaid.“That’snotfair.Weallknowthisisjustatrickandyoucan’tactuallyread

minds.Wealsoknowyou’reagoodmagicianbecauseyouhaveabigcrowd.Thatmeansyouhavesome
wayoftrickingmeintopickingacertaincardsoyoucanguessrightandlookallmagical.Otherwise,

you’dlooklikeanidiotandwouldn’tbeouthereinthefirstplace.Sothesafebetformeisthatyouwill,
quote,readmymind,andyouwillguesswhichcardIpicked.Inotherwords,ifyouguessright,Ishould
getpaid.Notyou.”

Thecrowdwassilent.IthinktheywereasconfusedasIwas,butIwasprettysureI’dsaiditright.
Themagicianstaredatme,alsotryingtosortoutwhatI’dsaid.
Someguyyelledout,“Whatshesaid!”
Afewpeopleclappedandlaughed.
“Okay,”themagiciansaid,“letmegetthisstraight.IfIguesswhichcardyoupicked,youdon’tgetthe

money,right?”

“Don’tgetthemoney?”Ishookmyheadandgiggled.“Nonono!You’retwistingmywords.Isaid,if

youguesswhichcardIpick,Igetpaid!Me!Notyou!Igetthemoneyifyou’reright!Gotit?”

Hewobbledhisheadandstaredrightinmyeyes.Hewastryingtoconfusemeagain.
IgrabbedhiscollarandspokeintohismicrophonesomywordswentoutoverthePA.“Letmemake

thissimpleforyou.Ifyouguessright,Igetthemoneyinyourtophat.Ifyouguesswrong,yougetthe
money.”Ismiledathim.“Yourreputationisontheline,Mr.Magician.Youjusthavetodecideifit’s
worthallthemoneyinyourtophatornot.”

Nowthewholecrowdwasclappingandcheering.
Themagiciansaid,“Howaboutthis?Igetitright,wesplitthemoney.Igetitwrong,yougetallofit.

Deal?”Heheldouthishand.

“Mmmm.Okay.Deal.”Ishookit.
“Allright,let’sgetthisshowontheroad!”Themagicianwalkedovertoalittletablenearthesideof

hisstageareaandgrabbedsomething.“Miss…”Hewalkedbackuptomeandputhisarmaroundme.
“What’syourname,miss?”

“Ch-Chelsea.”I’dbeentellingpeopleIwasChelseaallday.Noreasontochangethingsnow.
“Chelsea.Gotit.Lovely,Chelsea.Lovely.Now,Iwantyoutothinkofacardyouwouldfindina

normaldeckofcards.”Hemadealltheserhythmichandgesturesashesaidit.“AnyNUMBER,”more
handgestures,“oranyoftheTHREEfacecards.”

“Okay.”
“LOVELY.Yougotitinyourmind?”Henoddedatmethreetimes.
“Yeah.”
“Lovely.Nowthinkofanysuit.HEARTS,diamonds,clubs…”
“Okay.”
“Thinkrealhaaard.”
“Thinking,”Ismiled.
“Yougotit?Number,face,suit?”Ashesaidit,thefingersofhislefthandflickedout,flick,flick,flick.
“Yeah.”
HehandedmeascrapofpaperandablackSharpiepen.“Lovely.Now,IwantyoutodoTHREE

things.Canyoudothatforme,love?”

“Sure.”Inodded.
“TurnaroundsoIcan’tseeyou,writedownthecardyou’rethinkingofonthatpaper.AndTHREE,

showittothecrowdsoIcan’tseeit.SoIcan’tseeit.”

“Okay.”Iturnedaroundanddidwhatheasked.Withoutthinking,Iwrotedownthethreeofhearts.“Do

Ishowittothecrowd?”

“Please.ButmakesureIcan’tseeit.Sodon’tturnaround.Gotit?”
“Yeah.”
Hewavedastoppinghandatthecrowdandshookhisheadatthem,“Please,keepthecardtoyourself.

DoNOTsayitoutloud.”

IcappedtheSharpieandhandedittohim.ThenIheldupthepaperwithbothhandscarefully,soonlya

fewpeopleinfrontofmecouldseeit.

Numerouspeopleleanedovertogetagoodlook.Iwalkedfromsidetosidesoatleasttwodozenof

themsawit.Rightatthatmoment,Iglancedpastthecrowdandintotheeyesofatallmanwhoslowed
downtowatchthemagicshow.

Thestranger’seyeslockedrightonmine.
Inresponse,mychestlockeduptight.
ItwasWes.Fromthemansion.WesleyCallaway.Iwillrememberyoureyesforever.ThatWes.I

nearlycollapsedseeinghimherenow.Aftersayinggoodbyetohimtheotherday,IwasconvincedI’d
neverseehimagain.

Yetherehewas,standingtwentyfeetbehindthegatheredcrowdwhilemorepeoplepassedbackand

forthinfrontofhim.Maybethestagemagicianreallywasmagical.He’dsummonedmydreammanoutof
thinair.

Wesstaredrightatme.Heworeawhitelinenshirtwiththesleevesrolleduptotheelbows,oblivious

tothehundredsofpeopleonthePromenade.

Forasecond,itseemedlikethewholeworlddisappearedanditwasjustmeandWesstandinghere

staringateachother.

AllIwantedtodowasrunandgrabhimandtalktohim.IhadnoideawhatI’dsay,butIwantedto

talktohim.Badly.ToobadIwasstuckinthemiddleofthisstupidmagictrick.CouldIleave?CouldI
crawloverthecrowdstandingbetweenmeandWesandgotohim?No,thereweretoomanypeople.I’d
havetosteponbabiesandyoungchildrentogettoWes.Icouldgoaroundthecrowd,butwhatifWes
suddenlyleft?ThereweresomanypeoplehereonthePromenade,Icouldeasilylosehim.

Myhandsstartedtoshake.
Themagiciansaid,“Haveyoupeopleinthefrontrowseenwhatshewrotedown?Don’tsayitifyou

have.Justsayyes.”Abunchofyesesandyeahsfromthepeopleinfrontofme.“NowChelsea,Iwantyou
tocarefullyfoldthepaperupsoIcan’tseewhat’swrittenonit.Canyoudothat?”

Iwasafraidtoturnaround.Ididn’twanttolosesightofWes,soIfoldedupthepaperwhilekeeping

myeyesonhim.“Yuh-yeah.”

Themagicianrattledaroundbehindme.Hesaid,“Okay,asyouallcansee,Ihaveafreshunopened

packofpristineplayingcards.”

Ididn’tturntolook.
“Chelsea?Canyouturnaroundforme,sweetheart?”
“No!”Iblurted.Someofthecrowdstartedlaughing.ThelastthingIcaredaboutwasthisstupidmagic

trick.Iwanteditoverwith.Icouldn’tevenrememberwhatcardI’dwrittendown.IjuststaredatWes.

Themagicianchuckled.“Okay.ThenI’llcometoyou.”Hewalkedupbesidemeandheldoutthepack

ofcards.

Ididn’tevenlook.
Henudgeditagainstmyarm.“Chelsea?Canyouopenthepackofcards?”
“Shuh-sure.”IwasstillwatchingWes.
Hewasstillwatchingme.
“Canyouturnandfaceme?”Themagicianasked.
“Yeah,whatever.”IturnedmybodybutkeptmyeyespinnedonWes.
“Canyoupleaseunwrapthecards?”
WithoutlookingatwhatIwasdoing,Ishovedthewaddedupslipofpaperintomypurseanddugmy

fingernailsintotheplasticshrinkwrapandpeeleditoff.IlookedawayfromWesforasplitsecond.
WhenIturnedback,Weswasgone.

Ohno!

Oh,wait.Itwasjustanillusion.SomanypeoplewerewalkingbetweenmeandWes,itmadeitseem

likehe’dgone.Buthewasstillthere.Myheartratesloweddowntoamere180BPM.Yes,Iwasthat
nervous.IdesperatelyneededtotalktoWesonelasttimebeforehedisappearedforever.Iwasn’tsure
why,butitwasimportant.Closure,maybe.Ididn’tknow.

“Doyouhavethepackopen?”Themagicianasked.
Iabsentlystuffedtheballedupshrinkwrapintomypursewiththeslipofpaper.“Yeah,yeah.”
“Okay,nowIwantyoutolookthroughthedeckandfindyourcard.”
“Huh?”AllIcouldthinkatthatmomentwas,WesWesWes.
(lovelovelove)
“Pleaseturnaroundsoyou’renotfacingmeandlookthroughthedeckuntilyoufindyourcard,but

don’ttellmewhenyoufindit.”

ThelastthingIwantedtodowasbusymyselfsearchingthroughadeckofcards.Wescouldgetaway!

Besides,Icouldn’tevenrememberwhichcardIwrotedown.Iwasoverthisstupidcardtrick.“Sorry.I
havetogo.”Ihandedhimthedeckandpushedthroughthecrowdwithoutlookingback.

“Wait!Iwasgonnagiveyouhalfmytophatmoney!ButIneedthatpaperyouwroteontofinishthe

trick!Chelsea!Comeback!”

IjoggedthroughthethrongofpeoplewalkingbackandforthbetweenmeandWes.ButIcouldn’tsee

himanywhere!I’dbeendistractedbythatstupidmagicianandhisstupidcardtrick!Thatjerkhadbeenso
busymisdirectingme,he’djustmadeWesdisappear!

Asshat!
IrantowhereWeshadbeenstandingandspunincircles,tryingtopickhimoutofhundredsofpeople.

Panicsetin,everycellinmybodytinglingindisbelief.

He’dbeenrighthere!
RightwhereIwasstanding!
Iballedmyfistsinfrustration,mynailsdiggingintomypalms.“No,no,no!”Outofthecornerofmy

eyeIsawaflashofwhite.Itwistedaroundbutitwasjustawomaninawhiteblouse.

“Shit!”
Ispunagainandanotherflashofwhitedisappearedaroundabuilding.Iranafterit,convinceditwas

Wes.WhenIturnedthecorner,allIsawwasmorepeople.ButithadtohavebeenWes!Stillrunning,I
pushedmywaythroughthecrowdonthesidewalk,bumpingpeopleaside.Someyelledatme,others
cursed.

“Sorry!I’mreallysorry!”
IhadtofindWes!
WhenIreachedthenextblock,Islowedtoastopandswiveledmyheadfromsidetoside.
Wherewashe?!
There!GoingintooneoftheparkinggaragesonSecondStreet.Ichasedafter.JustasIturnedintothe

garage,anelevatordoorstartedtoclose.Someonewasinside!

Wes!
“Wait!”IranupandpoundedtheUPbuttonrepeatedly.
Butitwastoolate.
ThedoorshadclosedandWeswasgone.
Again.
Iheavedasigh.
Damnit!
Ijustmissedhim!
“Areyoustalkingme,Sunflower?”
Ispunaroundtofacetheownerofthatfamiliarandimposingbaritone.

Chapter16

Wesleanedcasuallyagainstarectangularcementcolumn,watchingme.
Hestoodwithhishandsinpockets,lookingcovermodelhandsome.Hisfittedlinenshirtrevealeda

bodyevenmoredeliciousthanI’dimagined.Broadshoulders,widehardpecspullingagainsttheslightly
transparentwhitematerial.Hisabswerehiddenbuthisstomachwasobviouslywashboardflat.The
rolled-upcuffsrevealedsmoothtanforearmswithacriss-crossofveinsplayingoverchiseledmuscles.A
chunkygoldbracelethungfromonewrist.Histightslackstoldmethebraceletwasn’ttheonlythingabout
himthathungwell.Rippledfoldsslightlytentedasizablepackage.

Ifoldedmyarmsacrossmychestandshiftedmyweighttoonehip.“Stalking?Whatmakesyouthink

I’mstalkinganybody?”

“Iheardyourflatsslappingthesidewalk.Soundedlikerunningtome.”
“MaybeI’mlateforanappointment.”
Hesmirked,“Thenwhyareyoustillstandingheretalkingtome?”
“BecauseI’mtryingtofigureoutwhyyouarestalkingme.”
“Ha!Followingmearoundonecornerisacoincidence.Followingmearoundthreeisstalking.You’re

stalkingme,Sunflower.”

“Me?!”Ihuffed.“Youweretheonestaringatmeduringthemagicshow!”
“Oh,that’sright,”henoddedthoughtfullybuthisvoicedrippedwithsarcasm.“Meandahundredother

peoplewerewatchingyouandastreetmagiciandoingacardtrick.Verycreepy.Allthosepervsdyingto
findoutwhatcardyoupicked.Scandalous.Weshouldallbelockedup.AndIfeelterribleforthat
magician.Heprobablyhateshavingpeoplestareathimasmuchasyoudo.”

“Idon’tlikehavingpeoplestareatme,”Igrumbled.
“So,what,youfollowedmesoyoucouldgivemeabeatingforlookingatyou?TeachmealessonI’ll

neverforget?”Hewassmilingnow.“Youhavethinskin,Sunflower.”

“StopcallingmeSunflower,”Igiggled.HecouldcallmeSunflowerfromnowuntilforever.
Hiseyesflashedandadimplecurledbeneathhischeek.“IcancallyouanythingIwant,Sunflower.

SinceIdon’tknowyourname,I’mgoingtokeepcallingyouSunflower.”

That’sright.Wesdidn’tknowIwasJane.ThatmeantIcouldhavefunwithhim.Ismirked,“Okay,Oak

Tree.Tellmewhyyouwerestaringatme?”

Hechuckledandmuttered,“OakTree.”
“Youweren’twatchingthemagicshow.Youwerewatchingme,Mr.OakTree.I’mnotblind.”
“WhatcanIsay?You’remoreinterestingthanthemagician.”Hesaiditsocasuallyitcouldalmostbe

interpretedasaninsult.

“Gee,thanks.”
Hesnickered.
“Areyouenjoyingthis?”Ichallenged.
“What’snottoenjoy?”
“You’reinsufferable,youknowthat?”
Hissmiledwidened.Damnit,hewasgorgeous.“SoI’vebeentold.CanIaskyousomething,

Sunflower?”

Anything.Irolledmyeyes,“What?”
“Aren’tyoulateforyourappointment?”Hestifledalaugh.

“Shutup,OakTree!”
“Stalker.”
IreachedintomypurseandgrabbedthefirstthingIfoundandthrewitatWes.“Ass.”Acrumpledup

pieceofpaperbouncedoffhischest.

“Andalitterertoo.Tsk,tsk,Sunflower.Ishouldplaceyouundercitizen’sarrestandhaulyouoffto

jail.”

IheldupmywristslikeIwasreadytobehandcuffed.“Oh,please.Wouldyou?BeforeIcommitsome

heinouscrimeagainsthumanity?”

“I’llletyouoffeasy.Ifyoupickupyourtrash.”Hetoedthecrumpledpaperwithhisdressshoe.
“Youpickitup.”
“One.Two.Three…”
“Areyoucounting,Dad?”
“I’mnotyourdad.”Therewasasinfulflashinhiseyes.“Four.Five…”
“Itusuallystopsatthree.Acountofthree.”
“Six.Seven…”
“DoIhaveuntilten?”
“Eight.Nine…”
“Whathappensifyouhitten?”
“Doyoureallywanttofindoutthehardway,Sunflower?”
“MaybeIdo,OakTree.”
“YouknowwhatIloveaboutoaktrees?”
“What’sthat?”Isneered.
“They’resodamnthick,fromtiptoroot…”
Ilaughed.He’dsaiditsosexuallyIcouldn’thelpmyself.“Iknewyouwereaperv!Andastalker!”
“Makeupyourmind.Andwouldyoupickupyourtrashalready,youdirtylitterer?”Hiswords

drippedwithsexualinnuendoonceagain.Hetoedthecrumpledpaperanditwobbledslightly.

Ireallydidhatelitteringandneverdiditmyself.“Fine.”Iwalkedtowardhimandbenttopickitup,

butstoppedwhenIrealizedthatifIbentanylower,orsquatteddown,hiscrotchwouldbeinmyface.
Therewasnowayaroundit.Ihesitated.

“Areyougonnapickitupornot?”
“You’dlikethat,wouldn’tyou?”
Hegrinnedasyrupygrin.“I’malreadylikingitquiteabit.”
Istoleaglanceathiscrotch.Washegettinghard?Iwasn’tgoingtolooklongenoughtomakesure.
“Likewhatyousee?”
“No.”Itwasalie.
Hechuckled,“Who’sthepervnow,Sunflower?”
“Youwish,”Isnorted,standingbackuptomyfullheight.Damn,hewasreallytall.Eveninmynew

5’9”body,hewasmuchtallerthanme.

“Pickitup,”hecommanded.
“No.Youpickitup.”
“Iwasn’ttheonewhothrewit.”
Iscowled,“ThenbackupsoIcanpickitup.”
“You’vegotplentyofroom.”
Ijammedahandonmyhip.“Doyoulikehumiliatingwomen?”
“Nope.Justlitterers.”Hewinkedandsmiled.Whydidthestubbleonhisperfectjawlinehavetobeso

damnsexy?

“Okay,okay!MoveandI’llpickitup.”

“Mypleasure.”Hekickeditanditrolledbehindme.
“That’snotwhatImeant!”
“Youdidn’tspecify.”
“Doyouhavemorethanzerofriends?Oranypeoplewhodon’thateyou?”
“Neverreallythoughtaboutit.Pickupyourtrash,Sunflower.”
Iturnedtogetit,thenIrealizedI’dbeshowinghimmyassifIbentover.SoIbackedupandstartedto

squat,buthewasstaringrightatmycleavage.SoItwistedmyshouldertothesideandgrowled,“Getting
agoodview?”

“NotasgoodasI’dlike.”
Iswipedthepaperoffthegroundandstuffeditinmypurse.
“Somuchbetter.AndnowIthinkit’stimeforyoutogettoyourappointment.”
“Youareacompletelydiseaseddick,aren’tyou?”Iwasnowfurious.
Helaughedhappily.“No.Notatall,Sunflower.Ievenhavethepaperstoproveit.”
“StopcallingmeSunflower!”
“TellmeyournameandI’llcallyouthat.”
“No!”
“Sunfloweritis.”Hesmiledasmarmysmilethatwasfrustratinglysexy.
“Seriously,doesthisapproachworkwithwomen?”
“Youtellme,”hechuckled.
Myeyesflaredwithanger.“Youknowwhat?Ihavetogo!”
“Toyourappointment?”Hestifledalaugh.
“Yes!”
“Bettergetmoving.You’vebeenstandinghereallday.”Hestillleanedagainstthecementcolumnlike

hewasgoingtostandtheregloatinguntilIleft.Thisguywasinfuriating.

AllhehadtodowasbetheslightestbitpoliteandI’dbehappytostandandchatwithhim,butafter

thewayhe’dbeentreatingme,Icouldn’tcontinuetalkingtohimingoodconscience.Thisguyhadthe
maturityofafourteenyearold.Iwouldn’tencouragebehaviorlikehisbyrewardinghimwithmyname.
I’dbeadisappointmenttomyselfandallofwomankind.Iturnedtogo.“Haveanicelife,PineNeedle!”

Helaughed.“Hey,Sunflower!”
Istoppedbutkeptmybacktohim.“What?!”
Rightatthatmoment,twoyoungwomenturnedintotheparkinggarage.Theywerechattingand

gigglingwitheachotherastheywalkedpastmeandhitthebuttonfortheelevator.Theywereboth
dressedtogetattentionfrommen:tightskirts,lowcuttops,andsluttyhighheels.Ittookamoment,butthe
twoofthemslowlynoticedWes.Oncetheydid,theycouldn’tkeeptheireyesoffhim.

Thebrunettewiththesaloncurlssmiledatmebriefly.
Ismirkedback.
ThebuiltblondewiththeKateUptonhairandboobsmutteredtoherfriend,“What’sthatguydoing?”
SalonCurlssaid,“Helookslikeastalker.”
“He’stoocutetobeastalker.”
Thebrunettegiggled,obviouslycheckingoutWes.
Ishookmyhead,scowling.I’msurethesebim-hosweremoreWes’speedthanIwas.Theycouldhave

him.

TheKateUptonblondetwirledalockofherhairextensionswithherfingerandsaidtomequietly,

“Areyouwiththatguy?”

“Pfft,”Iansweredandshookmyhead.“He’sallyours.”
HereyesdidadevilishdanceasshetookWesin.Shebitherplumpcherryglossedlowerlipand

flashedhimalookthatsaid,Yourplaceormine?Thenherbrowsfurrowedwithuncertaintyandshesaid

tome,“Areyousure?”

“Helpyourself.Really.He’sallyours.”
Herfriendwasasconfusedasshewas,glancingbetweenmeandWes.
Theelevatordingedandthedoorsopened.Thetwobim-hoswalkedinsidesomewhatreluctantly.I

walkedintotheelevatorwithoutlookingback.

“Istilldidn’tcatchyourname,”Wessaidbehindme.
Ididn’twanttoturnaroundtofacehim,butIcouldn’tstandintheelevatorfacingthetwobim-hos.It

wouldbeweird.SoIturnedfacingoutandlookedeverywhereexceptatWes.Tohiscredit,henevertook
hiseyesoffme.

Theelevatordoorscouldcloseanytimetheywantedto.
“Yourname,Sunflower.”Wes’intensestarewasmakingmesquirm.
Tomyannoyance,theblondewiththeKateUptonhairwasholdingtheDOOROPENbutton.Shesaid

tome,“Ithinkhe’stalkingtoyou.”

“No,Ithinkhe’stalkingtoyou.”
UptonHairfrowned,thensmiledatWes,archinghereyebrowstosaytohim,You’retalkingtome,

right?

Wessaid,“No,I’mtalkingtotheprettylittlesunflowerstandingnexttoyou.”Hiseyesweregluedto

mine.“Theonewho’spretendingtoignoreme.”

UptonHairfinallysmirkedandsaidquietlyenoughthatWescouldn’thear,“He’syourboyfriend,

right?Andyouguysarehavingafight,right?”ThethrillIfeltthatawomanasattractiveasherwould
makethatassumptionwasextremelyannoying.ShestillheldtheDOOROPENbuttonandWesstillstared
atme.

Igrumbled,“He’snotmyboyfriend.We’renothavingafight.”
Thebrunettewiththesaloncurlssnickered,“Ibetmakeupsexwithhimisthebestever.”
“He’snotmyboyfriend,”Igrowled.
Wesheardthat.“Whatshesaid,Sunflower.Makeupsex.Youbentoverthebedbeggingformore,me

pullingyourhairasIfuckyousenselessfrombehinduntilyoucomesohardyoucan’tstandup.”

Thetwobim-hostittered,droolingoverWes.
Saloncurlsgiggled,“OhmyGod.”
Uptonhairalsogiggled,“You’resuchaluckybitch.”Shewastalkingaboutme.“Ibethehasahuge

cock.”NowshewastalkingaboutWes.

Saloncurlstittered,“Totally.”
Bothofthemwereextremelyannoying.
Wessmiledacockysmileandcockedhiscockyheadtotheside,completelylovingthis.“Likethey

said,Sunflower.Best.Makeupsex.Ever.”HesaiditwithaperfectCaliforniaMeanGirltwang,that
bottomofthevoiceclickythingthatBritneySpearspopularizedyearsagoandthatnowdrovemecrazy
wheneverIheardwomentalkinglikethat.In2016,everybodytalkedlikeapopstar.

SalonCurlsrealizedthatWeswasmockingherexpertlyandshescowledathim.
Hestrugglednottolaugh.“Sorry,ladies.Justhavingfunwithyou.”
SalonCurlscouldn’tdecideifshewantedtosmileandflirtwithWesorhatehim.
Icouldrelate.
UptonHairdecidednowwasagoodtimetotakeherfingerofftheDOOROPENbutton.
Ittookamomentforthedoorstostartclosing,butitwasmorethanenoughtimeformyimpulsesto

takeoverandwalkmerightoutoftheelevator.

Asthedoorsclosedbehindme,Wes’grinwidenedintoafull,unabashedsmile.Heopenedhismouth

tospeak.

Iglaredathim,“Don’t.”

“Don’twhat,Sunflower?”
“Don’tsaywhatIthinkyou’regoingtosay.”
“Iwasjustgoingtoaskyourname.”
“Doyoureallywanttoknow?”
“Yes.Ireallydo.”
“It’s—”Iseriouslyconsiderednottellinghim.“It’sChelsea.”
“That’smyfavoritename,”hesaidwithtotalsincerity.
“Noit’snot.”
“Itisnow.”Heheldouthishandtoshake,theonewiththechunkygoldbracelet.“Wes.Pleasureto

meetyou,Chelsea.”

“I’mnottouchingyou.”Istaredathishand,barelyrestrainingmytotaldisgust.
“Youknowyouwantto—”
Touchhiscock.“NoIdon’t!”
“—shakemyhand.Becauseyou’renotabitch.”
“Iamnotabitch!”
“That’swhatIjustsaid,”hesmirked.
“Noyoudidn’t!Yousaid…wait!Ugh!Wouldyoustop!You’rehurtingmybrain!”Iwasgetting

completelyflustered.Wes’animalmagnetismwasundeniable.Theydidn’tmakemenanymoregorgeous
thanhim.ItwaskillingmethatIwassoattractedtohim.ButthenIrememberedtwothings.One,he’d
basicallyignoredthosetwobim-hos,andtheyweresendingsignalslikecrazy.Two,whenI’dfirstmet
Wes,whenIwasjustplainJane,he’dtreatedmeprettymuchthesameashewasnow.Buthe’dalsobeen
niceandsweetandhe’dmadeahugeimpressiononmethathiscurrentbehaviorcouldn’terase.AndIhad
torespectthefactthathewasn’tsuddenlykissinguptomenowthatIlookedlikeasupermodel.Hewas
actinglikehegenuinelydidn’tcareifIhatedhimorrefusedtospeaktohimeveragain,likehewas
completelyunimpressedwithmylooks.ThatIcouldcompletelyrespect.

Itookadeepbreath.“Wes,ifIshakeyourhand,willyoustopbeingsuchanass?”
Hewinced.“Mmmmm…maybe?”
“Wes!”
“Shakemyhand,Sunflower.IpromiseI’llbenice.”
“Promise?”
“Lifeisfullofrisks,Chelsea.”Hestillheldhishandout.
Stillirritated,Igrabbeditandshookithardbeforethrowingitdown.“Happynow?”
“Almost.”
“Whatdoyoumeanalmost?”
Heslidhishandcasuallyintothepocketofhisslacks.“Whatareyoudoingtomorrownight,

Sunflower?”

“Nothingwithyou,”Igrumbled.
“I’vegotthisthingtomorrowandIsortofneedaplusone.”
“Ha!I’mnotgoingonadatewithyou.”
“Whosaidanythingaboutadate?Ijustneedarmcandy.”
“Armcandy?Wes,areyoureallythisshallow?”
“I’mnot.Butit’sathing.Ican’tshowupaloneandI’dratherbringsomeoneentertaininglikeyou.”
Iscoffed,“Entertaining?”
“Whataboutthisisn’tamusing?”
Isnarledathim.
Hesmiledandshrugged,“Ifyoudon’twannabemyarmcandy,I’vegotplentyofpeopleIcancall.”
“Ifyouhurry,I’msureyoucantakebothofthetwoChickletswhojustgotintheelevator.I’mpretty

suretheyhadbubblegumforbrains.”

Hesmirked,“No.Notthem.Toocommon.Iprefergourmet.”
“Socallanescortservice.”Iscowled,“I’msureyou’reonafirstnamebasiswitheveryescort

serviceintown.”

Hejustsmiled.
“Areyou?”
Hefrowned.“No.DoyouthinkIam?”
“Wes,Idon’tknowwhattothink.SofartheonlythingIknowaboutyouisthatyou…you’re…”I

narrowedmyeyes,tryingtothinkoftheperfectcomeback.“Wes,youareadirtyriddlewrappedinthe
dickholeofamysteryinsidetheassholeofanenigma.”

Hechuckled,“Didyouthinkofthatjustnow,Sunflower?”
“Idid.”
“I’mimpressed.”
“Atleastoneofusis.”
Hechuckledagain.“See?ThisiswhyI’maskingyououtfortomorrow.”
“Ithoughtyousaiditwasn’tadate.”
“Itdoesn’thavetobe.”
“Youjustwanttotormentmeallnight,right?”
“I’llmakeyouadeal.Ifyoucomeasmyplusone,I’lltormentyouallevening.Ifyoucomeasmydate,

I’lljustmakeyoucome.Butnomorethanthreetimes.Wewon’thavetimeformorethanthat.”

“Wes,Idon’t—”Ispunmyheadinacircleandrolledmyeyesandmadethetinymistakeofglancing

athiscrotch.IfIwasn’tmistaken,hewashard.Whichwasfunny,becauseIwas99%sureIwaswet.And
hadbeenforatleastthelastfiveminutes.MybodywaslovingeverysecondofWes’dirtyinnuendosand
arrogantmalebravado.Iwascompletelydisappointedinmyself.Icoughedoutalaugh.“Therewillbeno
comingunderanycircumstances,Wes.”

“Sothat’sayes?”
“Ididn’tagreetoanything.”
“Yet.”
“Wouldyoustop?!”
“Notuntilyousayyes.”
“Fine!”Ithrewmyhandsintheair,completelyexasperated.“I’llgowithyou!Toyourthing!Butno

coming!”

“Deal.”Hepulledhisphoneoutofhispocket.“GivemeyournumberandI’llcallyoutomorrow

morningwithmoredetails.”

Chapter17

AfterleavingWes,IwentbacktothePromenadeandranintoVictoria’sSecrettobuysomenewbras

andpanties.IfIwasgoingoutwithWestomorrownight,Iwasn’tdoingitwearingasportsbraandbaggy
grannypantiesunderneatheverything.ThenIhoppedinmycartogolookforjobsinalesscorporate
setting.IdrovealloverSantaMonicaandWestLA,hittingupeverynon-corporatestoreIcouldfind.
Restaurants,coffeeshops,healthfoodstores,delis,furniturestores,yogastudios,anythingIcouldfind
thatwasn’tagiantnationalchain.

Severalhourslater,Igaveupandwenthome.NobodywashiringandIwasreadytodrop.
MykeysjingledasIwalkedalongthebalconyandapproachedmyfrontdoor.Iwassurprisedto

discoverithadbeensandedandpatched.Itwasn’tpainted,butitwashalfwaytobeingfixed.HadBrodie
doneit,orhadPetraktakentheinitiative?I’dhavetoask.

ThudsechoedinsideBrodie’sapartmentandhisdoorswungopen.Heleanedhisheadout,“Hey,

Chelsea.”

“Hey,Brodie.”Isaidwithanirritatedsigh.
“Howyoulikethedoor?”Heleanedagainstthethincolumnofwallbetweenourtwodoors,muscled

armsfoldedacrosshischestandbulgingproudly.Heworenoshirt.Itwasnearlyimpossiblenottostare.

Nearly.Iinspectedtheworkonmydoorinstead.“Didyoudothis?”
“OfcourseIdidit.Whoelsewouldadoneit?”
“Petrak.”
“Right.Anyway,yeah.Itwasme.”
Iranmyhandoveritandsmirkedathim,“Nicework.Whenareyougoingtopaintit?”
“Yougonnaletmetakeyououtfordinner?”Hisblueeyesdidthathypnoticblazingthing.Notgoingto

workonme.

“Paintmydoorfirst.”
“Theputtyhastodry.Can’tpaintittilltomorrow.”
“Notmyproblem.”
“I’llpaintittomorrow.Youwantdinnerafter?”HewastryingandIcouldrespectthat.Iwasn’tatotal

hardass.Evenexcruciatinglygorgeousmendeservedasecondchancewhentheyshowedsomeeffort.

AlthoughIwasactuallyconsideringlettingBrodiebuymedinner(agirlhadtoeatandhehadbroken

mydoorsoheowedme),tomorrowIhadplanswithWes.ButitwasdifficulttothinkaboutWeswhen
thiswallofmuscledmanhoodwasstaringatmewithblazingblueeyesthatthreatenedtoburnmyclothes
off.

Brodierubbedabighandcasuallyoverhisabs.Boyohboy,hewasbold.
Iscowled,“Mustyou?”
“What,this?”Hekeptrubbinghimself.Healsosmelledfaintlyofmuskycologne.Somethingthatmade

methinkof…

Sex.
Sex,sex,sex.
Hisscentwasonlyslightlyintoxicatingbutithadthepotentialtobeinsanelyaddictive.Hiscocky

smilegrew.Heknewwhathewasdoing.

“Ihavetogo,Brodie.Talktomeafteryoupaintmydoor.”Ipushedinsideandslammedmydoor

behindme.Yes,myheartwasthudding.IwashumanandBrodiewasaperfectspecimenofragingmale

sexuality.Hewasalsoatease.AlthoughIwasn’tsureifthatdefinitionfitbecauseteaseusuallyimplied
theteaserwouldn’tputout,butitwasobviousputtingoutwasexactlywhatBrodiewantedtodo.Or
shouldIsayputin.He’dhadthatlookalloverhisface.

Letmeputitinyou,C.C.
Leaningagainstmyfrontdoor,Isqueezedmyshakingkneestogetherandletoutalittlemoan.
“Iheardthat,”Brodie’svoicevibratedthroughthedoor.
“Istubbedmytoe!”Ishouted.Howtheheckhadheheardthat?
“Yeah,right.”
“Willyougoaway,Brodie?”
“Somethingtellsmethat’snotwhatyouwantmetodo.”
“Go,Brodie!”
Hisdeeplaughrumbledthroughmydoor.“Catchyoulater,C.C.”
AfterIheardhisdoorclose,Iconsideredmakingasidetriptomybedroomtogivemyselfsomemuch

neededsexualrelease.BetweenWesandnowBrodie,Iwasreadytopop.Buttheideaofmasturbating
withBrodierightnextdoorwasabittoomuch.Hewoulddefinitelybelisteningformyorgasmwhile
givinghimselfone.Ipushedimagesofhimlayingnakedonhisbedwithhisfistaroundhishard-onoutof
mymind.Iwouldhavetotakecareofmyselflater,whenhewasn’taround.

Maybeyoucouldlethimtakecareofyouwhenhewasaround.
Noway.
IknewtroublewhenIsawit.
WhatIneededrightnowwas
(Brodie)
foodbecausemyfridgewasemptyandIwasstarvingfromjobhuntingallday.Timetogotothe

grocerystore.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

“Niceass,”somerandomguysaidashewalkedbehindmeintheproducesectionofRalphsahalf

hourlater.“Howmuchtofuckit?”

Igroanedloudly.IneverthoughtI’dsayit,butIwasnowofficiallysickofattentionfromrandommen.

FlirtationfromBrodieandalltheguysatthePromenadewasonething,butbeingpropositionedlikethis
wasathousandmilespasttoomuch.

Ispunaroundandglaredattheownerofthefoulmouth.“Really?Really?Doyoutalktoyourmother

withthatmouth?”Itwasn’tmyfavoritewittyretort,butitwasthebestIcouldthinkofonshortnotice
whenIdidn’tgiveadamn.

FoulMouthwasn’tabadlookingguy.Hewasevendressednice:silversuit,silkshirt,shinydress

shoes.Helookedsocivilizedandpresentable.Butwithanopeninglikethat,forgetit.

Hesmirked,“Ifuckwiththismouth.”
“Stop.”Ihungmyheadandshookitwhilepinchingthebridgeofmynose.“Just…stop.”
“Ifyouneedanyhelpsqueezingthemelons,lemmeknow.”Hewinkedatme.
That’swhenIrememberedIwasstandinginfrontofthecantaloupedisplay,holdingthecantaloupeI’d

beenabouttoputinmygrocerycart.

Iglaredathim.“Wouldyougoaway?”
“Nottillyougimmeyournumber.”
“Mynumberis911,”Ismirked.
“Comeon.Gimmeyournumber.I’lltakeyououtandtreatyouright.”

“No,seriously.It’s911.Callitrightnowandtellthemyouneedanambulance.”
“Anambulance?”hechuckled.“Whatfor?”
“Keepaskingmeformynumberandyou’llfindout.”
“You’reatease,youknowthat?”
Imimicked,“I’mnotinterested,youknowthat?”
Hemadeacreepyduckfacedsmile.“YouknowwhatI’ddowithyou,littlegirl?”
“Serialkillme?”Iscowled,disgusted.“Wouldyoutakeahikealready?”Forasecond,Iconsidered

throwingmycantaloupeathishead,butthoughtbetterofit.Iputitbackonthestackandwalkedaway
withmygrocerycart.

“Yeah,yeah,yeah.Youjustwatchyourself,littlegirl.Youpissoffthewrongguyand—”
IwassomadIsawred.Iturnedaroundandwhippedoutmyphone.“Fine.Youwannagettoknow

me?Tellmeyournameandyourphonenumber.”

“Really?”
“Really.”Iarchedmyeyebrow,waiting.
Hewasn’tsurewhattodo.
“Anytime,”Igrumbled,thumbshoveringovermyiPhone.
“Lester.”TheMolester.“What’syours?”
“Lastname,Lester?”Isaiditsweet,tryingtostaycalm.
“Clements.”
“Showmeyourdriver’slicense,LesterClements.”
“Why?”
Ismiledseductively.“Youwannagettoknowme,Lester,thisishowitstarts.”
Hesnortedalaugh,“IshowyoumyID,you’llsuckmydick,right?”
Iscowled,“Sure,Lester,sure.”
“Youahooker?Iwasjustjokingaround.”
“No,Lester.Idon’tfuckformoney.”
“Okaythen,”hecackled.“Ilikefree.”Heflippedopenhiswalletandpulledouthisdriver’slicense.

Hebithislowerlipandgrinnedwhileshakinghisheadindisbelief.“EasiestpieceofassIeverhad.”

“You’renotsupposedtosaythatoutloud,Les.”
“Right,”hewinked.
Isnappedaphotoofhisdriver’slicensewithmyphone.
“WhyyoutakingapicofmyID?”
“SoIwon’tforgetyourname,LesterClements.”
Hefrowned,“Youacoporsomething?”
“No,Lester.Butyououghtabeadetective.Nowtakeahikeandleavemealone.”
Hestuffedhiswalletbackinhispocket,hisfacegrowingred.“You’reaprivilegedlittlebitch,you

knowthat?”

“Goaway,Lester.”Ipushedmygrocerycartpasthim,thewheelsrattlingasIhurriedaway.
Hegrabbedmyarmhardandsqueezed,yankingmetoastop.
“Hey!”Igrowled,“Letgoofme,Lester!”Itriedtobreakfreebuthisgripwastoostrong.
Hisvoicecutlowanddangerous.“Youthinkyoucanwalkaroundbeingacuntandnoone’sgonnado

nothingaboutit?”

“Youstartedthis,Lester.Sobackthefuckoff.”
Hesqueezedmybicepextrahard,fingersbitingintomyskin.Hewasgoingtoleavebruises.“What’s

stoppingmefromtakingyououtbackandrapingtheshitouttayou,huh,MissPriss?YouthinkLester
Clementsismyrealname?Youthinkthat’sarealID?”

Washebluffing?Ihadnoidea.Ihadnoexperiencewithmenlikehim.Washeacriminalor

something?Organizedcrimemaybe?Ihadnoidea.ButIknewforcertainthatmyswansformationwas
nowacurseafterlessthantwenty-fourhours.

“Answerme,sweetheart,”hegrunted.“GULCK!”Withoutanywarning,Lester’sfaceturnedbrightred

andhesuddenlyfoldedover,grabbingforthesideofthecantaloupestand,tryingtostophimselffrom
fallingtothelinoleumfloor.

That’sright,Ijustkneedhimintheballs.
Youdidn’tgothroughlifebeingfivefootnothingwithouttakingafewselfdefenseclasses.ButI’d

underestimatedmynew5’9”strength.Icouldpackawallopwithmyknee.

Oops.
UnfortunatelyforpoorLester,whonowsatanhisass,he’dgrabbedatthecantaloupesonhisway

down.Awholepileofthemfellonhisheadandshoulders,bouncingoffandrollingeverywhere.Several
thumpedrightonhiscrotch.Hegruntedeachtimeonelanded.

Poorthing.
Not.
Ipushedmycartquicklybutcalmlyaroundthecorneroftheproducesectionandleftitandmy

groceriesinthenextaisleover.Adrenalinfloodedmyblood.Iwascrazyscared.SomethingaboutLester
saidhardenedcriminal.Iranoutsidetotheparkinglot,myheartracing.MyhandsshookasIfishedfor
mykeysinmypurse.Wherewasmycar?Isearchedforit,unabletorememberwhereI’dparked.Thelot
wasn’tthatbig.IcouldseeallofitfromwhereIstoodneartheentrancetoRalphs.ButIcouldn’tseemy
caranywhere!AfterwhatseemedlikefiveminutesofscanningIfinallyfounditandbeelinedstraightfor
it.

“Watchwhereyou’regoing!”Arandomwomanshriekedbehindme.
Overmyshoulder,IsawLesterpushpastamiddleagedwomangoingintoRalphsandlumbertoward

me,hisfaceatwisteddarksmudge,murderorworseinhiseyes.

Oh,shit.
IrantowardmyHyundai,fumblinginmypurseformykeys,tryingtohitthepanicbuttononthe

remote.Icouldn’tfindthebuttonsoIpulledthewholethingout.Screwthepanicbutton.Mynewplan
wastojumpinmycarandlockthedoors.Ifumbledwithmykeyringand—

Shit!
Idroppedthemontheground!
Iwassopanicked,Iranforit,tryingtoputdistancebetweenmeandLester.Hecouldhavemycarand

mykeys.Ididn’tcare.Noteventhinkingofcallingforhelp,Isprintedpastmycartowardtheexitand—

VROOM!!
Ranrightintoablackmotorcycleturningintotheparkinglot.Theguyonthebikebrakedhardwhenhe

sawme.Thenoseofitdippedashestoppedaninchfromhittingme.Islappedmyhandsonthelittlefront
windowtostopmyselffromslammingintoit.

ThetallmuscledriderwithatightT-shirtflippeduphisvisor.“Chelsea?”Familiarblueeyesblazed.
“Blaze!Imean,Brodie!”Whatarelief.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Runningawayfromthatguy.”InoddedbehindmetowardLester,whoslowedtoastoptenpaces

away.FuryfiredfromhiseyeballsashisgazedancedbetweenmeandBrodie.

BrodieleanedtothesideandscrutinizedLester.“Thatyourboyfriend?”
“No!”Islappedhismotorcycle.“He’ssomerandomasshole.”
Brodiechuckled,“Helookspissed.”
“Youthink?”Igrowled.
“What’dyoudo?”Amusement.
“Ididn’tdoanything!Areyougonnahelpmeorareyougonnagetoutofmyway?”

Brodie’seyessmiledatme.“Geton.”
“What?”
“Jumponmybike.”
Ididn’tneedtobetoldathirdtime.Itriedtoclimbon,butIwasn’tsurewheretoputmyfeet.Brodie

reachedbackwithhisbighand,grabbedmythigh,andbasicallythrewmeontotheseatbehindhim.

“Holdontight.Reallytight.”
Lesterstaredatus,planningouthisnextmove,whichincludedreachingintohissuitjacket.Didhe

haveaknifeoragun?Ididn’tknow.

Brodierevvedtheengine.“Ready?”
IwrappedmyarmsaroundhiswaistandsqueezedashardasIcould.Hisentirebodywasreallyhard.

HavingawallofmusclebetweenmeandLesterwasexactlywhatIneededrightnow.

BrodierevvedthethrottleandthistimethemotorcyclespedtowardLester.Brodiewasn’tgoingto

stop!HewasgoingtorunrightoverLester!

Ohshit!!
WHAM!!!!
Icoughedoutalaugh,unabletobelievewhathadjusthappened.Aswe’ddrivenby,Brodiehad

kickedLesterrightinthefacewiththetoeofhismotorcycleboot.

In.The.Face!
Lesterflewbackwardandlandedinaheapwithastrangledgrunt.Hehadtobedeadafterthat.I

couldn’timaginehimactuallysurviving.UnlessBrodiehadkickedhiminthechest?Icouldn’tbesure.

Itallhappenedsofast.
Brodieblastedthebikeacrosstheparkinglot.IlookedbacktoseeifanyonehadwitnessedLester’s

likelymurder.Notyet.

Whenwehitthestreet,thebikeleanedwayoverandIsworeIwasgoingtofallrightoff.Isqueezed

BrodieastightlyasIcould.Afterthat,wewentreallyfastforseveralblocksandturnedabouttwenty
times.IjustheldonandtrustedthatBrodiewouldn’tgetuskilled.

Suddenly,thebikeslowedandIlurchedforward,whackingmychinagainstBrodie’sback.
“Fuck,”hegrunted.
“Whathappened?”
BRAA-AAH!!
ThesoundwasthebuzzingburpfromtheloudspeakeroftheSantaMonicaPolicecruisertrailing

behindus.Itwassoloud,InearlyletgoofBrodieandfelloffthebackofthemotorcycle.Somehow,I
managedtoholdon,probablybecausemyadrenalinhadspikedagain.Why?BecausesomeoneatRalphs
hadprobablyalreadydiscovereddeadLestertheMolester,called911,andnowtherewasanAPBoutfor
BrodieandClyde,a.k.a.Chelsea,a.k.a.,Iwasnowanaccessorytomotorcyclemurder!

Fabulous!
Jail,hereIcome!
DidtheystillhavethedeathpenaltyinCalifornia?
Yes!
Eek!

Chapter18

Brodieparkedthemotorcycleinaredzoneinfrontofafirehydrant.Thepolicecruiserrolledtoa

stopanddoubleparkedbehindus,redsandbluesflashing.

Brodiedidn’thavemuchchoiceaboutparkingbecausethestreetwasnarrowandfilledonbothsides

withparallelparkedcars.Eventhoughthiswasatree-linedsuburbanneighborhoodstreet,itwasstill
SantaMonica.EighteenmillionpeopleandcountinginthegreaterLAarea.Therewasneverparking
anywhere.

Brodieputhiskickstanddownandleanedthebikeonit.
“Sorryaboutthis,”Imuttered.MyassumptionwasBrodiehadbeenspeeding.Becauseofme.
Hepulledoffhishelmetandtossedhishairoutofhiseyes.“Wasn’tyourfault.”
“Yesitwas.”
“Don’tworryaboutit.”HeswunghislegoverthefrontofthebikewiththegraceofanOlympic

hurdleroramartialartsmaster.

“How’dyoudothat?”
“Practice.”Hetookmyhandsandhelpedmeoffthebackofthebike.
Amaleofficersteppedoutofthecruiserwearingthestandardblackuniformandgunbelt.Hisbulky

bulletproofvestpuffedouttheuniform,makinghimveryintimidating.Hejabberedsomethingintothe
radioclippedtohisshoulderbeforewalkinguptous.HelookedrightatBrodieandsaid,“Sir,doyou
knowwhyIstoppedyou?”

“Yup.”
“Idon’t,”Isaid,lookingbetweenthem.“Weweren’tspeeding,werewe?”Ithadfeltlikewewere,but

whatdidIknow?

“No,youweren’t,”theofficersaid.“Miss,areyouawarethatCaliforniahasahelmetlaw?”
Iwasnow.AndI’djustbrokenit.Great.Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Iconsciouslyplayeddumband

hopedtohellmyluxuriousblondehairwouldsellit.Isaidtotheofficer(asstupidlyaspossiblewithmy
voicerisinglikealittlegirl),“Thereis?”

“Thereis.”
“Oh,gosh,”Ipoutedbreathlessly.“I’mreallysorry,officer.I’veneverbeenonamotorcyclebefore.”

Thatwastrue.

OfficerDoubtfulsmirkedatmelikeIwaslying.
“Honest.Itwasmyfirsttime.Andwewerejustgoingafewblocks.See,weliveinthesame

apartmentbuildingandwewere—”RunningawayfromaguywhotriedtorapemebeforeBrodiekilled
him?Isighed,feelingdefeated.MaybeifIshowedremorsehe’dletusgowithawarningorwhatever.In
anormalvoice,Isaid,“I’msorry,officer.Itwasmyfault.”Aboutthehelmet,notthemurder.Thatwas
Lester’sfault!Hewastotallyaskingforit!Hedeservestobedead.“Ishould’veknownbetterthanto
ridewithoutahelmet.”

TheofficerlookedatBrodie,“Doyouhaveasecondhelmetforyourfriend?”
“Idon’t.”
“Wereyouawarethehelmetlawappliestopassengersaswellasriders?”
“Iwas,”Brodiesaidcurtly.
Theofficer’seyesroamedBrodie’sfaceforamoment.“Sir,canIseeyourlicenseandregistration?”
Brodiesighedandpulledhiswalletoutofhisbackpocket.“Yeah,yeah.”Hehandedbothtothe

officer.

“Thankyou,sir.”Theofficerturnedtomeandlookedmeoveragain.
Ohno.
Hewasgoingtoaskformylicensetoo.
Ifrozewithfear.
Ifhedid,Iwasinbigtrouble.Ididn’tlookanythinglikethepictureofplainJaneonmylicense.He’d

probablythinkI’dstolenmyownID.ButitwastheonlyIDIhad.Whatdidtheydowithpeoplewho
weren’tinthesystem,becausesupermodelmedidn’tactuallyexist.Therewerenodriver’slicense
picturesofme/her,nocollegegraduationphotos,nohighschoolpictures,etc.,etc.Thiswasbad,bad,
bad.

Whatwouldhappenthen?Wouldtheyjustlockmeupandthrowawaythekey?Ididn’tknowforsure,

butIknewthingswereabouttogetawholelotworse.

OfficerDoubtfulwasstillstaringatme.
Heknows!HeknowsI’mhidingsomething!
Crap!Crap!Crap!
Iswallowedhardandtriednottolookscaredtodeath.WhathappenedifOfficerDoubtfularrested

me?Wouldhecuffmeandstuffmeandhaulmedowntothestationtointerrogatemeforthemurderof
LestertheMolester?WouldthepoliceplaygoodcopbadcopuntilIbrokeandtoldthemeverything?
WhatwouldIdothen?CallalawyerIcouldn’tafford?I’dhavetocallmyparents.Whatwouldtheythink
iftheycamedowntothepolicestationandsawme?Iknewonething:theywouldn’tthinkIwastheir
daughter!HowwouldIprovewhoIwastoanybody?IsupposedlyknewBrodiebuthedidn’tevenknow
whoIwas!Iwouldn’tevenbeabletoproveIwasaUScitizen!I’dprobablyendupdeportedtoRussia
andsoldintowhiteslavery!

Thiswasathousanddifferentkindsofbad!
Icringed,tryingtohidemynakedfear.
Howhadthisdaygonefrombadtoworsetoassfuckedinjustonehour?
Thenithitme.IwouldtellthepoliceIwasChelseaJohnson,mysister.I’dsaywe’dswitched

driver’slicensesbymistake.That’sit!I’dsaywegotcardedatanightclublastweekandmixedupour
IDsandnowshewasupinSanFranciscosowewerewaitinguntilhernextvisittoswitchthemback,
ratherthanrisklosingtheminthemail.Itwasperfect!Chelseawouldtotallybackmyplay!ButI’djust
havetoconvinceherIwasme.No,wait.Thatwouldn’twork.Chelseadidn’tlooklikeplainJaneme.
Shit.

Shit,shit,shit.
Therewasnowayoutofthis.
MaybeI’djusttellOfficerDoubtfulI’dlostmylicenseandtellhimIwasChelsea.Yeah,thatwasmy

onlyoption.Mysisterwasgoingtobepissedwhen—

Theofficersmiledatme.“Givemeaminute.”Hewalkedawayandclimbedinhiscruiserandstarted

punchingthingsonthecomputerscreennexttothesteeringwheel.

Iblewoutahugesigh,tryingtoridmyselfofthenowtoxiclevelsofanxietypumpingthroughmy

system.

“Youokay?”Brodieasked.
“Yeah,”Ilied.“Hey,I’mreallysorryaboutthis.Thisisallmyfault.”
“Noworries.We’regood.”
“Yousure?”
“Yeah,I’msure.”Herubbedhisknuckleagainstmyarmaffectionately.
Thatmademefeelbetter.Sadly,Iwastoostressedtobeturnedon,butitwasnicetoknowhewasn’t

madatme.Ishookmyhead,“Ifitwasn’tforthatstupidLester,noneofthiswould’vehappened.”

“Who?”
“ThatguyatRalphs,theoneyou—”
“Shhh.”Heflickedhiseyestowardthecopcar.
“Oh,right.”WhileItappedmyfootnervously,Inoticedtheofficerkeptstaringatme.
“Thatcopischeckingyouout,”Brodiegrumbled.
“Nohe’snot.He’sacop.He’sprobablyprofilingme.WonderingifI’mhighonmeth.”
Brodiesnorted.“He’scheckingyouout.Guyhasadick,doesn’the?”
Iwatchedthecopclosely.Brodiewasright.WhenIwatchedthecop,hestoppedwatchingme.“Okay.

Maybeyou’reright.”IwalkedaroundthemotorcyclesoitwasbetweenmeandOfficerWandering
Eyeballs.

Brodiesmiled.“Toldya.Forahotchick,you’reprettycluelesswhenitcomestodudes.”
Ifrowned,“Hotchick?”
“What?It’snotaninsult.”
“Yeah,butit’sstilldegrading.”
“How?”
“IfIhavetoexplain,it’sdefinitelydegrading.”
Hechuckled,“Thatmakesnosense.”
“Shutup.”
OfficerEyeballssteppedoutofhiscaraminutelaterandhandedBrodiehislicenseandregistration.

“Sorryforthedelay,Mr.Bolden.”

Imuttered,“YourlastnameisBolden?”
Henodded.
Isnickeredtomyself.Itfigured.Isaidtothecop,“We’reneighbors.Hejustmovedinnextdoorthe

otherday.”

“Right.”Thecopnodded,notcaring.“Sir,unlessyouhaveahelmetforyourladyfriend,Ican’tlether

backonyourmotorcycle.”

Brodiebarked,“HowamIsupposedtogiveheraridehome?”
Theofficerspreadhishandsandshruggedasiftosayhecouldn’thelp.
Igroaned.“IguessI’mwalking.”
OfficerEyeballssaid,“I’dbegladtogiveyouaride,miss.Ifyouneedone.”
“Ibetyouwould,”Brodiesmirked.Heshotmeasideglancethatsaid,Toldya.
“Oh,uh…”Istammered.“DoIhaveto?OrcanIjustwalk?”
Theofficersaid,“It’suptoyou,miss.ButI’dbehappytodriveyouwhereveryouneedtogo.”
“Youknowwhat?”Brodieblurted.“I’llwalkherhome.Youdon’tneedtogiveheraride.”He

soundedirritated.“What’syourname,officer?”Hereadtheman’snametag.“We’llwalk.Thatcoolwith
you?”

OfficerEyeballssmiledanangrysmileupatBrodie,whowasatleasttwoinchestaller.“Finebyme.

Butyoubettermoveyourbike.Unlessyouwantmetoimpoundit.”

Irolledmyeyes.Men.
BrodieglaredatOfficerEyeballs,hisjawmusclestickingrepeatedly.Afterastrainedmoment,

Brodie’slipstightenedoverhisteethlikehewantedtopunchEyeballsintheface.Orkickhimtodeath.

Eyeballswasamused,likehewasupforwhateverBrodiethrewathim.“Arewehavingaproblem

here,Mr.Bolden?”

Oh,geez.Whowasthisdouche?Washeoneofthosecopswhothoughthewasabovethelaw?
“Nope,”Brodiesaid.“We’regood.Allgood.Aren’twegood,C.C.?”
“Uhhhh…”Istammered.
“Miss,wouldyoulikemetogiveyouaridehome?Yourfriendseemsagitated.”

“Yeah,miss,”Brodiesaidsarcastically.“DoyouwantOfficerNiceGuytogiveyouaridehome?”If

Brodiedidn’tgethimselfundercontrol,hewasgoingtogethimselfarrested.

Igrimaced,“Um,IthinkIcanwalk,ifthat’sokaywitheverybody?”Ilookedbetweenthetwomen.
Eyeballsarchedaneyebrowandlookedatme.
“She’llwalk,”Brodiesaidvictoriously.“You’llwalk.”
“I’llwalk.”Iforcedasmile.
“Oh,youknowwhat?”Brodiesaid.“Ithinkmybikechainisloose.OkaywithyouifIwalkithome,

Officer?Onthesidewalk,Imean?”

Eyeballsshrugged,“Aslongasyoupushitanddon’truntheengine,sure.”
“Great.”Brodiesmiledatme,“Wannahelpmewalkmybikehome,miss?”Hewasmimicking

Eyeballs.

“Oh,uh,sure.Butdon’tcallmemiss.”IwasgettingirritatedwithBrodie’sirritation.Yes,Iwas

flatteredhewasbeingprotective,buthewastakingthingsabittoofar.

Eyeballssaidtome,“Yousureyoudon’twantaridehome?”
Irolledmyeyes.OfficerOverlyChivalrouswasgettingtobeabitmuch.“I’mfine.Thanks.”Ijust

wantedhimtoleave.

“Suityourself,”Eyeballssaidwithawink.“Ifyouneedanyhelp,don’thesitatetocalltheSanta

MonicaPolice.”Hepulledabusinesscardoutofhisbreastpocket.

Brodieturnedtothesideandchuckled,“Ican’tbelievethis.”
ItookEyeballs’scard.“Thanks.”
“Callme…”hesaidandhiseyesflashedsuggestively.“…ifyoueverneedanything.”
Iblinkedmyeyesandshookmyheadindisbelief.“Wait,didyoujusthitonme?”
Brodie’sfaceturnedredandhelaughedangrily.
“No,ma’am.”Nowhewascallingmema’am,coveringhisass.“Isaid,callmeifyoueverneed

anything.FromtheSantaMonicaPolice.”

“That’snothowhesaidit,”Brodiegrumbled.
“Haveaniceday,”Eyeballssaidbeforesaunteringtohiscarandclimbinginside.
“Whatthefuck!”Brodieseethedinawhisper.“Thatguyjustmadeaplayforyou!”
“Whatdoyoucare?You’renotmyboyfriend.”Frankly,Iwasirritatedwithbothmenfortheirbad

behavior.

“Youwanthimtobeyourboyfriend?”
“Wouldyoujustshutupuntilhe’sgone?”
Eyeballssatinhiscar,glancingbetweenusandhiscomputer.Ididn’twanttowaitaroundandgive

himachancetoarresteitherofus.

“Let’sgo,Brodie.”
Hestoodhismotorcycle,toedthekickstand,androlleditontothesidewalk.
Ifollowed.
Wewalkedtotheendoftheblockandturnedthecorner.WithEyeballsoutofsight,Ifeltimmediate

relief.Butneitherofussaidanythingfortwomoreblocks.

“Thatguywasafuckingcockgobbler,”Brodiebarked.
Isuppressedalaugh.“Idon’tthinkthat’shisthing.”
“Right.Iforgot.Hewasinterestedinyou,notme.Unlessyouhaveacock.Youdon’thaveacock,do

you?”

Ilaughedopenlynow.“No!”
“Sohewasinterestedinyou.LikeIsaid.”
“Jealous?”Ismiledathim.
“Me?Jealous?Ofthatprick?Fuckno.”

“Yousure?”
“SureI’msure.Ifthatguywasn’tacop,Iwould’vetwistedhimintoapretzel.”Brodiedefinitely

lookedstrongenoughandbigenoughtohavedoneit.

“Brodie,doyouknowwhatdenialis?It’sthis.”Igesturedathim,mypalmsraisingandloweringlikeI

wasoneofthosePriceIsRightmodelsshowingofftheprizes.

“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Wait,youweren’tintothatguy,wereyou?”
“WoulditbotheryouifIwas?”
“Shit.Areyouoneofthosewomenwhocan’tresistamaninuniform?Youare,aren’tyou?”He

laughed.“Somewomengocrazyforthatshit.Don’tletthebadgefoolyou.Aguylikethatistoobiga
pussytobeanoutlaw,sohejoinsupwithabunchofotherpussiessotheycanharassguyslikeme.”

“Awww,poorlittleBrodie.Isthethuglifetoohardforyou?”
Hesmirked,“I’mnotathug.Oranoutlaw.Butyoushouldbe.Isawhowyouflirtedyourwayoutofa

citation.”

“What?!Ididnot!”
“Youkidding?You’reatotaloutlawbikerbabeandyoudon’tevenknowit.”
Iscoffed,“I’mnotanoutlawbikerbabe.”
“That’swhattheyallsay.Wait’llwegetyouahelmetandsomeskintightleathers.”
“We?”
Hesmiledandasexydimplepoppedout.“Yeah,we.I’mpicturingyouinsometightassleatherpants

withthesidelacesallthewayfromankletohip.Andawraparoundzipper.Youknow,thekindthatgoes
aroundfromfronttobacklikeaG-string.”Hiseyesflashedashestaredatme.“Youtotallyhavetheass
forit.Mmmm,mmmm.Iwouldtearthatshitoffyouinaheartbeat.Unzipthatzipperandtakeabiteoutof
yourwetpussybeforeIsinkmydickintoit.”

Yes,Iwasgettingturnedon.Havingacavemansaveyouthendrooloveryouwhilesuggestinghedress

youintrashybikerwearbeforehefuckedyouwasdefinitelyaguiltypleasure.Asfrustratingasmy
swansformationhadbeen,itdidhaveit’sperks.Thiswasone.

Tryingtohidemyblush,Itookadeepbreathandsighed,“Easy,cowboy.JustbecauseI’veriddenon

yourhorsedoesn’tmeanyougettorideme.”Okay,maybeIshouldn’thavesaiditquitelikethat.No,I
wantedtosayitlikethat.Lethimsquirmbecausehewasmakingmesquirm.

Helaughed,“Okay,cowgirl.”Suddenlyhiseyesboredintomine.“Youdotheriding.Regularor

reverse,Idon’tcarewhich.”

Againstmywill,myeyesflaredbackathim.Ipicturedmesittingonhiscock,handsplantedonhis

hardchestasIgroundintohimandrodehimlikethestallionhewas.

Oh,wow.
Henodded,“Thoughtso.You’rethinkingaboutitrightnow.”Ididn’tdenyit.“Youliketobein

control,don’tyou?Youlikeholdingthestick.AmIright?”

MaybeIdid.Ismiled.Andblushed.Andlookedaway.“Oh,shit!”
“What?Isaysomethingwrong?”
“No!Mykeys!Andmycar!Ijustrememberedthey’rebackatRalphswiththatguyLester!Whatare

wegonnado?”

Brodiegrunted,“Fuckthatguy.Ifheisn’tdead,I’llkillhimwhenwegetthere.”
“No,I’mserious!”
“SoamI.”
Istoppedonthesidewalk.“Areyoukidding?You’dmurderaguy?”Forme?ShouldIbeswooningor

callingOfficerEyeballs?I’dneverknownamurdererpersonally,butsometimestheymovedinrightnext
door.

Brodiestaredatme.“Ifhetriestohurtyou,yeahIfuckingwill.”

“You’reserious?”
“Deadserious.”
Iwinced.“Uhhh…”
“Relax.I’mnotgonnakilltheguyonsight.Butifhemakesamoveonyou?Iwillendhim.”Theway

hesaiditwassodangerous,Ibelievedhewould.

“Let’sworryaboutthatlater,”Isaidnervously.“Ijustwanttogetmykeysandmycar.”
“Yeah,sure.Let’sgo.”

Chapter19

“Canyoudescribeyourkeystome?”Themanaskingwasthecurly-hairedstoremanageratRalphs.

Hestoodinthemanager’sislandbetweenalltheregisters.

Brodiestoodbesideme.
Isaid,“Yeah.There’sakeytomyHyundaiandafewothers,andaPowerPuffGirlsenamel

keychain.”GeorgehadboughtitformeatSanDiegoComicContwoyearsago.

Themanagersmiled,“That’sthem.”Theyjingledwhenhereachedunderthecounterandpulledthem

out.Thankgoodnesshedidn’taskformyID.

“Thankyousomuch.CanIask,doyourememberwhoturnedthemin?I’dliketo,uh…”makesureit

wasn’tLestertheMurderingMolester.“…thankthem.””

Themanager,whoseemednice,lookedupthoughtfully.“Letmethink…Youknow,I’msorry,butso

manypeoplehavebeeninandoutallday,Ihonestlycan’tremember.”

“Itwasn’taguywearingasilkshirt,wasit?”
Heshookhishead,“Ican’treallyremember.Sorry.”
“Thanksanyways.”
Ididn’tknowwhyIwasasking.AguylikeLesterprobablywould’vekeptthemandtriedtofollowme

homesohecouldsneakinwhileIwassleepingandtrytorapemebeforekillingme.Irepresseda
shudder.

BrodieandIwalkedouttomycar.
“Thatwaseasy,”hesaid.
“Yeah,butwhataboutLester?”
“Who?”
“Theguywhotriedtoattackme.Whathappenedtohim?”
“Well,ifhewasdead,hisbodywouldstillbehere,thecopswouldbeswarmingtheparkinglot,

there’dbeyellowcrimescenetapeeverywhere,andathousandpeoplegawking.”

“Sohe’snotdead,”Isaid,disappointed.
“That’sabadthing?”
“Whatifhe’s…Idon’tknow.Whatifhe’sinhiscarwatchingandwaitingtofollowmehome?”
“Lethim.I’llbreakthatguyinhalf.”
“Ithinkhehadagun,Brodie.”
“Didyouseeagun?”
“No.Buthelookedlikethetype.”
“Whattypeisthat?”
“Mafia?Idon’tknow.”
“WasheRussian?Italian?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Hedidn’thaveanaccent.”
“Doesn’tmeanhewasn’tmafia.”
Ihatedthatthishadhappened.IwantedmyplainJanelifeback.Speakingofwhich,ifIsomehow

managedtoturnbacktomynormalself,Lesterwouldneverrecognizeme.Theonlyquestionwas,would
IchangebacktomyselfifItooktheringoff?MaybeitonlyworkedonceandI’dstaylikethisforever.I
didn’tfuckingknow.

“What?”Brodieasked.

“Nothing.”
“Youcantellme.”
Ismiledathimforcefully,“Trustme,itwillsoundridiculous.Solet’sjustfocusonLester,allright?”
“Howaboutwefocusondinner.”
“Huh?”
“Wasn’tthatwhyyouwenttoRalphs?”
“Ohyeah.WhytheheckwereyouatRalphswhenIwasatRalphs?Itseemsabitstalkerish,don’tyou

think?”

Hesnorted,“It’stheclosestgrocerystoretoourbuilding.”
“No,StarMarketiscloser.”
“Idon’tevenknowwhatthatis.”
“It’sthePersiandelionSantaMonicaBoulevard.”
“Whatever.IshopatRalphs.Andyouneedfood.You’returningintoabitch.”
“Iamnot!”
“Isaidturninginto.Butwecanstoptheprocesswithfood.”Hewinked.
“Ass.”IslappedhismuscledarmwherehistattoospeekedbelowthesleevesofhisT-shirt.“ButI’m

notgoingbackintoRalphs.”

“Noprob.I’lltakeyouout.Anywhereyouwannago,C.C.”
“Howabouttakeout?”
“Yourplaceormine?”Heofferedasmugsmile.
“Nosex,Brodie.”
“Ididn’tsayanythingaboutsex,C.C.”
“You’reaman.Youdidn’thaveto.”
Helaughed,“Let’sdoit.”
Iglaredathim.
Hesmirked,“Imeant,gogetfood.”
“Imeanit,Brodie.Nosex!”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

“Whenwasthelasttimeyougotlaid,C.C.?”Brodieaskedbeforetakingabiteofhisburrito.
“Notasrecentlyasyou,”Ilaughedandgrabbedawarmtortillachipfromthegreasypaperbagand

dippeditinoneofourplasticcupsofsalsa.Wesatatmyrounddinnertable,whichstoodbetweenmy
kitchenetteandthelivingroom.SeveralaluminumfoiltakeouttraysofMexicanfoodwereopenbetween
us.

“Ithinkyou’rewellpastdueforanorgasmorfive,C.C.You’vegotthatuptightunfuckedthinggoing.

Theonethatsaysyouneedtocomealloverahardcocksoyoucaneaseupanotch.”

Isatbackinmychairandfoldedmyarmsacrossmybreasts,partiallyoutofirritationandpartially

becausethisconversationwasmakingmynippleshard,andIdidn’twantBrodietonotice.“Howdoyou
knowI’mnotalesbian?”

Heshrugged.“Dykeslikedickstoo.Whyyouthinktheyusestrapons?”
“Doyouhaveanyideahowignorantthatsounds?”
“What?It’strue.Everybodylikesdick.”
“Exceptyours.”
Helaughed.“Okay.Whateveryousay,C.C.”
“Someofuscangetthroughlifejustfinewithoutdick.”

“Idon’tknowifyou’veheard,butinthetwenty-firstcentury,somepeopleenjoycasualsex.Menand

women.”

“Emphasisoncasual,”Isnortedderisively.
“What,dothepeopleinyourworldhavetobemarriedbeforethey’reallowedtofuck?Orjust

engaged?”

“Howdidwegetonthetopicofsexagain?Ohyeah.Becauseit’sallyouevertalkabout.”
“Justanswerthequestion.”
Igroaned.“No,theydon’thavetobemarried.Andno,I’mnotavirgin.”
“Ihopenot,”hechuckled.
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“Idon’tdovirgins.”
“Andyouwon’tbedoingme,B.B.”
Hesnickered,“Buttbrains.RemindmenevertotellyouwhatC.C.reallymeans.”
“IthoughtitwasshortforChel-see.”
“Thattoo.”Hewasgrinningfromeartoear.
“Whatelsedoesitmean?”Idemanded.
“Nottelling.”
“Letmeguess.It’ssomethingsexual.”
“You’reontherighttrack,”hesmiled.
“Brodie,doyoueverstopthinkingaboutsex?”
“Whenyou’rearound?Nope.”
“AreyouwalkingViagraorsomething?”
“No.Youare.OnelookatyouandBAM!Punchedaholerightthroughmyjeans.Alreadyhadtothrow

outtwopairssinceImetyou.”

“Didnot,”Ilaughed.
Hejustgrinnedandpoppedanothertortillachipinhismouth.
MyiPhonesatonthetablebesideme.Itmadeabubblingnoise,signalinganewtext.Asecondlater,it

bubbledtwicemore.

“Youneedtogetthat?”heoffered.
“Letmecheck.”Ipickeditupandswipedovertothemessenger.
Wes:Makesureyougetplentyofsleeptonight.
Wes:Tomorrowcouldbelate.
Wes:Don’twantyoufallingasleepandmissingallthefun.
Itextedback:Okay,Dad.ShouldItakeanaptomorrowafternoontoo?
Wes:Notabadidea.Wecandoittogether.
Me:I’mnotnappingwithyou.
Wes:You’reright.Wewouldn’tgetmuchsleep.
Me:Dirtypig.
Wes:Iknewyoulovedbacon.Talktoyoutomorrow,Sunflower.Oinkoink!
Amused,Ismiledtomyself.
“Oneofyourboyfriends?”Brodieaskedwhilemunchingonanothertortillachip.
Iglaredathim,“Why,yes,Brodie.Oneofmysixboyfriends.Ifyou’relucky,youcanbeluckynumber

seven.”

“Noshit?”Hedidn’tsoundexcited.Hesoundeddisappointed,likehetookmeseriously.
“No,buttbrain.Idon’thaveanyboyfriends.Orfriendswithbenefits.Geez,areyouthatgullible?”I

wasn’tsurewhy,butIfeltlikehewasassumingIwasaslutlikehim,whichmademeangry.

“Whatthefuck,C.C.,”hesaid,slightlyoffended.“Chicksashotasyoualwayshavealineofguys

waitingtobenext.”

“Areyoucallingmeaslut?”Iwasreadytolecturehimformakingassumptionsaboutmynonexistent

sexlife.I’dbeenonestepabovecelibateforyears.

“Relax.Ididn’tsayyouhadguyslinedup.Isaidguysarelinedup.Whetheryouknowitornot,every

guywhoknowsyouisconstantlywonderingwhenhe’llgetashotatyou.”

“Ashot?Youmeanhavesex?”IscowledwhenIsaidthewordsex.
Herolledhiseyes.“Don’tbesouptight,C.C.Someguys,yeah.Alltheywantistofuckyou.Other

guyswanttoputaringonthatshitandstartmakingbabiessotheycansendoutChristmascardstotheir
buddieseveryyearwithyouinthem.Iwould.Anyway,whateverkindofguywe’retalkingabout,I
promiseyou,everyguywhoknowsyouwantsyou.”

Icouldn’tbelievemyears.Despitetherealityofmyswansformation,insideIwasstillthelittlenerd

girlwhocouldn’tgetasingleguyfromspeeddatingtocallherback.Noteventheboringoneslikeun-
extremeMike.IsmiledatBrodie,“So,whichguyareyou?”

Hepickeduphisburrito,butpausedbeforetakingabite.Thenhesaid,“Nottheguywhojusttexted

you.”

Irolledmyeyes.“Eatyourburrito,buttbrain.”
Helaughedbeforechompinghisburrito.
Iforkedupabiteofmycheeseenchiladaandcheweditdown.“Sotellme,Brodie.Whatdoyoudo

whenyou’renotbusyfixingbrokendoorsorsavingdamselsindistressatthelocalgrocerystore?”

“Youwouldn’tbelieveme.”Hesmiledandtookanotherbiteofhisburrito.
“Handyman?”
Hefinishedchewingandwipedhismouthwithapapernapkin.“Notanymore.”
“Don’tretiretoosoon.Youstillowemeapainteddoor.”
“Don’tworry,IalwaysfinishwhatIstart.”Hewinked,clearlymakinganallusiontosex.
Iignoredit.“Okay,you’renotahandyman.Automechanic?”
“Usedtodothattoo.NowIjustworkonmybikeormyfriends’bikeswhentheyneedhelp.”
“Okay,howaboutdruglord?”
Hegrinned,“Notthateither.”
“I’mrunningoutofideas,Brodie.Helpmeout.”
“Keepguessing.”
“Underwearmodel?”
Hearchedaneyebrow.
“Youarenotanunderwearmodel.”
“Was.”
“What?Idon’tbelieveyou.”
“Idon’tneedyoutobelieveme,”helaughed.“Yougonnaeatthatsecondenchilada?”
“Goahead,”Isaidabsently,myiPhonealreadyinmyhand.IswipedovertoSafariandtypedBrodie

BoldenintoGoogle.Abunchofblackandwhitephotosloaded,allshowingBrodieinunderwearwiththe
sameincredibleabsI’dseeninreallife.Iclickedonabunchofthephotostoenlargethem.“Holyshit!
That’syou!”

Hesmirkedwhileforkingupmyenchilada.
Ilookedatseveralmorepictures.“Wait,didyouposeforCalvinKlein?”
Hesmiledaroundabigmouthfulofenchilada.
Igasped,“Youdidnot!”
Hejustgrinnedandchewed.
“Wow,IlivenextdoortoaCKcelebrity!”
Heshookhishead,“No.I’mjustaregularguy.”

“B.S.!Lookatyou!”Ishowedhimanotherphotoonmyphone.
“That’sme,”hesaid,dismissively.
“Howdidyougetintomodeling?”
Heshrugged.“MetsomeguysatagymhereinLAwhoweredoingit.Theywereputtingtogethera

beefcakecalendarandneededanotherguy.OnethingledtoanotherandthenextthingIknew,myabs
wereeverywhere.Butitwasalwaysmoreofasidething.Neverdiditfulltime.Alwayshadaregular
job.”

“Evenwhenyouweredoingtheunderwearstuff?”
“Yup.”
“Areyoustillmodeling?”
“Nah.”Hewipedhisfingersonhisnapkin.“Igottiredofit.Toomuchcompetition.Anditgotold

afterawhile.Peoplejudgingyousolelyonyourlooks.Seemedlikeawasteofmylife.”

“Whoa,whoareyou?AreyoutheBrodieIknow?”
“Sameone.”
“Okay,ifyou’renotmodelinganymore,whatdoyoudoforyourregularjobnow?Ordidyouretireon

allthemoneyyoumade?”

“Itdoesn’tpaythatgood.I’vegotsomecashsavedup,butI’mnotretiringonit.SoI’mstillworking.

I’vealwaysbeenworking.”

“Doingwhat?”
Hetookadeepbreath.“Youreallywannaknow?”
“That’swhyI’masking.”
“Iteachdevelopmentallychallengedadultshowtomanagetheirlives.”
Ilaughedinhisfaceforafulltenseconds.“Youdonot.”
Hescowledatme,satbackinhischair,andtossedhiswaddednapkinonthetable.“Itoldyouyou

wouldn’tbelieveme.And,yeah,Ido.”

“Wait,really?”
“Really.”
“Like,whatdoyoudo?”
“I’vegotabunchofclients.Rightnow,mostofthemareyoungautisticmen.CouplehaveAsperger’s.

Mostarehighfunctioningenoughtoworkregularjobs,buttheyneedalotofhelpmanagingthebasicslike
payingbillsorgettingaroundtownorrememberingtobrushtheirteethandtakeashower.Oneofmykids,
Wyatt,can’tevendothat.”

IfeltmyheartpinchwhenhecalledWyatthiskid.
“He’llprobablyneverbeabletoworkajob.I’mlikehisbigbrother.Iprettymuchjustspendtime

withhimsohisparentsgetsomedowntime.They’llhavetotakecareofhimhiswholelife.Seethis?”
Hepointedatasmallfadingbruiseshapedlikeacrescentmoonjustbelowhislefteye.“Wyattclipped
methereacoupleweeksagowhenItookhimtotheSantaMonicaPiertoridetheridesandplayallthe
games.Hedoesn’tlikethecoasters,justthebasicstufflikethemerry-go-roundorPacificPlunge.That’s
theonethatbouncesyouupanddownliketwentyfeet.Prettychill.Helovesthatshit.Laughshisassoff
thewholetime.”

“HowoldisWyatt?”
“He’sseventeen.”
Iknewtherideandpicturedthetwoofthemonthebenchseatwiththeirarmsintheair,laughingas

theybounced.Ihidasecretsmile.

“Anyway,hegottooexcitedwhenhewasplayingthatgamewhereyousmashallthemechanical

gopherswiththepaddedmallet.Whenhefinallyhitone,Icheeredhimfordoingagreatjob,sohehitme
withthemalletlikeIwasagopher.”

“Really?”
Hegrinned.“Yup.Whackedmegood.Rightintheeye.”Brodiechuckledandshookhisheadasa

farawaysmileeasedontohisface.“Greatkid.ButIalwaysgottabeonmytoeswithhim.Healmost
brokemynoseamonthago.Triedtohughimandhebashedmewithhisforeheadandgavemeabloody
nose.Kid’sskullismadeofsteel.”

“Wow,Brodie.Howdidyouevergetintodoingthissortofthing?”
Heshrugged.“MyolderbrotherBrianisautistic.Ididthesamethingforhimgrowingup.BythetimeI

wassixteenandhadadriver’slicense,andhewastwenty-two,Iknewmoreabouthowtotakecareof
myselfthanhedoesnow.Backthen,Iwasalwaysshowinghimstuffbecausehewasmybrother.It’sjust
whatIdid.YoueverseethatmovieRainMain?”

“No,sorry.”
“RainMainisamoviewithTomCruiseandDustinHoffman.They’rebrothersandHoffmanis

autistic.Watchitsometime.That’skindofwhatit’slikewithmeandBrian,exceptBriancan’tcount
cardsinhisheadlikeahumancomputerorhearasongonceandplayitnotefornote.Hecan’tdoanyof
thatsavantstuff.He’sjustautisticandneedsalotofhelp.StillliveswithmyparentsdowninGarden
Grove,butIseehimallthetime.Anyway,IdothesamethingformyclientsthatIdidforBriangrowing
up.Kindoffellintoit,Iguess,”hesmiled.

Myjawdropped.Icouldn’tbelievewhatIwashearing.
MyhearthadcompletelymeltedforBrodie.
Hesmiledatmelikeitwasbusinessasusual.“That’swhatIdothesedays.Betweenthatandmy

savings,Igetby.”

IwassuddenlyseeingBrodieinanentirelynewlight.“Thatisincredible,Brodie.”
“Nah.It’sjustmyjob.”
“Wow.Doyou,um,doyoueverworkwithwomen?Dowomenevengetautism?SorryifIsound

stupid.I’mjustcurious.”

“Nah,youdon’tsoundstupid.Butit’sfunnyyousaythat.Untilafewyearsago,there’sbeenalmost

zeroresearchaboutwomenwithautism,howtodiagnosethem,treatthem,allthat.Itusedtobewomenon
thespectrumwouldgetmisdiagnosedwithallkindsofothermentalhealthproblems.Borderline
personality,OCD,agoraphobia,bipolar,depression,anxiety,eatingdisorders,younameit.Allkindsof
wrongthings.NobodyknewitwasautismorAsperger’sunderneathitall.”

“Wow.”IwaspartiallywowingbecauseIcouldimaginehowharditmustbeforwomenwithautism

togetthehelptheyneeded,butIwasmainlywowingbecauseBrodieknewallthesefactsoffthetopof
hishead.Iwasdefinitelyimpressed.

“Iknow,right?Thegoodnewsis,nowadaysthere’sallkindsofstudieslookingintoitandthetherapy

strategiesarewaymoreeffective.”

“Doyouknowwhyittooksolongforsciencetorealizethatwomencanhaveautismtoo?Itjustseems

sobizarretheydidn’tknow.”

“Onekeythingthey’veworkedoutisthatgirlstendtogoundiagnosedbecausethey’realotbetterat

fakingsocialrelationships.Ontheoutside,theyseemnormal.It’swhat’sgoingoninsidethatmakesallthe
difference.”

“Oh?”
“Yeah.Theysayforagirlwithautism,thesocialpartofherbraincanbejustasactiveasthesocial

brainofanormalboythesameage.Buttheyaren’tboys.They’regirlstryingtorelatetoothergirls,and
girlsareallaboutrelationshipsandemotions.Sogirlswithautismhavetouseotherpartsoftheirbrains
tofigureouthowtoactinsocialsituations,whichstressesthemoutbecauseit’shardwork.It’slike
they’repretendingthey’resociablewhentheyaren’t.Theyforceeyecontact,forcebodylanguage,mimic
mannerisms,thatkindofthing.Someautisticwomensayit’ssortoflikedoingadvancedmathtosolve

everysocialsituation.Mathallthetime,wheneverthey’rearoundpeople.Itdoesn’tcomeeasilyor
naturallyforthem.Sotheyendupfeelingdisconnectedfromothergirls.They’dratherbealonereading
booksorplayingwithdollsorwhatever.Theycan’trelatetoallthatgossipysocialhierarchybullshitthat
normalwomenlovetoworryabout.Doesshelikeme,doesshehateme,arewefriends,arewefeuding?
Shit,Ican’tevenrelatetothatshit.”Hesmirkedandthecutestdimpletuggedatthecornerofhismouth.

“Meneither,”Ilaughed.“I’dratherreadabookorplaywithdolls.”
“You?Nah.Ican’tpictureyousittingaroundbyyourself.Toomanyguyschasingyouaround.You

probablyspendallyourtimefightingthemoff.”

“Somethinglikethat,”Ismiledabsentlyasmemoriesfrommychildhoodresurfaced.Brodiedidn’t

knowI’dbeenanerdgirlallmylife.Hedidn’tknowIlikedbooksbetterthanboysorevengirlsbecause
booksnevermadefunofmeorbulliedme.Hedidn’tknowthatwalkingdowntheShopkinsaisleat
TargetorgoingintotheDisneyStorefeltslightlylikeheaventome.Didthatmakemeautistic?

“Withhigh-functioningwomen,theycangocompletelyundiagnosedforyears.Wellintoadulthood.

Theycangotocollege,holddownajob,haveseeminglyfunctionalrelationships,everything.Wedidn’t
realizemysisterhadAsperger’suntilshewasthirty.”

“Wait,youhaveasistertoo?”
“Yeah.”
“Howoldisshe?”
“Now?Brennaisthirty-three.”
Brenna.
WherehadIheardthatnamerecently?Amemoryofawomanscreamingechoedthroughmybrain.Is

Brennaoneofyourclients?!Ordoyoufuckherforfree?!PlasticBlondehadscreamedthoseexact
wordsoutsideBrodie’sdooryesterday.

WasshetalkingaboutthesameBrenna?
Itwouldberudetoask,butIsuspecteditwas.Brennawasn’tanameyouheardeveryday.Wasit

possiblethatwholesceneoutsideyesterdaywasamisunderstanding?BasedonwhatBrodiehadjusttold
me,itseemedentirelypossible.WasitalsopossiblethatBrodiewasasweetheartunderneathhisbadboy
exterior?

MaybeIcouldaskhimindirectly.“IsBrennaoneofyourclients?”
Hesmiled,“Sheactslikeitsometimes,butno.Herworkishangingoutwithwomenheragewhodon’t

haveAsperger’s.Theydoshitlikegotothehairsalontogetherorgirl’snightout.Butwhenshegoesout
withouthertherapygroup,believeme,sheasksmeatonofquestionsafterward.Whatdiditmeanwhen
somebodysaidthis,orsomebodyactedlikethat?”Helaughed.“Ican’tbelievemyoldersisterasksme
foradviceabouthowtounderstandwomen.WhatthefuckdoIknow?It’spurecomedy.Anyway,Idomy
best.But,youknow,”heshrugged,“Ican’treallyteachherhowtobeagirl.YouknowwhatImean?”

IwassuddenlyconvincedthatBrodie’sBrennawasthesameonethatPlasticBlondehadbeen

shoutingabout.Ithadtobesomekindofmisunderstanding.Ihadtoknowforsure.

“Brodie,canIaskyousomething?”
“Sure.”
“Whowasthatwomanyellingoutsideyourapartmentyesterday?”
Inaninstant,hisfacedarkenedandhardened.“Ashleigh?Fuckthatbitch.Wait,didyouhearher?”
“Idid,”Isaidwithquietrespect.“Wassheyellingaboutyoursister?ShekeptsayingBrenna.”
Brodie’sfacesouredandheshookhishead.“Thatbitchwentthroughmyphone.Sawapictureofme

outwithBrennaandherfriendsatoneofherladiesnighttherapythings.Igosometimes.IthinkBrennais
tryingtosetmeupwithherfriends.Anyway,Brennahadafewdrinksthatnightandhadherarmaround
meinthepic.AshleighthoughtBrennawassomechickIwasfuckingontheside.Saidallkindsofnasty
shitabouther.Ahhh,fuckAshleigh.Totalbitch.Domeafavoranddon’tmentionhernameagain.Ican’t

fuckingstandher.”

“Didn’tyoutellheryouhadasister?”
“Hellno.SomeonelikeAshleighwouldn’tunderstand.Hell,Iwouldn’twanthertoevermeetBrenna.

AshleighwasthesamekindofpinheadwhotorturedBrennainhighschool.”

Quietly,Isaid,“Thenwhywereyousleepingwithher?”
Brodielookedatmeforalongtimebeforeshakinghishead.“Fuck,Idon’tknow.BecauseI’manidiot

withadickforbrains?”

“Buttforbrains,”Igrinned.
Hesmirked,“Right.”
Ismiledathim,suddenlywonderingwhothismanwasbeneathhisarrogantassholeexterior.Hewasa

mysterytome,butIwantedtofindoutmore.Alotmore.

“What,”hechuckled,glancingawaynervously,sodifferentfromthecockyBrodieIthoughtIknew.

TherealBrodiecouldbesomewhatshy.

“Nothing,”Imuttered.
BynothingImeanteverything.
MyentirebodywarmedwiththoughtsofBrodie.
Hesurewassomethingelse.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

“There’snomorechips!”Ishookthegreasypaperbagtwohourslater.We’dbeensittingatmydinner

tabletalkingaboutanythingandeverythingthisentiretime.“Youatethelastone!”

“Youdid.Youtookitfrommeanhourago.”
“Liar,”Igiggled.
“Whateveryousay,tortillathief.”Hesmiledatme.
Isighed.“Ihatetosaythis,butIshouldprobablygettobed.”
“Thataninvitation?”
“No!”Islappedhisrockhardshoulder,hurtingmyhandmorethanhim.“Ow!”Ishookmyhand.“Are

youmadeofsteel?”

“Vanadiumsteel,”heemphasized.“Ithasahighertensilestrengththanregularstainless.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Nerd.”
Helaughedandshrugged.
DespiteBrodie’sover-sexedpersona,therewasmoretohimthanmettheeyeandhewasadecentguy

underneath.Duringourconversation,he’dsharedmorestoriesaboutgrowingupwithanautisticbrother
andworkingwithhisclients.

“Ishouldproblygoanyway,”hesaid,standingupfromthetable.“Igottabeupprettyearlytomorrow.

MybuddyAlanneedstolearnhowtoridetheMetro.SoI’mtakinghimtomorrowmorningwhenthe
crowdsarelight.Gonnashowhimhowtobuytickets,figureoutwhichsideoftheplatformtostandon,
howtogetonandoffthetrain,wheretosit,whentogetoff.Youknow,subwaybasics.”

“Really?”
“Yup.Alanasksathousandquestionsabouteverylittlething,soIneedtobefocused.Thatmeans

sleep.”HegrabbedthealuminumtraysthatheldtheremnantsofourMexicanfood,waddedeverythingup,
andputitintheplasticbagthey’dcomeinbeforewanderingintomykitchenette.“Where’syourtrash?”

“Underthesink.”
“Foundit.”Hetosseditinandslappedthecupboarddoorshut.Thenhegrabbedaspongefromthe

sink,ransomewateronit,andwipedmytabledown.

“Youdon’thavetodothat.”
“Nowyoudon’teither.”Hewipedcrumbstotheedgeofthetableandcaughtthemwithhiscupped

hand,thenkeptwipingwiththewetspongeuntiltheentiretableglimmeredlikeanicerink.Hesmiled
whenhefinishedandIsmiledback.

Okay,okay.Brodiewasn’tevenclosetobeingtheshallowassheadI’dthought.Sometimesfirst

impressionswerewildlyinaccurate.

Iwalkedhimtomydoor,whichwasonlyfivefeetfrommydinnertable,butitfeltlikethepolitething

todo.

“Letmegetthedoorforyou,”Ilungedpasthimandgrabbedforthedoorknob.
“Igotit,”helungedatthesametimeandwrappedhishandaroundmine.Hishugebodyhoveredover

melikeaprotectiveshield.Heatradiatedfromhiminwaves.

AfountainofwarmthblossomedupmyarmfromwhereBrodie’shandtouchedmine,soakingmy

entirebody.Iturnedandlookedupathim.Hiseyessmoldered.Heswallowedhard.Ididtoo.

Washenervous?
Ididn’tknow,butIsurewas.
“Sorry,”hemuttered,droppinghishandfrommine.Hetookastepback.
Paralyzed,Istillheldthedoorknob.AllIcoulddowaslookathimandthink,Socialworker,life

saver,lovingbrother,whatotheramazingqualitiesdidthismanhave?Didthereneedtobemore?

Havinglostcompletecontrolofmybody,IcouldonlyobservemyselfasIleanedmybackagainstmy

door,stillclutchingthedoorknoblikeasafetyvalvethatIdesperatelywantedtoopenbutcouldn’t,no
matterhowhardItriedtoturnit.Therewasnowayformetoopenmydoorandreleaseallthetensionin
theroom.TheonlyotherthingIcouldopenatthatmomentwasmyheart,butIwasafraidtodothat.

Brodiemumbled,“Ishould…”Hesteppedtowardme.Iwasblockinghisway.
Iwasn’tgoingtokisshim.Iwasn’t.
SoIgrabbedthefrontofhisT-shirtinafistandtwisteditintoaknotandpulled.
Hedidn’tmoveaninchbuthestaredatmyfist.Thenstaredatme.Hiseyesburned.Myentirebody

burned.Mychestheavedwithdesire.InarrowedmyeyesinanangrychallengebecauseangerwaswhatI
felttowardhim.Repressedangerfrombefore,forthewayhe’dtreatedmeasplainJane,forthewayhe’d
treatedAshleighbeforeI’dheardthewholestory.Butmorethananything,Ifeltanundeniabledesireto
makethismanmine.

Igrowled,“Ihateyou,Brodie.”
Theblueembersofhiseyesflamedandhegruntedoncebeforeattackingme,slammingmeagainstthe

door.Hislipswereharsh,demanding.Histonguefoughtitswayintomymouth.Onceinside,Icouldn’t
resistitnomatterhowhardItried.ButIfoughtbackanyway,mytongueattackinghis.

Ahardhandgrabbedmybreast,squeezingmetotheedgeofpainbeforereleasingandmassaging.Then

hepinchedmyhardenednippleanddidthesame,twistingandreleasingattheedgeofintensity.

Stillwekissed.
Imoanedintohismouthandhookedmyanklearoundthebacksofhislegs.Tenfingersdugintomyass

andIhoppedup,wrappingbothlegsaroundhiswaist,openingmyselftohim.Hishoterectionground
againstthecrotchofmyjeansthroughhis.Ilacedmyarmsaroundhisneck,ourmouthsmeltingtogetheras
weswallowedeachotheralive.

Thisfelttoodamngoodtocontinue.
Ineverwantedittoend.
ButIhadtostopthis.IcouldneverbewithamanlikeBrodie.Peopledidn’tchange.Hemayhave

beenasocialworker,buthewasalsoashallowmanwhore.He’djustfuckedAshleigh,what,yesterday?
Andnowhewaskissingme?

No.
Toosoon.
ThiswasabouthimbeinghornyforhotsupermodelChelsea,notabouthimwantingme,plainJane

Johnson.

Mylegswentlax.
Ibrokeourkiss.“Stop,Brodie.Stop—”
Hesighedandleanedhisforeheadagainstthedoor.Hishandsonmyasssoftenedandheloweredme

tothefloorandhetookastepback.

Igrabbedthedoorknobagain,butitwouldn’tturn.
Wewerestuckrighthere,facetoface,undeniablepassionburningbetweenus.
Iwasverydisappointedinmypartofthispassion.HisIcouldunderstand.Butminewas…misplaced.

Opportunistic.

“Sorry.”Herakedahandthroughhishair,hidinghiseyes,staringatthefloor.“Ishouldn’thavekissed

you.Ineedtogo.”HereachedforthedoorknobandIreleasedit.Heturneditandopeneditandgrabbed
hismotorcyclehelmetoffthefloorbythedoorbeforewalkingoutwithoutlookingback.

Istoodthereinmyopendoorway,feelingthecoolnightbreeze.
Heturnedleft,stridingdownthebalconyawayfromhisapartment.Thebalconythuddedbeneathhis

boots.

Isteppedoutsideandhissed,“Brodie!Whereareyougoing?”Somehow,thisfeltlikearepeatofthe

firsttimeI’dmethim,whenhe’dbarelynoticedIexisted.Icringed,expectinghimtocasuallyflipmeoff
likeanafterthought.Ihatedmyselfforbeingsoweakandcaringaboutwhathethought.Iwasbetteroff
withouthim.

WasI?
“Brodie?”Itookastepinhisdirection,butheneverlookedback.
Whenhereachedthestairwell,hejoggedrightdown.Amomentlater,thefrontgateslammedshut.
Iwassoconfused,Ijuststoodthere.Itwaslate,sotheapartmentbuildingwasquiet.Onlyafew

scatteredlightswereoninahandfulofwindows.Almostallofthelightinthecourtyardcamefromthe
aquabluepoolbelow.

Outside,Brodie’smotorcycleenginerevvedangrilyseveraltimesbeforehetookoffdownthestreet,

theenginescreaming,tearingaholeinthesilenceofthenight.

Butnotmyheart.Iwouldn’tletthathappen.
Thesoundfadedintothedistancewithinseconds.
Whatthehellwashedoing?
Ishookmyhead.
WhatthehellwasIdoing?

Chapter20

Icouldn’tsleep.
Itossedandturnedrestlesslyforhours.
AllIcouldthinkaboutwasBrodie.
Ididn’twanttothinkabouthimbutIcouldn’tstopmyself.
Hewasterrible.
Hewaswonderful.
Hewasamistakewaitingtohappen.
Iwasn’tasupermodel.
Iwasalittlenerdgirl.
Brodiedidn’twantme.
Brodiewantedsomeoneelse.
Gettinginvolvedwithhimwasahorribleidea.
Ineededtoforgethim.
ButIwasworriedabouthimandhismotorcycle.
Whatifhedidsomethingstupidbecauseofme?
Whatifheendedupdead?
WhatifIlookedlikeasupermodelfortherestofmylifeandhadthereforejustsabotagedsomething

special?

WhatifIwasanidiotandallofthiswasadreamandI’dwakeuptomorrowlookinglikeregularold

me?

Iflippedontomystomachandpulledmypillowovermyhead.Mybreathquicklyheatedupmyface

andItossedmypillowaside.Ididn’trememberdreamseverbeingthisvivid.

Iwasawake.
Allofthiswasreal.
Impossible,butstillreal.
Ifloppedbackontomyback,staringatthedarkceiling.
IimaginedBrodie’sweightontopofme.
Iwantedhimgrindingbetweenmylegs.
Insideme.
Fighting.Thrusting.Grinding.
Iwanted…
wanted…
Asoftknockatmyfrontdoor.
Brodie?
Iswingmyfeetontothefloorandstandup.
Theknockcomesagain.
Myfeetwhisperacrossmycarpet.IwearonlymyTwilightSparklenightshirt.Notevenpanties.

ButIalwayssleepinpanties.

Anothersoftknock.
Iopenthedoorwithoutcheckingtoseewhoitis.
Brodie.

Shirtlessinjeansjetblackenedbynight.Brodieisalwaysshirtless.
“Ineedyou,C.C.”Hesweepsintomyapartmentandwhisksmeoffmyfeet.
Ifloatintomybedroom,cradledinhismuscledarms.
Helaysmeonthebedgently.
Myshirtisoff.
Hisjeansareoff.
Iopentohim.
Acoolbreezeacrossmywetness.
Hecrawlsontothebed,erect.
Hehoversoverme,hisarmsmuscledpillarsoneithersideofmyhead.
Hishotheavycockslidesagainstmywetness.
“Ineedyou,C.C.Needyounow.”Hisvoiceisdesperateanddemandingatthesametime.“Ineed

tobeinsideyourightfuckingnow.”

Inod,andmoan,bitingmylowerlip.
Hesinksintome,hot,hard,deep,full,andthick.
MybodyquiversandImoaneachtimehethrusts.
HeslowfucksmeuntilIstarttocome.
Theorgasmissointensemyearsring—

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

RING!
Myphonetoremeoutofmydream.Iclampedmyeyesshut,desperatelytryingtoremainasleep.The

intenseorgasmthathadbeenbuildingstartedtofade,despitemycirclingindexfingerandmydripping
wetness.IthinkI’dbeenluciddreamingandhadstartedmasturbating.IfIfocused,Icouldeasilybring
myselftoaclimax.ButIneededtogetbackintomydream.Itriedtorelaxandrecallthefabricofmy
fantasy.

Brodiehadbeenthrustingintome,hisfacetightwithsexualhungerandpredatorydesire…
RING!
Myphoneagain.
Damnit.
RING!
Ineededtochangemyringtonetosomethingmorepleasant.
RING!
“What?!”Ishoutedtotheemptyroom.
RING!
Somuchformyorgasm.
Iansweredmyphoneandyelledatit,“What?!”
“Morning,Sunflower.”ItwasWes.“DidIwakeyou?”
“Yesyouwokeme,”Igrowled,myeyessqueezingshut.“Iwas…”havinganincrediblesexdream

whichyouruined.Suddenguiltseizedme.Talkingtoanattractivemansecondsaftermasturbatingto
thoughtsofanothermanwasvery…unseemly.AtleastWeshadn’tseenmegoingtotownwithmyfingers
allupinmyho-ha.Thatthoughtonlyfueledmyembarrassment,leavingmespeechless.

“Youwerewhat?”
“Nothing,”Iwhispered.
“Idon’tmeantorushyou,Sunflower,butcanyoumeetmeinBeverlyHillsinanhour?”

Iopenedoneeyeacrackandlookedatthetimeonmyphone.Itwas8:30amSundaymorning.I

grumbled,“Wes,whythehellareyoucallingmethisearly?I’mnotevenawakeyet.”

“Areyoustillinbed?”
“No.I’monthetoiletpooping.”
“Noyou’renot.It’scommonknowledgethatwomenasbeautifulasyoudon’tpoop.”
“That’sridiculous,”Ilaughed.“Butyou’reright,I’mnotpooping.ButIamstillinbed.”
“Sotellmewhatyou’rewearing.”
“Apotatosack.”
Hechuckled.“Ibetitlooksdamngoodonyou.”
“Whatdoyouwant,Wes?”
“Weneedtogetyouadress.”
“Youneversaidanythingaboutadress.”
“Ijustdid.”
“Twosecondsagodoesnotcountassufficientwarning.”
“Itdoesinmybook.”
“Areyoualwaysthisirritatingfirstthinginthemorning?”
Hechuckled.“No.Justtoday.So,weneedtogetyourdressnow.Oryoucanjustshowupinyour

potatosacktonight.Iwon’tmind.Butpeoplemightstare.”

“Haha.”
“Eitherway,weneedtogetajumponit.Sochopchop,”hejoked.
“Thisisstartingtosoundalotlikework,Wes.”
“Itis.Butthatdoesn’tmeanitwon’tbemildlyamusing.”
“Mildly?”
“Wealsoneedtimetogetyourhairandmakeupdone.”
“Whoa.Slowdown,Turbo.Whosaidanythingaboutallthat?Can’tIjustputonsomeeyeliner?”
“Youneedtolooknice.Hair,makeup,andthedress.”
“Hownice?”Ididn’thaveanyeveningdressesthatfitmynewbody,butIcouldalwaysswingby

Goodwillwhentheyopened.

“Niceenoughtodojusticetotherestofyou.”
Okay,Iwasamusedbyhiscompliment.“IsadressfromGoodwilloutofthequestion?”
Helaughed.
“Wow,Wes.You’reanexpensivedate.”
“Thedressisonme.”
“Ican’ttakeyourmoneyforadress,Wes.”
“Shutupandlistentome,Sunflower.You’llbeborrowingthedress,okay?”
“AreyougoingtoreturnitafterIwearit?”
“No.Itdoesn’tworklikethat.”
“ThenIcan’t—”
“Sunflower,willyoujustdothisasafavortome?Canyoudothat?”
AfterlastnightwithBrodie,Iwasn’tsureIwasreadyforanightoutwithWes.Thingscouldget

confusingveryquickly.Ididn’tdolovetriangles.ButIhadpromisedWesI’dbehisdateforhisthing,and
thatwasbeforeBrodiehadsavedmefromLestertheMolesterandthentoldmehewasasecret
sweetheart,andnoneofthatwasWes’fault.I’dmadeWesapromiseandIfeltobligedtokeepit.I
smearedmyhandacrossmyfaceandgrumbled,“Fine.Wherearewegoingagain?”

Hesighed.“Doyouwanttodothisthingornot?Icanalwaysgostag.”Iwasflatteredhedidn’t

threatentotakesomeoneelselikehehadyesterday.“ButI’dratherbringyou.Armcandy,remember?I’d
liketohavesomethingalittlebitnicerthanLadyGodivaonmyarm.”

“NicerthanGodiva?”
“Thatwouldbeyou,Sunflower.”
Igrinnedtomyself.Okay,Icouldbearmcandyforonceinmylife.Butjustonce.Igroanedintothe

phone.“Fine.GivemethedirectionsandI’llbethere.”

“Makesureyoushowerfirst.”
“Geez,Wes!DoIsmellorsomething?”
“Ihaven’tsmelledyoutoday.Yesterdayyousmelledlikeanangel,butwhoknowsabouttoday?Forall

Iknow,youwenttohotyogawithabunchoffartingsmellyhippiesandhaven’tshoweredsince.You
don’tsmelllikefarts,doyou?”

“Wes!”
Hechuckled.“Sorry.”
“Ididn’tgotohotyoga!AndIdon’tsmelllikefarts!”
“I’msureyoudon’t,Sunflower.Domeafavorandpleaseshowernow.Youwon’thavetimelater.”
“Howlongisthisdressthinggoingtotake?”
Hesighed.“Ishould’vetoldyouyesterdaythattodayisgoingtobealongday.Ifyouwanttotakea

raincheck,I’llcompletelyunderstand.”Hewasbeingirritatinglyunderstandingandcalmaboutthis.

“Atthispoint,I’mseriouslyconsideringdoingmytaxestodayinsteadofwhateveryouhaveplanned.

Andlaundry.Andcleaningmytoilet.”

Hisvoicegrinned,“Ipromise,thiswillbebetterthantaxesortoilets.”
“Whatcouldbebetterthanthat?”
Hechuckled,“Areyouinorout,Sunflower?”
Igroaned,“Youareveryannoying.”
“Inorout?”
Istuckmytongueoutandgrimacedformyownbenefit.Hewasmakingsuchabigdealoutofwhatever

todaywas,andyesIwascurious.Icouldn’tbelieveIwasfallingforhisMr.Mysteryroutine,butIwas.
“Fine,I’llgo.Butifthisthingturnsouttobelame,I’mbailing.”

“Deal.Ifit’slameenough,I’llbailwithyou.”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

WorriedthatWeswouldsendGavintopickmeup,I’dtoldWesI’dbestandingbyastopsignatthe

endofmystreetonBroadway.IfGavinshowedup,Ididn’twanthimseeingmestandinginfrontofJane’s
building.HemightaskquestionslikeagoodMI5agentwould.

IworethecheappleatherbikerjacketI’dgotatGoodwillaspartofFriday’shaul,awhiteprintshirt

withblackgraphics,andaplaidskirt.SinceI’dforgottentobuysexyheels,IworetheChuckTaylorsI’d
boughtforfivebucks.Itwasamazingwhat$85wouldgetyouattheSantaMonicaGoodwill.AndIhad
onblacklacyVictoria’sSecretunderneath.I’dneverwornthongsinthepast,butnowIhadthebodyfor
it,sowhynot?Andspeakingof,whenI’dshowered,I’dplannedonshavingmylegsfortoday,butguess
what?Mynewbodydidn’tseemtoneedit.MyswansformationdidhavecertainbenefitsIcouldn’tdeny.
Evenmyarmpitsweresilkysmooth.Gofigure.

AblueLamborghinirumbleddownBroadwayandpulleduptothecurbwiththetopdown.Itwasthe

convertibleIrememberedfromWes’mansion.Hesmiledatmeoverhisaviatorshades.Helookedlikehe
hadn’tshavedsinceyesterday(whichmeanthisstubblewaseventhicker),heworeafadedGunsN’
RosesT-shirt,andjeanswithholesinthekneesthatlookedjustasgenuineastheshirt.

“Damn,woman.Nicepotatosack.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Willyoushutup?”

Hechuckled.
Istaredathimpointedly.
“What?”
“Aren’tyousupposedtogetthedoorforme?”
Hesmiled,“Ithoughtyouweregonnacomearoundandgetthedoorforme.”
“Butyou’realreadyinthecar,genius.”
“Imeantsoyoucoulddrive.”Hesteppedout,wavingmearound.Iwalkedaroundthecarandnoticed

heworerattyflip-flopsthatwereontheirlastdays.

“Niceshoes,”Iquipped.IlikedthatWescoulddressdownandlooknaturaldoingit.Hedidn’tlook

likearichpersonpretendingtobenormalbywearingbrandnewdistresseddesignerclothes.Heworethe
realdeal.

“Getin,”henoddedtowardthedriver’sseat.
“Areyousureaboutthis,Wes?”
“Youknowhowtodrivestick,don’tyou?”
“No!”
Hewinked,“Don’tworry.It’ssemi-automatic.”
“Isn’tthatatypeofgun?”
“Notinthiscase.Itmeansyoudon’thaveaclutch.Don’tworry,it’seasy.”
“I’mnotdrivingyourcar.WhatifIcrash?”
“Youwon’tcrash.Hopin.”
“Ihopeyourinsuranceispaidup.”Reluctantly,Iclimbedinandheclosedmydoorbeforestrolling

aroundtothepassenger’ssideandslidinginbesideme.

NowthatIwasbehindthewheel,Ireallyfeltoutofmyelement.Thisdefinitelywasn’tmyHyundai.

Wesexplainedthebasiccontrolslikethebuttonsonthesteeringwheelforturnsignalsandtheshifter
leversbehindthesteeringwheelontheleftandright,withineasyreachofmyfingers.

Isaid,“Okay,howdoIstartit?Where’sthekey?”
“Thereisnokey.Putyourfootonthebrake,liftthisredcapandpressthebutton.”Heflippedupared

buttoncoveronthecenterconsoleandpointed.

“Itlookslikethelaunchbuttonforanuclearmissile.”
Hegrinned.“Ithinksixhundredhorsepowerqualifiesasanuke.”
“Sixhundred?”Gulp.
“Yeah.Nowfirethisthingupandlet’sgetrolling.”
“IfIcrashandkillbothofuswiththisnuclearmissileofyours,I’mgoingtokillyouasecondtime.

Maybeevenathird.”

“Relax,Sunflower.Juststartit.”
Ipressedthebuttonandtheengineroared.“Geez,itsoundslikethere’samonsterunderthehood.”
“Thereis.Don’tmakehermad.She’sarealbitch,”hewinkedatme.
Ismirkedback.“What’sthisredbuttononthebottomofthesteeringwheel?Isthatanejectorseatfor

youforwhenyougettooannoying?”

“No.That’sthedrivingmode.Justleaveitsettostrada.Streetmode.It’llshiftforyouautomatically

soyoudon’thavetoworryaboutit.”

“Soit’snotanejectorseatforyou?”
“No.”
“You’resure?”Isaiditseriously,likeacourtroomlawyer.
Hesmiled,“Yes.Youreadytodrive?”
Isighed,“AsI’lleverbe.”
“Keepyourfootonthebrakeandpullontherightlevertoputitindrive.”

IdidandthecarimmediatelystartedtopullsoIpushedharderonthebrake.ThenIsignaled,waited

foranSUVtodriveby,thenpulledontothestreet.Iwassoscared,Ikeptthecarataround15milesan
hour,eventhoughthespeedlimitwas25.IttookafewblocksbeforeIgotusedtothebrakesandthegas,
butIfigureditout.

AtthestopsignforSantaMonicaBoulevard,Isaid,“Wherearewegoing?”
“Headeast.TowardBeverlyHills.”
“Okay.”
WhenIpulledsmoothlyintotraffic,Weschuckled,“WatchoutDanicaPatrick,SunflowerSimmonsis

behindthewheel!”

“IsDanicaPatrickthatstockcardriver?”
“Thesame.Butatthisspeed,Ithinkshecouldoutrunyouonfoot.”
Weweredoing35,whichwasthespeedlimit.Ismirked,“Areyoutriplesurethisisn’tanejector

button?”Iclickedmynaillightlyontheredbuttononthewheel.

“Sadly,no.”Hewinked,“You’restuckwithmeallday,Sunflower.”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

PeoplestaredatusintheLamborghiniateverystoplight,especiallyafterwegottoBeverlyHills.Wes

didn’tseemtonotice.Ifounditabitnervewracking,butImanagedtogetustooursecretdestination
withoutanaccident.

WeshadmeparkonasidestreetnearabunchofshopsjustoffofSantaMonicaBoulevard.Hejumped

outandgotmydoorformeandledmeupthesidewalk.

“Wherearewegoing?”Iasked.
“You’llsee.”
“Whyallthemystery?”
“Mysteryismoreinteresting.”
“Morelikeirritating.”
“Areyouoneofthosepeoplewhoskipstotheendofabooksoyouknowhowit’sgonnaturnout?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe.Sometimes.”
Hesmiledandstoppedonthesidewalk.“Hereweare.”
Westoodinfrontofaboutiqueydressshop.Itdidn’thaveasignonthebigwindowanditlooked

closed.

Wesopenedthedoor.“Afteryou,Sunflower.”
Iwalkedinside.Thecolorpalettewasneutralgraysandthedecorwasverysparewithoutlooking

empty.Twocircularsteelgraycouchessatinthecenteroftheroom.Onlyafewdresseshungontwoshort
racksononewall.Thedressesweremostlyblackorwhite,butafewreddressesgavetheneutralrooma
popofcolor.Ontheotherwallstoodtwospaciousshelveswithvariousredandblackpumpsandhigh
heels.Betweenthemwasaglasscaseholdingredandblackdesignerhandbagsthatlookedpricey.
Throughouttheroom,tracklightingaimedartfulspotlightsonthedisplays.Theentireeffectofthe
boutiquewasoneofunifieddesign.

WesandIlookedcompletelyoutofplaceinourrattystreetclothes.
“Thisisn’tGoodwill,”Imutteredbecauseitwasmuseumquietinhere.
RightwhenIsaidit,atallwomanwalkedoutfromtheback.Shelookedsixtyishandworewhat

lookedlikeavintage1950sredcouturesuitjacketandmatchingdress.ThejackethadadeepVneckand

bigredbuttons.Astringofpearlsloopedtwicearoundherneck.Thedresswaslong,thehembelowher
knees.Despitethedatedsilhouette,itwasverystylish.Anddespiteherage,sheworeitwiththefinesse
andconfidenceofarunwaymodel.InresponsetomycommentaboutGoodwill,whichshe’dheard,she
rolledhereyesandsnorted,“Hardly.”

“Sorry,Ididn’tmean…”Shewassocommanding,andatleastsixfeettallinhertwoinchpumps,I

couldn’thelpbutfeelcowedaroundher.Iresistedtheurgetocurtsy,eventhoughitfeltliketherightthing
todo.

SheignoredmeandwalkeduptoWesandairkissedhimonbothcheeks.“Hello,darling.”Despiteher

height,Weshadtoleandownfortheairkiss.

“Andhellotoyou,Cruella,”Wessaidwithahugesmile.
Hernamecouldn’tpossiblybeCruella.Shedidn’thavethetrademarkedblackandwhitehair.Hers

wassilverandpulledupelegantly.Andshewasregal,notcruel.Sheturnedtomeandsaidloudenough
forWestohear,“Ignorehim.He’sachild.”Hereyesdartedtowardhimandshesuppressedagenuine
smilebeforeofferingherhandtometoshake.“YoucancallmeMadeline.Buthecan’t.Hehastocallme
Mrs.Kettner.”

Ishookherhand.“I’mJuh—”I’dalmostsaidJane.“—justcallmeChelsea.”Phew,thatwasclose.

Beingsomeoneelsewassomethingyouhadtostayontopoforyou’driskslippingup.MaybeIneededto
standinfrontofmymirroreverymorningsayingChelsea,Chelsea,Chelsea.No,thatwaswaytooweird.

Madelineputherhandsonherhips.“Shallwegetstarted?Wedon’thavemuchtime.”
“Doyourworst,”Wessaid.
Shesmirkedatme,“Don’tlethischarmfoolyou.Hereallyisasincorrigibleashe’sacting.”Despite

hercommandingpresence,Icouldn’thelpbutlikeher.“Comewithme,Chelsea.”Shegrabbedmyhand.
“Wescanwaitouthere.”Sheshotaglareathim.“Anddon’tsitonmycouchinthosedirtyjeans,young
man.”

“ThesejeanssatinmyLambo,Madeline.”
“Idon’tcareaboutyourcar.AndstopcallingmeMadeline.Haveyounorespectforyourelders?”
“LasttimeIchecked,youwereonlytwenty-nine…forthethirtiethtime.Andthatmakesmeyourelder

bytwoyears.”

Shesmiled,“Anddon’tyouforgetit.Nowkeepyourhandstoyourselfandseeifyoucan’tlearnsome

mannerswhilethewomenareworking.”Assheledmedownalonghallwayintotheback,she
whispered,“WhatdidItellyouabouthischarm?”

“Don’tfallforit?”
“Youlearnquick,”shechuckled.“Ilikeyoualready.”
Thelargebackroomwasacombinationfittingroomanddesignstudio.Dressformswithandwithout

dresseslinedonewall.Alongworktabletookuphalftheroom.Severalsewingmachinesstoodinthe
corner.Tallwindowsandseveralskylightsletinamplenaturallight.

Ayoungbaldguywithaperfectlytrimmedblackbeardandmustachesatonastoolwithameasuring

tapedrapedaroundhisneck.Heworeslacksandasuitvestoverawhiteshirtwithrolledupsleeves.

Madelinesaid,“ThisisJean-Paul,mytailor.”
Hestoodupandshookmyhand,“Pleasure,mademoiselle.”HisaccentwasveryFrenchanditcame

outasPleazhure,mad-mwa-selle.

“Chelsea,”Ismiled.
Madelinestoodwithherhandsonherhips,lookingatthedressesontheforms.Allwereevening

gownsthatdrapeddowntothefloorandalllookedlikeclassycouture.“Whichonedoyouthink,Jean-
Paul?”

“Onher?Moncher,mayweseeyouwithoutyourjacket?”Hesaidit,zhacket.
“Sure.”Ishruggeditoff.Iwould’vetosseditontheworktable,butIdidn’twanttoberude,soIheld

itatmywaist.

Jean-Paulwalkedupandtookit,hangingitontheclothingrackbehindme.Hepickedupthehemof

myskirtandflounceditfromsidetoside,lookingatmyhipsandassashewalkedaroundme,thenletit
dropbeforetakingastepback.

Madelinestoodacrosstheroom,herarmsfolded,onefingerbrushingthebottomofherchin.“Chelsea

darling,beadearandtakeoffthathideousT-shirtandskirt,ifyoudon’tmind.”

Thatwouldleavemeinmybraandpanties.“Uh…”
“Don’tworryaboutJean-Paul,heplaysfortheotherteam.”
“Um…”Iwasn’tusedtostrippingforanybody.Itdidn’tmatterifJean-Paulwasgayornot.Ididn’t

wantMadelinescrutinizingmybodyeither.

Shearchedhereyebrowstosay,Youcanstripanytimeyou’reready.
“Okay,”Isaidnervously.IpeeledmyT-shirtoffanddroppeditonthefloorbeforepushingmyskirt

downandkickingitaside.IremindedmyselfIwasn’tme,Iwasasupermodelwithaperfectbodyand
nothingtopickat,butIstillfeltlikeanidiotinnothingbutmyunderwearandmyChuckTaylors.

“Spinforus,darling,”Madelinesaid.
AlthoughIsuddenlyfeltlikeanobjectondisplay,atleastIdidn’tfeellikeasexualone.Morelikean

artobject,orsoItoldmyself.Ispunaroundslowly.

Jean-PaulsaidtoMadeline,“Shehasaterrificfigure.Weshouldn’thideitwiththeA-line.”
“Iagree.Howabouttheredtrumpetdress?”
“Withallthatcleavage?Shemightbeabitmuchforit.”
Icouldn’tbelievetheywerediscussingmyboobslikeIwasn’tevenintheroom.
Madelinesaid,“We’lltapeherinifwehaveto.Idoubtthistownhasseenrealboobsthisnicesince

MarilynMonroe.”

“BrigitteBardot,”Jean-Pauladded.
“Hertoo.”
MarilynMonroe?BrigitteBardot?Whatweretheytalkingabout?
“Comehere,darling.”Madelinewavedmeovertoaredgownononeofthedressforms.“Let’sget

youintothis.”

Afewminuteslater,withthehelpofJean-PaulandMadeline,Istoodontopofasmallsixinchstand,

wearingtheredgownandfacingasemi-circleoffloorlengthmirrors.Thenecklineinfrontplungedway
pastmyboobs,stoppingjustabovemynavel.TheopenV-backplungeddownalmosttomyass.Itwalked
thatfinelinebetweensexyandtrashywithoutgoingtoofar.Thegownwasformfittingandyoucouldsee
allofmysupermodelcurves,butitwasstillclassy.

“Wow,”Ilaughed.“Thisisreallynice.”
“Jean-Paul,”Madelinesaid,“doyouhavetimetotakeinthewaist?Chelseahasquitethehourglass

figureandIdon’twanttoloseitinthematerial.”

Henodded.“Oui.”
“Fuck…me,”Wessaid,startlingeveryone.Hestoodinthedoorway,handsinthepocketsofhisjeans,

staringatme.“Damn,Sunflower.Youlookincredible.”

“DoIneedtogogetthesoap,youngman?”Madelinechortled.
Wessmiled,“YoudothatwhileIkeeplookingatChelsea.Wow.”Heshookhishead,eyestraveling

alloverme.“Iknewyouhadabodyunderyourclothes,Sunflower,butthisis…thisisunreal.”

Iblushed.
WeswalkedpastMadelineandstrolledaroundme,eyeingmycleavage.Iwaspracticallyfallingout.

Hewhistledaperfectrisingandfallingwolfwhistle.

Jean-Paulsnickered.
Madelinerolledhereyes.“DoIneedtohaveJean-Paulescortyououtofhere,Wesley?”

“It’snotlikeshe’sthebrideandwe’regettingmarried.IcanlookallIwant.”Despitehisrattyclothes,

hewassodamnhandsomehecouldlookalldaylongandIwouldn’tmind.Thepredatoryglimmerinhis
eyessaidthiswolfwasreadytodine.

“Out,Wesley,”Madelinecommanded,foldingherarmsoverherchest.
Wessmirkedashewalkedout,stoppingatthedoorframe.“Theonlythingis,Madeline,Ican’tdecide

whichofyouishotterinyourreddresses.”Heranhiseyesalloverher.“Icouldtakeabiteoutofbothof
you.”

“Wesley!!”

Chapter21

Backinmystreetclothes,WeswhiskedusacrossBeverlyHillsinhisLamborghini.Sincewewerein

ahurry,Ithoughtitbetterthathedrive.Wepulleduptoacurbanddaytimevaletsranuptothecar,
openingourdoors.

“Whatnow?”Iaskedaswestoodonthesidewalk.
“Nowwegetyourhairstyled.”
Ilookedupatthesign.“ThisistheLucaRossiSalon.Haircutsherecostliketwohundredbucks.”
“EvenmorewhenLucacutsyourhairhimself.”
“What?No,Wes.Can’twejustgotoSupercuts?TheyhaveoneinWestwoodnearUCLA.Wecouldbe

thereinlikefiveminutes.”

“HaveyoueverevenbeentoSupercuts?They’rebutchers.Iwouldn’tsendmydogthere.”
“Youhaveadog?”
“Focus,Sunflower.”Hepointedatthedoor.“Haircut.Inside.Now.”
“Can’twegosomeplacecheaper?”
“No.Lucaiscuttingyourhair.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,fine.ButdoyoureallymeantotellmetheownerofoneofthetrendiestsalonsinBeverlyHills

worksonaSunday?”

“HedoesthisSunday.”
Wesplacedhishandonthesmallofmybackandledmethroughthedoors.
Theinteriorwasshadesofwhitewithmetallicaccents.Thesalonchairsandtableswereboxy,the

mirrorssquare.Customerssatinmostofthechairs.Theirstylistsworesilverygrayuniformsandwere
busycuttingandstylingwhileeveryonechatted.

Weswalkedusuptothegirlsittingbehindthecubeshapedreceptiondeskandsaid,“Wehavean

appointmentwithLuca.”

SheswipedherfingeronaniPadmountedbehindthecounter.“AreyouMr.Callaway?”
“That’sus.”
“HaveaseatandLucawillberightwithyou.”Shestoodup.“Wouldyoutwolikesomewater?”
Wesdeferredtome.
“Sure,”Isaid.“I’mkindofparched.Icoulduseaglass.”
ThereceptionistsmiledandwalkedintoasquarishsidenookwhileWesandIsatdownonaboxy

whiteleathercouchinthewaitingarea.Aminutelater,shereturnedwitharectangularsilvertraythatheld
twosquareglasseswithsphericalicecubesandasquarecarafe.Shesetthetrayonthelowroundtablein
frontofus.

Whenthereceptionistwentbacktohersquarechair,IsaidtoWes,“Whyaretheicecubesandthe

tableroundwheneverythingelseinhereissquare?”

“Contrast,”hesaid.
“Goodpoint.”
Hepouredwaterintobothglassesandhandedmeone.“Cheers.”
Weclinkedglasses.
BeforeItookasip,Isaid,“Howdotheymakeroundicecubesanyway?”

“Ithinkthey’rethetearsofangels.Theyfreezeintheupperatmosphereastheyfallfromheaven.”
“Shutup,”Ilaughed.
“Wes!Howgoodtoseeyou!”Ahandsomemaninhisfortieswitholiveskinandblackhairwalkedup

tous,armswide.Unlikethestylists,heworeblack.

Wesstoodupandhuggedhim.“Hey,Luca.Goodtoseeyou.Youreadytocutsomehair?”
“Alwaysforyou,myfriend.”LucahadaveryItalianaccent.Helookedatme.“Isthisher?Sheis

beautiful.”

“You’retellingme,”Weschuckled,lookingdownatmeonthecouch.
Istoodup,embarrassed.Nobodyevertalkedaboutmelikethis.Theydidn’teventalkaboutChelsea

likethis.Well,maybesometimes.Eitherway,itwaskindofridiculous.

“Bella,”Lucasaid,armswide.
Inervouslysteppedintohisembraceandhehuggedmepassionately.Ipattedhisback,notsurewhatto

do,buthereleasedmejustasquick.Heranahandthroughmyblondehair.“Yourhairisnearlyperfect,
Bella.Whyarewecuttingit,Wes?”

“Weneeditstyledfortonight.”
“Sí,sí,sí.Isokaywithyou,Bella?”
“It’sChelsea,”Igiggled.
Wesleanedtowardme,“BellaisbeautifulinItalian.”Wessaidthewordbellawiththesameaccent

Lucahad.

Lucalaugheddeeply.“Yes,whileyouarehere,wecallyouBella,no?”
“Uh,yes?No?Bellaisfine,”Igiggled.
Lucabeamed.“Shallwegettowork?”
Fiveminuteslater,Iworeablacksilksalonrobebeltedatmywaistandsatbackwithmyheadinone

oftheroundsalonsinkslinedupintherearoftheroom.AstylistnamedFabianawasbusyworking
shampoointomywethair.

“Icanhandleitfromhere,”Wessaid.
“Isokay?”Fabianaaskeduncertainly.ShesoundedItaliantoo.
MyeyeshadbeenclosedbuttheypoppedopenwhenFabianapulledherfingersaway.
Wes’facehoveredaboveme.
“Icanseeyournosehairs,”Isnarked.Icouldn’t.Hewashandsomeevenfromthisangle.ButIwasn’t

tellinghimthat.

“Noyoudon’t,becauseItrimthem,”hesaidconfidently.
“Eww!Youhavenosehairs?!”
“Youdotoo.Icanseethem.”Hiseyeswerelockedonmynose.
Icovereditwithmyhand.“NoIdon’t!”
“Everybodyhasthem,Sunflower.ButyoursarethesexiestnosehairsI’veeverseen,”hesmiled.“If

you’reworried,I’msurewecanhaveFabianawaxthemafterIfinishwashingyourhair.”

“Dopeoplereallydothat?”
“InBeverlyHills,peoplewaxeverything.NowwouldyourelaxsoIcanshampooyourhair?”
“Fine.ButIhopeyouknowwhatyou’redoing.”
“Ido,”Wessaidconfidently.
Fabianapursedherlipsandarchedadoubtfuleyebrow.
Heignoredher.Hiseyeslockedonmineasheworkedhisfingersintomywethair,massagingmy

scalplikeapro,asmugsmileonhisfacethewholetime.AnytensionI’dhadfromrunningaroundtown
meltedawayatthetouchofhisfingers.MyentirefaceandneckwarmedandIrelaxeduntilmyeyes
closedandIeasedintoenjoyment.

Thiswasacompleteturnon.

“Imaginewhatitwouldfeellikeifthiswasyourpussy,”Wessaidjustloudenoughformetohear.
Myfaceburnedred.“Wes!”
Hechuckledthroatily.
“Listentohim,”Fabianasaid,shakingherheadandgrinning.
Wessmiledather,“Canwehaveaminute,Fabiana?”
“Ofcourse,”shewavedherhandandwalkedaway,leavingustheonlytwopeopleinthesinkarea.
Wes’handskneadedandstrokedmyscalp.
ItfeltsogoodIcouldn’thelpbutmoan.
Weschuckled,“Ilikethatsound.”
Iwasdrippinginhishands.Thiswasthemostsexualnon-sexualtouchingI’deverexperienced.
“Ibetyourheadisn’ttheonlythingthat’swet,”hesaid.
“Youwish,”Imoaned.Hewassoright.Ididmybestnottosquirminthechair.Myentirebody

flutteredwithwarmgustsofpleasure.“Youcandothisalldayifyouwant.”

“Oh,you’llcomelongbeforethen.”
Myeyespoppedopen.
Histwinkleddownatme.
Mynippleswerehardanddyingforhistouch.Mybreaststingledtoo,andeverythingsouthofmy

navelwasthrobbing,pulsatingintimewithhiscirclingfingers.

“Youcan’tmakemecomelikethis,”Ilied.
“Wouldyouliketoseemetry?”
Yes.“No.”
“Toobad.”Heleaneddownuntilwewerecheektocheek.Hisearthyscenthadasmokyqualitythat

permeatedmysensesandsentsexsignalsstraighttomyclit,whichwassizzlingwithhimthisclose.And,
mypussyslowlyclenchedeachtimehisfingerscircledmyscalp.Hewhispered,“You’regoingtoliehere
andI’mgoingtomakeyourain.”

Hiswordswhoosheddownmychestandstormedbetweenmylegs.Histhumbsbrushedeversogently

alongmyjawline,thendancedacrossmyears.Everysinglecellinmybodyexplodedathistouch.I
shivereddowntomytoes.Ifhedidn’tstop,IswearIwasgoingtocomeinsideoffiveseconds.

Itoccurredtomethatwehadneverkissedoranythingevenclose.DidIreallywantthisgorgeousman

thatIbarelyknewgettingmeoffinthebackofahairsalon?

Maybejustalittle.
Maybejustalot.
“Areyourainingyet?”Hemurmuredinmyear.
“Ohhh,”Imoaned,onthevergeofanorgasm.
“Herecomestherain…”
“Yes,”Iwhispered.
WarmwetwaterraineddownonmyheadasWesrinsedmyhairwiththesprayhose.Thesoundofthe

watersprayechoinginthesinkwhiskedawaythemountingsexualtensioninmybody.

IscrunchedmyfaceasmypleasureleftmeandIgiggled,“Youass!”
“Isyourpussypulsing?”heaskedinnocentlyasherinsedawaymoreshampoo,stillrunninghisfingers

sensuallythroughmyhair.

Yes.“Notforyou,”Isneered.
“Butbecauseofme.”
Yes.“Youwish.”
Hesnickeredashefinishedwiththesprayhose.Waterdribbledintothesinkashegentlysqueezedout

myhair.Whenhefinished,heshookhishandsintothesinkandsaid,“Areyoustilldripping?”

“Whatdoyouthink?”

Hegrabbedatowelandstartedblottingmyhair.“Thebestwayformetocleanuptherestofyouis

withmytongue.”Heglancedatmycrotch.“ButIdon’tthinkLucawouldappreciateit.”Hewrappeda
freshwarmtowelaroundmyheadandsatmeup.

Nowhiscrotchwasrightinmyface.
Hewasfullyerectinhisrattyjeans.
“Areyouenjoyingyourself?”Isnorted.
“Doesn’titshow?”
Icouldeasilyreachup,unbucklehisbelt,pullhimout,andgototown.Butwewereinacrowded

salon.SoIstaredupathim.“Doyouhaveamagnifyingglass?Ican’treallytell.”

HewassizableandIwaslying.
“Areyoufinishedyet?”Fabianaaskedasshewalkedintothesinkarea.
“Fornow…”Wessaidsuggestively.
“Promises,promises,”Iwhispered.
“Whoa,wait.What?”Wessoundeddumbstruckbymycomment.Foronce,hewasoutofwords.
“Nothing,”IsmiledflirtatiouslyovermyshoulderasFabianaledmeaway.
Wesjuststoodtherestaring,slackjawed.
Servedhimright.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Anhourlater,IsatinaboxysalonchairwithWesandLucastandingbehindme.Myhairhadbeencut

andcurledandarrangedbyLucainanelegantbutlooseup-do.Icouldn’tbelievehowgooditlooked.

“Perfetto,”Lucasaid.“Sheislikeacigno,aswan,thisone.”
“Iagree,”Wessaid.Heranthebackofhisfingersdownthesideofmyneck,sendinghotchillsthrough

mybody.

Iclampedmyeyesshut,tryingnottogetarousedagain.“Thankyousomuch,Luca.Itlooksincredible.

I’vealwaysappreciatedamanwhocanfinishwhathestarts,”IsaidittoLucabutshotapointedlookat
Wes.

Hesmirkedatme,“Youcan’trunamarathonwithoutwarmingupfirst,Sunflower.”
WhatwasitaboutWesthatsaidmarathonsexsessions?Prettymucheverything.Ihidasmileashe

thankedLucaandwemadeourwaytowardthefrontdoor.

“Don’twehavetopay?”IwhisperedtoWes.
“Alreadytakencareof.”Heopenedthefrontdoorforme.“Afteryou.”
WedrovebacktoMadeline’sstudiowiththetopupontheLamborghiniandtheACrunning.Once

there,sheandJean-Paulhelpedmeintothereddress,beingverycarefulofmyhair.

“Magnifique,”Jean-Paulsaid.
“Welldone,Jean-Paul,”Madelinesaid.“Itfitsherlikeaglove.”
“Ican’twaittotakeitoff,”Weschuckled.
“Wesley…”Madelinewarnedsternly.“Out.”
Oncethedresswasoff,Westookmeoutsideandwalkedmetoabistroupthestreetfromthestudio

andboughtfoodforusandorderedtogolunchesforMadelineandJean-Paul.Weateoursoutsideunder
theshadeofatableumbrellaandthesidewalktrees.Theweatherwasperfect,nottoohotandnottoo
cool.Iwasalittleworriedaboutmyhairstayingnice,soItriedtokeepmyheadstillwhileeating.

“So,what’sthisthingwe’regoingtotonight?”IaskedasIforkedarugulaandapieceofroasted

chickenoffmyplateandtookabite.

Heshrugged,“Justanindustrything.Sameold,sameold.”

“Whatindustry?”
“You’llfindout.Eatyoursalad.Idon’twantyoufaintinglaterfromhunger.”
“Doyoualwaysgivepeopleordersandexpectthemtofollowlikesheep?”
Hewinked,“Inmybusiness,yes.”
“ToobadI’mnotasheep.”
“Yoursaladsaysyouare.”
“Shutup,”Ilaughed.“I’mnoteatinggrass.”
“Yousure?Lookslikeittome,”hechuckled.
Irolledmyeyes.
“Eatyoursalad,Sunflower.Wehaveascheduletokeep.”
“Ihateyou.”
“Iknow,”hewinked.“Justwaituntilwegetwherewe’regoing.”
“DoIwanttoknow?”
Helaughed.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

WewalkedbackintoMadeline’sstudio.
Amiddle-agedguyinasuitsatononeofthegraycouchesinthefrontroom.Alargemetalbriefcase

laidonthetableinfrontofhim.Atallimposingguyinadarksuithoverednearthebackwall,handsathis
sides,watchingthefrontdoorintently.

Theguyonthecouchsmiledatusandstoodupaswewalkedinside.HekindofremindedmeofNeil

Lane,theguywhoalwaysbroughtouttheengagementringsonTheBachelorandTheBachelorette,butI
didn’tthinkitwashim.Itcouldn’tbehim.No,asIgotcloserIrealizedhehadmoreofaMelBrooks
fromSpaceballsthinggoingon.Earthierandmirthier.

“Hey,Abram,”Wessaid,walkingovertoshakehishand.“AbramCohen,meetChelsea…”Heshook

hishead.“Youknowwhat,Sunflower?Idon’tknowyourlastname.”

Abramsmiled,“Don’tyouthinkyououghtashouldknowthegirl’sname,Wes?Whatkindofamensch

doesn’tknowhisgirlfriend’slastname?”

“Yeah,”Isaidaccusatorially.“Whatkindofamenschareyou,Wes?”Iwasn’tevensurewhata

menschwas.

Wesranhishandthroughhischestnuthair,embarrassed.“IjustcallherSunflower.”
“SheisdefinitelyaSunflower,”Abramsaid,“butyoushouldknowhernameifyou’reshtuppingher.”
Ihadaprettygoodideawhatshtuppingmeant.
“I’mnotshtuppingher!”Weslaughed.
“Yet,”Abramsaid,winkingatme.ToWes,“What’syourgirlfriend’slastnamealready?Yououghta

knowbynow.AmIright?”Henudgedmyarmwithhiselbow.Ireallylikedthisguy.

“Slowdown,Abram,”Wessaid.“Chelsea,Sunflower,wouldyoumindtellingeveryoneyourlast

name?”

“Uh…um…Johnson?”Iconsideredmakingupaname,butAbramandWeswerebothstaringatme

andIcouldn’tthinkofone.

“Areyousure?”Abramjoked,hiseyesshiningwithmirth.
Giggling,Isaid,“Yes.Onehundredpercent.”
“Yagotthat,Wes?”AbrampinchedWes’forearmandshookit.“Johnson.Sayitwithme,youngman.

Johnson.Johnson,Johnson,Johnson.”

“Johnson,”Wessaid,chuckling.

Abram’sgoodhumorwasinfectious.“Nowthatwe’vebeenformallyintroduced,”hesaid,“letsget

downtobusiness.”Heledustothecouches.WesandIsatdownoppositehim.

Abramopenedthebriefcaseandturnedittowardus.
“Wow,”Igasped,suddenlyfeelinglikeIreallywasonTheBachelor,orinmycase,TheBachelorette.
Somanydiamonds…
“Youlike?”Abramsmiled.
“Um…”Ilaughed.“Yeah.”
“Incredible,Abram,”Wessaid.“You’vereallyoutdoneyourself.”
Insidethecase,lyingonroyalbluevelvet,weretwogoldnecklaceswithmatchingpairsofearrings.

Bothshimmeredwithenoughdiamondstobuyatropicalisland.Eventhechainswerecoveredwith
diamonds.Priceless.Bothnecklaceshadshinygoldpendantswithevenlargerdiamonds.Eachhada
uniquedesign.Onewasspiralsandcurves,theothergeometriclinesandplanes.

“Whichonedoyoulike?”Abramasked.
“Me?”Isaid,tryingnottogasp.“Igettopick?”
Wessaid,“I’mnotgonnabetheonewearingit.It’scompletelyuptoyou,Sunflower.”
“Wow,”Ilaughed.“Really?”
AbramandWesbothnodded.
“Howaboutthisone?”Ipointedatthegeometricone.
“Excellentchoice.”Abramliftedthenecklaceoutofthecasewithgreatcare.“Let’stryiton.”He

steppedbesidemeanddrapeditaroundmyneck.Ithungdownpastmycleavage.

Itdidn’tlookrighthangingovermyprintT-shirt.
Wessaid,“It’llgogreatwithMadeline’sdress.”
“Yeah,”Inodded,lookingdownatit.“Thisisbeautiful,Abram.Howmuchdoesthisthingcost?”
Hesmiledandshookhishead,“Youdon’twannaknow.”
“Oh,sorry.Ishouldn’thaveasked.It’sjust,I’malittleworriedaboutwearingitout.Whatifitbreaks

or…”Ididn’twanttosay,Whatifsomeonetriestostealit?Iwasn’tusedtoworryingaboutexpensive
jewelry.

“Idesignedthisonemyself,Bubbeleh.Andmyjewelersdogoodwork.Itwon’tbreak.”
“Don’tworry,Sunflower.”Wesrubbedmyarm.“I’llkeepaneyeonyouandthenecklaceallnight.”
Ilaughed.“Why?Soyoucanstareatmyboobs?”
Hegrinnedbig.“Whyelse?”
“Youtwo,”Abramchuckledandwavedadismissivehand.“WaituntilI’mgonealready!”Heliftedthe

necklaceovermyheadandsetitcarefullyinthecase.“Ineedtotakeaninchoffthechain.It’sabittoo
long.I’lltakeittomyshopandhaveitbackinanhour.Willthatworkforyou?”

“Yeah,”Wessaid.“Westillneedtodohermakeup.”
“Good,good.Idon’twanttostopyoutwolovebirdsfromdoingwhatlovebirdsdo.Right,

Sunflower?”Hewinkedatmeandnudgedmyarmagain.Tothebigmanwho’dbeenwatchingoverus
likeasilentsoldier,hesaid,“Let’sgo,Joseph.”IguessJosephwasAbram’ssecurityguard?

Whentheyweregone,Wessaid,“Sorryaboutthat.”
“Sorryaboutwhat?”Isaid.
“Abram.Theshtupping,thegirlfriendcomment,thelovebirdscomment.”
“Oh,he’ssweet.Ilikehim.Doesitbotheryouhecalledmeyourgirlfriend?”
Wessmiled,“Notatall.”
Itdoesn’tbothermeeither.“Okaythen!”Ilaughed,tryingtohidemyembarrassment.“Yousaid

somethingaboutmakeup?”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Torithemakeupartistwasbusyapplyingprimertomyfacewithherfingers.Herownmakeuplooked

flawlessandnotoverdone,soIassumedshe’ddoagoodjobonme.IsatinachairinMadeline’sstudio.
HertwoassistantsKarlaandRobinwerebusygivingmeamaniandapediatthesametime.Ifeltbadfor
Robinbecauseshehadtositonthefloor.Shehadmyfeetrestingonatowelinherlapwhileshetrimmed
andbuffedmytoes.

Torisaid,“YouhavethesmoothestandmostevenskinI’veeverseen.”Sheshould’veseenittwo

weeksago.Blotchywithatleasttwozitsatalltimes.“Youdon’twearmakeupmuch,doyou?”

“Notreally.”Itwasn’tworththetrouble.
“Well,”shesmiled,“Youdon’tneedit.”
“Thanks.”NotaslongasI’masupermodel,Ididn’t.Ihadnoideahowlongmysupernaturalbeauty

wouldlast,butIhopedI’datleastmakeitthroughwhatevertonightwas.Ididn’twanttodoaCinderella
atmidnight.Inhercase,theglassslipperstillfitwhenherprincefoundherinherrags.Ididn’tknowif
I’dgetglassslippersfromMadelinefortonight,butIdidknowmyfeetwouldshrinkwheneverIchanged
backtonormal,andthatmeantwhatevershoesMadelinegavemenowwouldn’tfitmelater.Would
PrinceWesbeabletofindmethen?

“Whatkindoflookarewegoingfor?”Toriaskedtheroom.
Madeline,whowaschattingwithJean-PaulandWesinthecorner,said,“Nothingtoogarish.Subtle.

Justahintofsmokearoundtheeyes.Shedoesn’tneedmuch.Andmaybeanudelip.”

Wessnickered,“Howaboutnudeeverything?”
Madelinegrumbled,“DoIhavetogiveyouatimeout,Wesley?”
“Willitjustbemeandyoualoneinaroom?”heflirtedinnocently.
“No,itwillbeyoustandingaloneinacornerwithaduncecap,youngman.”
Helaughed.
Toriwenttoworkonmyfaceandlessthananhourlater,shewasfinished.Icouldn’tbelievehow

goodIlooked.She’dfollowedMadeline’sinstructionstoaT.

“Wow,thislooksamazing,”Isaid,examiningmyreflectioninthebighandmirrorToriheld.
“Timetogetyoudressed,”Madelinesaid.“Thatmeansyoucanleave,youngman.”SheglaredatWes.
“LikeIsaidearlier,we’renotgettingmarried.Icanseehergettingintoherdress.”
“Yes,buteverywomanlikestomakeanentrance,Wesley.Waitoutside.”
“Fine,”hechuckledandwalkedoutofthestudio.“Ineedtogochangeanyway.”
WhileJean-PaulandMadelinehelpedmeintothedress,Abramreturnedwiththenecklaceand

earrings.Madelinesuppliedmewithapairofredpumps.

“Don’tIgetglassslippers?”Ijoked.
Madelinesmiled.“Don’tworryabouttheshoes,darling.Noonewillseethemunderyourtrain.”
OnceIhadthedress,theshoes,andthejewelryon,theyledmeovertothemirrors.Icouldn’tbelieve

myeyes.Abram’snecklacehungdownpastmyboobs,butdangledjustabovethedeepVcutofthe
cleavage,andthematchingearringssparkledinmyears.

Igasped,“Ilooklikeamillionbucks.”Ireallydid.Almostlikeamoviestar.Ifoughtbackimpending

tears.Ididn’twanttoruinTori’smakeup.Itdidn’tmatteriftheglamoroussupermodelstandinginthe
mirrorwasn’treallymeanditdidn’tmatterifmyswansformationfadedbymorning.

Fortonight,Iwouldownit.
Fortonight…Iwouldbegorgeous.
“Moreliketenmillionbucks,”Abramgrinned.Ididn’twanttoaskifthat’swhatthenecklaceand

earringswereworth.“You’regonnaturnheadstonight,Bubbeleh.”

“She’sgoingtoturneveryhead,”Madelinesaid.

Myeyeswerestartingtowater.Ireallycouldn’tbelievewhatIwasseeing.Isniffed,“Canwe,uh,get

apicture?Iwanttorememberthis.”Iwasscaredtodeaththatnoneofthiswouldlastmuchlonger.Itwas
alltoogoodtobetrue.Itcouldn’tpossiblylast.ForallIknew,Imightnotevenmakeittomidnight
lookinglikethis.

“Therewillbeplentyofthatlater,”Madelinesaiddismissively.“Youneedtogetamoveon.It’spast

threeo’clocknow.”Sheledmeoutofthestudio.

Iwalkedcarefully,tryingnottosteponthelongtrainofthetrumpetdress.Ittrailedthreeorfourfeet

behindmeonthehallwaycarpet.

WesstoodwithhisbacktomeasIapproached.Heturnedslowly,nowdressedinablacktuxedo.
Madelinewalkedinfront.ShesaidtoWes,“Areyousureaboutthatredbowtie,Wesley?Itis

supposedtobeblacktie.Ordidyouforget?”

“Fuckblacktie,”hechuckled.“Andthisisn’tred.It’sdarkred.”
“Well,itcertainlyisn’tblack.”
“Whatever.ChelseaiswearingredsoI’mwearingredtoo.”
Isteppedoutofthehallwayandintothefrontroomandstopped.
Wesstaredatme,speechless.Hiseyesrolledalloverme.“Holyshit,Chelsea.Lookatyou.”
Madelinerolledhereyesandsighed,“Whenreferringtoyourdate,Wesley,neverusethewordshitin

thesamesentence.”

“Howaboutfuck?Fuckseemsappropriate,don’tyouthink?”Hewinkedatme.
Madelinesmirked.“Trysomethingelse.”
Helookedatme.“Ican’tthinkofanythingelse.Chelsea,youare…”Heshookhishead.“Thereareno

words.”Ifeltthesamewaylookingathim.Hewasdashingandimpeccablyhandsomeinhistux.Every
woman’sfantasy.Tonight,hewouldbeallmine.

HeglancedatMadeline,Jean-Paul,Abram,Toriandhergirls,allofwhomnowstoodbehindme.

“Canyouguysstepoutforanhour?IthinkIneedtotearthisdressoffChelseaandravagehersixwaysto
Sunday.”

Madelineglaredathim,“Therewillbenoravagingandnotearing,Wesley.Theonlypeoplewhowill

beremovingmydressfromherbodyareJean-Paulandmyselfattheendoftheevening.HaveImade
myselfclear?”

“Crystal.Butoncethatdressisoff,”hismahoganyeyesflared,“allbetsareoff…”
Mysentimentsexactly.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

“ArewetakingyourLamborghini?”Iaskedoutside.“Ifweare,Ican’tdriveinthisdress.”Iheldthe

traincarefullyoffthegroundlikeMadelinehadshowedmeinside.“You’llhavetodrive.”

“Nottonight.Tonightwearriveinstyle.”
Ablackstretchlimopulleduptothecurb.Gavinjumpedoutwearingatux.“Afternoon,luv,”hesaid

tome,notrecognizingmeintheslightestasheopenedthebackdoorforus.Ofcoursehedidn’t.Iwasn’t
plainJane.

WesheldmyhandwhileIclimbedin.Heslidinafter.Amomentlater,thecarstartedmoving.
Wesputhisarmcasuallyovertheseatbackandbrushedhisfingersupanddownthebackofmyneck.

Exquisitechillsbloomedundermyskinandgoosebumpscrawledupmyarms.

“Wouldyoustop?”Imoaned,myeyelidsfluttering.
Hedidn’t.“Haveyoueverbeenfuckedinthebackofalimousine,Sunflower?”
“Wes!”Iglaredathim.

“Haveyou?”
“No!Andyou’renotgoingtohavesexwithmerightnow,soshutup!Wehaven’tevenkissed.Geez!”

Despitemyanger,Istartedwonderingwhatitwouldbelike…Butno,Ididn’twanttoruinMadeline’s
dress.Ormyhair.

“Youknowwhatkillsme,Sunflower?”Hisvoicesoftenedfromsexuallyaggressivetoasensitive

sigh.

“What’sthat?”
“Ican’tevenkissyoubecauseIdon’twanttomessupyourmakeup.”Hesaiditwithsuchwarmthand

suchsincerity,that’sexactlywhatIwantedhimtodorightthenandthere.Iwasdyingtotastehislips.But
hewasright.Maybelater.

Hestrokedmyneckagain.
Ishivered,“Wes,ifyoumakemesowetIsoakthroughthisdress,notonlywillIkillyou,butI

guaranteeMadelinewillkillyoutoo.”

“ApriceIwouldhappilypay.Butperhapsnottonight.”Hereluctantlyputhisarmbackinhislap.“But

ifforsomereasonyourpantiesdogettoowettowear,takethemoffandgivethemtome.I’llbegladto
holdontothemforyou.”

“WillIgetthembackattheendofthenight?”
“Mmmmm…no.”Hegrinned.
Inarrowedmyeyesathim,“YouknowWes,youpretendyouhavemanners,butyoureallydon’t.”
“Andyouloveit.”Asmugsmilestretchedacrosshisperfectteeth.
“Wherearewegoing?”Ilookedoutthewindow.“SomewhereinHollywood?”
“HollywoodandHighland,tobeexact.”
Afewminuteslater,thelimoslowedtoastopinthemiddleofthestreet.Icouldn’tseewhatlayahead

becausetheprivacyscreenwasup.“Arewestuckintraffic?”

“Probably.”
“WhyistheretrafficatthreeintheafternoononaSunday?”
“There’salwaystrafficinLA.”
“Notthismuch.Andwhattimedoesthisthingstart,anyway?”
“Wedon’thavetobethereuntilfour-thirty.Wehavetime.”
Anhourlater,wewerestillsittingintraffic,butwe’dmovedafairdistance.Outsidethelimo,people

werecrowdedonthesidewalktendeep.HollywoodandHighlandoftenhadthousandsofpeoplewalking
aroundtoseetheHollywoodWalkofFame,MadameTussaudsHollywoodWaxMuseum,Ripley’s
BelieveitOrNot,TheChineseTheatre,TheEgyptianTheatre,andallthatothertouristystuff.Butthese
peoplewerepackedinlikesardinesandwerewatchingus.Andtheywereallcheeringandshoutingatthe
topsoftheirlungs.

“Whattheheckisgoingon?”Iasked.“Itsoundslikeariotoutside.”
“GoodthingI’mwithyou,”Wesgrinned.
Ourlimostartedmovingagainthensuddenlystopped.Someoneopenedthebackdoorandthe

afternoonsunlightpouredin.

Thecheeringcrowdwentwildandthesoundwasdeafening.
Theguywhoopenedthedoorhadablondbuzzcutandbeefyshoulders,givinghimsomethingofa

militarylook.Hewasn’tGavin,butlikeGavinheworeatuxedo.Healsohadamicrophoneinhisearthat
hadalittlecoiledwirerunningdownhisneckandintohistuxedojacket.

BuzzCutsaid,“WelcometotheAcademyAwards.”
“What?!”Iblurted.
Wesjustsmiledandnodded.
Holy!

Shit!

Chapter22

Wesslidoffhisleatherseatandsteppedoutofthelimo.ItriedtograbhimsoIcouldstabhimtodeath

and/orpullhimbackinthecarandmakeGavindriveushome,butWeswastooquick.

BuzzCutleanedintothecarandofferedmehishand.
“Icanhandlethat,”Wessaid,shoulderingBuzzCutoutoftheway.Heheldhishandforme.“Shallwe,

Sunflower?”

MyjawhungwideopenandIhissed,“Wes!What!The!Fuck!Youdidn’ttellmeweweregoingtothe

freakingOscars!”

Hecurledasuspiciousgrin.“Didn’tI?”
“IthinkIwould’veremembered!Ican’tgooutthere!It’s…theOscars!”Iwasonlyslightlymortified

thatprettymuchthewholeworldwasabouttoseemewalkingdowntheredcarpetoninternational
television.

Heshrugged.“Nowyouknow.ButIdidtellyouIneededarmcandyfortonight.”
Ilaughedinhisface.“No,Wes!”IwasdyingtowalktheredcarpetwithWes,butIwasalsonot

entirelysurethiswasagoodidea.ChancesweregoodthateveryoneI’deverknownwouldseeme
lookinglikenotme.Therewouldbeapermanentrecordofmeturningintoasupermodel.Ididn’twant
thewholeworldknowingI’dmagicallyswansformedintoanotherfreakingperson.Thenagain,how
wouldanyoneeverfindout?MaybepeoplewouldthinkIwasmysister.Theneithershe’dhavetomake
upliesaboutbeinghereorI’dhavetotellherIwasn’tmeanymore!

MaybethesafestthingwouldbetojustsitrighthereinthislimoandhaveGavindrivemehome.Wes

couldwalktheredcarpetalone.

Ihesitatedamoment.
“Somethingwrong?”Wesasked.
Outside,peoplescreamed.Theexcitementwascontagious.
Fuckit.
IwasgoingtotheOscars.
Iclimbedoutofthelimoandthecrowdcheeredandwavedtheirhands.Wesledmetoasecurity

checkpointunderahugewhitetent.WewaitedinlinebehindKevinHartandhiswife.Shewassomuch
tallerthanhiminherheels.Icouldn’tbelieveitwasactuallyhim.Infrontofthetwoofthemstoodallof
U2:Bono,TheEdge,andtheothertwoguys.InfrontofthemstoodMatthewMcConaughy,hiswife,and
hismom.Evenmorecelebritieswereinlineaheadofthem.

Partofmewantedtofangirlandbegforeveryone’sautographandselfies.Anotherpartofmeflatly

refusedtheideaandwanteddesperatelytoplayitcoollikethiswasmynormal.Thecelebritieswere
alreadyactingthatway,pretendingtheyallkneweachother.Theysortofdid.Imean,whenLeonardo
DiCaprioorAngelinaJoliewalkeduptoU2,everybodybasicallykneweverybodyalready.Oratthe
veryleast,knewof.

Whenitwasourturnatthesecuritycheckpoint,thebeefyguysintuxesdidn’timmediatelyrecognize

Wesorme,buthedidn’tseemworried.HegavehisnametoawomanwhotypedhisnameintoaniPad.
Wes’sphotopoppeduponthescreenandshewavedusin.

ClingingtoWes’elbow,Iwhispered,“Howcometheydidn’tcheckme?”
“BecausetheAcademyknowsme.WhoeverIbringisfinewiththem.”
“Oh.”

Wewalkedoutofthesecurityareaandontotheredcarpetproper.Thecrowdscreamedevenlouder

herethantheyhadwhenIgotoutofthelimo.Thesoundandthismomentwereoverwhelming.Onmy
right,bleacherswerepackedwithscreamingfanswavingatallthecelebrities.Onmyleftwasallthe
pressbehindwhitedrapedfencing.Life-sizedgoldenOscarstatueswereplacedintermittentlyalongthe
redcarpet.Hundredsofcelebritiesstrolledalongit,themenwearingblacktuxedos,thewomenwearing
coutureeveninggowns.

WewalkedrightpastMattDamonandBenAffleck.BensawWesandwavedusover.
ImutteredinWes’ear,“DoyouknowBenAffleck?”
“Yeah.WeshouldstopandtalkwithhimandMattforaminute.”
“What?!”Igasped.IwasbarelykeepingittogetherasitwasandthethoughtoftalkingtoMattDamon

andBenAffleckmademewanttofaintdeadaway.Butthatdidn’tstopWes.ThenextthingIknew,Iwas
shakinghandswithMattandBenwhilepretendingIwasn’tabouttohaveaheartattack.IletWesdoall
thetalkingbecauseIcouldn’tspeak.Aminutelater,GeorgeClooneyandhiswifewalkedupfrombehind
andsurprisedallofus.Everyonelaughedandsaidhellotoeachotherlikebestfriends,andWeswasone
ofthem.

NowIwasreallydying.
MattandBenwerebusytalkingtoGeorgesoWespulledmeaway.
Aswedriftedoff,IgiggledandwhisperedtoWes,“Ican’tbelievethatjusthappened.”
“Getusedtoit.It’sgonnabelikethisallnight.”
“Oh,wow.”Ihonestlywasn’tsureifIcouldtakeitallnight.
Aswewalkedpastthephotographers,Wesencouragedmetokeepsmiling.Mycheeksstartedtohurt

afterlessthantwominutes.Istillcouldn’tbelieveanyofthiswasreallyhappening.

Halfwaydowntheredcarpet,therewasaplatformwherenumerousfamousactressesweregoingup

thelowstepstoposeforpictures.NicoleKidman,JenniferLawrence,EvaLongoria,ReeseWitherspoon,
SandraBullock.

“Iloveyourdress!”awomansaidtomyleft.
“Thanks,youtoo!”Iturnedandsawabeautifulyoungbrunettesmilingatme.Ihadn’tevenregistered

whatshewaswearingbeforeIsaidit.Itjustseemedlikethepolitethingtodo.Ididn’trecognizeher,but
sheseemedvaguelyfamiliar,likeI’dseenheronthecoverofCosmoorinsomeNetflixmovierecently.
ThereweresomanynewstarsinHollywood,Icouldn’tkeeptrackofthemall.Consideringshewashere
anddressedinastunningsequinedsilvergown,shewasprobablyupforanAcademyAwardorwasone
ofthepresenters.Orboth.

“Youlookgreatinred,”shesaidasshestrolledpastmeandwalkeduptotheplatformstagewherethe

otheractresseshadposedforthephotographers.Flankedbylife-sizedgoldenOscarstatues,shestrucka
poseandthecamerasflashed.Whenshewasfinished,shestartedwavingatme.“Comeon!Comeup
here!”

“She’stalkingtoyou,”Wessaidinmyear.
“Noway.”
Aguywithaclipboardandaheadsetstandingatthebaseoftheplatformsawthewomanwaving.
Sheholleredtohim,“Sheneedstocomeupheretoo!”
ClipboardGuylookedbetweenmeandherbeforewavingatmefuriously,signalingmetocomeover.
“WhatshouldIdo?”IaskedWes.
“Goupthereandgetyourpicturetaken.”
“Ican’t!”
ClipboardGuywalkeduptomeasIapproached.“What’syourname?”
“ChelseaJohnson?”Iwasn’tevensuremyself,myheadwasspinningsofast,butithadtumbledright

outofmymouth.

ClipboardGuymumbledintohisheadsetmicrophone,“Nextup,ChelseaJohnson.”Heputhishand

overthemicrophoneandaskedme,“Howdoyouspellyourfirstname?”

“C-H-E-L-S-E-A.”
Herepeateditintohismicrophoneandusheredmetowardthesteps.
Iwastoostunnedtoresist.Ijustwentalongwithit.Goingupthelowsteps,IwasscaredtodeathI

wasgoingtotripovermyheelsorthedressorboth,butImadeitandwalkedtothecenterofthestage
andstruckawobblypose.Iwasn’tusedtoheels.Hundredsofcamerasflashed,nearlyblindingme.My
heartwaspoundingandmyheadwastoo.Ifeltreadytodie.Aminutelater,ontheothersideofthestage,
anotherguywavedmedown.

WeswaswaitingformeasIsteppedontothecarpet.
“OhmyGod!Ican’tbelievethisishappening!”Istartedlaughing,Iwassoovercomewith

exhilaration.Iwasalsohyperventilatingandcouldn’tcatchmybreath.

“Relax,Sunflower.I’mrighthere.”Wessqueezedmyhandinhis.
Iwasafraidtoletgoandsqueezedbackhard.Iwasn’tsureifIcouldgetthroughthiswithouthimright

besideme.

Finally,wemadeitdowntotheendoftheredcarpetwhereitturnedtogoupthegrandstaircasethat

ledintotheDolbyTheatre.

Wesleanedintomyear,“Canyoudoonemorethingforme?”
“Sure,”Inoddedvigorously.
“Ineedtodoabriefinterviewuponthatplatform.Youjustneedtostandnexttome.”
“Okay,sure.”Iwasn’tlettinggoofhishand,soIguessweweredoingtheinterview.
Ittookafewminuteswhileothercelebritieswereinterviewedbytheguyinatuxstandingonthe

elevatedstage,includingEmmaStoneandChrisPine,a.k.a.CaptainKirkfromthenewStarTrekmovies.
HeIreallywantedtohavesignanautograph.Because,CaptainKirk.Duh.ButIdidn’thaveanythingfor
himtosign,soIletitdrop.

YetanotherguyinatuxwithaheadsetledWesandIupthestepstotheinterviewplatform.Interview

Guyhadahandheldmicrophone.Hefacedavideocameraandsaid,“Iamheretonightwiththelegendary
WesleyCallawayandhisbeautifuldate,ChelseaJohnson.Asmanyofyouknow,Wesley’sgrandmother,
thelateHelenCallaway,wasashiningstarduringtheGoldenAgeofHollywood,winningnumerous
awardsandmakingtheCallawayfamilyapermanentfixtureintheranksofHollywoodroyaltytothis
day.”

Legendary?Royalty?Wow,thiswasallnewstome.ButallthosepostersandheadshotsofHelenI’d

seenatWesley’smansionsaiditall.

“Chelsea,Ihavetoask,”InterviewGuysaid,“Whoareyouwearingtonight?”Heheldhismicrophone

uptomyface.

“Oh,uh,thedressisMadelineKettnerandthejewelryisAbramCohen.”IlookedtoWesfor

confirmationthatIwascorrectandhesmiledproudlyandwinked,rubbingmybackgently.

“Wellyoulookravishinginred,Chelsea.Wesley,it’sbeenafewyearssincewe’veseenyouwalkthe

redcarpet,butit’ssogoodtohaveyouback.”

“Thanks.It’sanhonortobehere.AndanhonortohaveChelseabymyside.ThisisthefirsttimeI’ve

walkedtheredcarpetwithoutmygrandmother,butIknowshewouldwantmetobeheretonight,andI
knowshe’ssmilingdownonusrightnow.”Hesqueezedmyhandandlifteditupsohecouldkissiton
camera.Hesmiledatme,hischocolateeyesliquidandshimmeringinthebrightlights.

Myheartmeltedrightthenandthere.Mykneesalsoshookandthreatenedtobuckle.Iwasliterally

abouttofaint,butWessteadiedmewithahandaroundmywaist,pullingmeagainsthisside.

Ileanedagainsthim,nolongeronthevergeoffainting.ButIwastrulyswooning.
InterviewGuysaidsomethingelse,butmyheadwasspinningandthecheeringcrowdwassoloud,I

hadnoideawhatitwas.

Amomentlater,Weswalkedmedownoffthestageandthroughthegiantgoldcurtainthatledupthe

red-carpetedgrandstaircaseintotheDolbyTheatre.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Theawardsceremonywasablur.
Duringit,wesatreallyclosetothestage,maybethetenthrow.Apparently,beingaCallawaygotyou

specialprivilegeswiththeAcademy.WessattomyleftandtomyrightsatDanielCraig,a.k.a.thesexiest
JamesBondever.

Yeah,wetalked.
IactedlikeIdidn’tknowwhohewas,soIdidn’tmakeafoolofmyself.Atonepointduringa

commercialbreak(whenthecelebritiesarounduswouldinevitablychitchat),WesaskedinmyearifI
realizedIwastalkingtoDanielCraig.Myhushedresponsewas,“Shhh!Don’ttellhim!He’slicensedto
kill!”Weschuckledatthat.

Theceremonywasquitelong,butIdidn’tnotice.Iwastooexcitedbyitalltocare.EverywhereI

looked,themostfamousmoviestarsandentertainersontheplanetwerebusybeingnormal.

Itwasfascinating.
Wheneverythingfinallyfinished,thehordeofcelebritiesmigratedouttothebigwhitetenttowaitfor

theirlimousines.Westoodshouldertoshoulderwithyetmorestarswhilethefansattheedgeofthe
barricadesscreamedforautographs.Whilewaiting,IhadabriefchatwithScarlettJohanssonabouthow
greattheceremonywasbeforeshegotinherlimowithherhusbandanddroveoff.

Gavinarrivedwithourlimoanddroveusoutontothestreettojointheslowcaravanoflimosleaving

theDolby.

“Thatwasawesome!”Isquealedinsidethequietcar,doingaspastichappydancewhilesittingdown,

kickingmydresstrainupinredbillows.

Weschuckled,“SoItakeityouhadfun?”
Ipinchedmythumbandindexfingerclosetogether,“Maybethismuch?”Iwasgiddywithexcitement.
“So,areyoureadyfortheVanityFairafterparty,orshouldItakeyouhomeandtearthisdressoff?”
Iputmyfingeronmylipsandlookedupthoughtfully.“Hmmm,toughchoice.Not!Afterparty!”I

laughed.

Wesdidtoo.
TheVanityFairpartywasonlyafewmilesawayattheWallisAnnenbergCenterforthePerforming

Arts.Aftergettingoutofthelimo,wehadtogothroughtwosecuritycheckpointsandpresentan
electronickeycardateachtogetin.

Aftersecurity,wejoinedthelineofcelebritiesstrollingthroughthegauntletofreporters.Behindus

wasalongwoodwallwithhugecutoutlettersspellingVANITYFAIR.Infrontwasthepressbehindlow
velvet-coveredfencing.ThepresscalledouttothemorefamouscelebritieslikeLadyGagaandTaylor
Swift,gettingthemtostopandposeforphotosandanswerquestions.Thousandsofcameraflashes
poppedofftheentiretime.

Inside,thepartyproperwassetinatrendyballroomatmosphere.Dimbutcolorfulmoodlighting,

dancemusic,comfyleathercouches,bartendersbehindalongbarpouringdrinks,waitersinwhitejackets
circulatingthroughthecrowdwithtraysofchampagne.

Celebritiesgaloreclusteredtogether,chattingabouteverythingunderthesun.Ilostcountofallthe

famouspeopleItalkedtothatnight.I’dneverrememberallofthem.Itwasonethingtohaveacelebrity
sightinginLA,whichhappenednowandthen,butthatwasusuallyoneortwocelebritiesatmost.Being

crammedinaroomwithhundredsofthemsocializingwasanotherthingentirely.Itseemedlikeevery
famousentertainereverwasrighthere.

Ifsomeonedroppedabombonthisbuildingtonight,therewouldn’tbeanynewmoviesorTVshows

comingoutofHollywoodforyears.

WesandIcirculatedforatleasttwohours.Tomysurprise,abunchofdifferentpeopletoldmehow

muchtheylovedmydressandmanysaidI’dbeonthebestdressedlistsinthetabloidsallweeklong.I
couldn’tdecideifthatwasfantasticorifhavingmyphotospreadfarandwidewastheworstthingever.I
didn’thavetimetothinkaboutitbecausethepartyneverstopped.

Atonepoint,whilewechattedwithConanO’BrienandhiswifeLiza,ChrisEvans,a.k.a.Captain

America,brushedpastme.Hewasridiculouslyhotinperson.Hesmiledandsaidhello.

“Hi,”Ititterednervously,barelyabletospeak.
WesnoticedimmediatelyandleanedpastConanandsaidtoChris,“She’smydate,Chris.Andshe

hatesCaptainAmerica.”

“NoIdon’t!”Ilaughed.“IlovetheAvengersmovies!AndCaptainAmerica!”
“Okay,fine,”Weschuckled,“butnoflirtingwithAmerica’sfirstpatriot.”Hewinkedatmebefore

goingbacktotalkingtoConanandhiswife.

Afterintroducingourselves,ChrisandIkeptitcasual.Ourconversationrevolvedaroundtonight’s

awardsceremonyandtheAvengersmovies.Iallowedmyselftoslightlyfangirlwhilehetoldmesomeon
setstoriesaboutworkingwithJossWhedonandRobertDowneyJr.

WhenChriswanderedofftotalktoScarlettJohansson,Wesputhisarmaroundmeandwhisperedin

myear,“Wannastepoutsideforsomefreshair?”

“Sure,”Ismiled.
Wesledmeouttothesmokingpatioandfoundaquietcornerawayfromthesmokersandmusicand

conversation.

“Areyoustillhavingfun?”Wesasked,holdingafullchampagneglassinhishand.
“Ithinkfunistoosmallaword.Hey,canIhaveyourchampagne?Iforgottodrinkanything.”
Hetookasipbeforehandingmetheglass.
IconsideredturningtheglasssoIsippedfromthesameplacehehad,butIdidn’twanttobetoo

obvious.“WoulditbotheryouifIwentoutonadatewithCaptainAmerica?”

Wessmiledwhilefrowning.“DoyoumeanChrisEvansthepersonorCaptainAmericathecharacter?”
“Doyouhaveapreference?”Iaskedcoyly.
“Yeah.Ipreferyouonlygooutwithme.”
“Sopossessive,”Isaidtheatrically.“Wehaven’tevenkissedyet.”
Hetookthechampagneglassfrommyhandandsetitonalowtable.“WhydoyouthinkItookyouout

here?”

Oureyesflickedbackandforth.
“YouhavethemostbeautifuleyesI’veeverseen,Sunflower.”
“Youtoo,”Iwhispered.Swallowedhard.Hecouldkissmeanytime.Hewassodamnhandsome,I

didn’tcarewhathedidnext.

Heplacedhishandfirmlyonmyassandpulledmeintohiships.Thestrainingbulgeinhisslacks

pressedagainstmybareskininthedeepVneckline.Theonlythingbetweenhimandmewashistuxedo.
Aspleasureswirledinmybreasts,mynippleshardenedandpokedthroughthethinmaterialofmydress.

Hehadn’tevenkissedmeyet,butIwas90%sureIwouldlethimfuckmeifhetried.ButIwasn’t

goingtostartthisthrillride.

Hewouldhavetodoit.
Heleaneddownandourlipstouched,ignitingafirewithinbothofus.Hewasn’tsavage,buthewas

forceful,rhythmic,hypnotic.Histonguewasslowyetpowerful.HisotherhandsqueezedmyassandI

pressedmystomachevenharderintohiserectcock,grindingagainsthistuxedopants.Itstrainedand
pulsedagainstmyskin.Thiswasthemostsensuous,sexualkissI’deverhad.Icouldn’tpinitdown,butit
drovemewild.Aslowburn.

Long,hard,intense,overwhelming.
Wekissedforareallylongtime,grindingagainsteachotherlikeweweretryingtofuckwithour

clotheson.

Icouldn’tgetenoughofthisman.
Hecouldn’tgetenoughofme.
ButIwasreadytogivehimeverything.Aslongashekeptkissingmelikethis,hecouldkissme

forever…

“Yougonnacomeupforair,Callaway?”Someguyholleredtoourrightinabrassyvoice,followedby

severalothermenchuckling.

Barelybreakingourkiss,WesandIbothglancedoverandsawChrisRock,AdamSandler,Seth

Rogen,andJamesFranco.Thegroupofthemclappedcasuallyandcheered.ItseemedliketheyknewWes
too.

Stunned,IburiedmyfaceinWes’chestandgiggled.“Seriously,”Iwhispered,“Doyouknow

everyoneinHollywood?”

“Igrewupinthisbusiness,”hemutteredandkissedthetopofmyhead.“Thisisjusthowitis.”Tothe

grouphesaid,“Takeahike,boys.Meandmyladyarehavingamoment.”

Theylaughedandleft.
Couldthisnightgetanymoresurreal?

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Bythetimemidnightrolledaround,IwasconvincedthatmyCinderellapredictionwouldcometrue

andalloftheglamourwoulddisappearinamagicpoof,andI’dgobacktobeingplainJaneJohnson,the
littlenerdgirl.Onlyinsteadofmycarriageturningintoapumpkin,itwouldjustbemethatturnedintoa
pumpkin.Eitherway,Iwouldmakeahastyescape.

Butthatdidn’thappen.
Iremainedthegorgeoussupermodelversionofmyselfwellpastmidnight.
Asthepartywounddown,WesledmeoutofthebuildingtoSantaMonicaBoulevard.Random

celebritieschattedneartheIn-N-OutBurgerstandonthesidewalk,eatingDouble-Doublesandfreshcut
Frenchfries.Atthispoint,I’dseensomanyfamouspeople,Iwasn’tevennoticingthemanymore.

“Wantaburger?”Wesasked.
“I’mgood.”Ihadn’teateninhoursandmystomachwasknottedwithhunger,butIdidn’twanttoeatin

Madeline’sgownandriskdrippingmeltedcheeseorgrilledonionsonit.

Wespeeredintomyeyes.
“What?”Iasked.
“Youreyes.IswearI’veseeneyesexactlylikeyoursbefore.ButIcan’tthinkofwhere.”
“Emeraldwithflecksofgold.Trulyradiant.”Iwasrepeatinghiswordsfromthedaywe’dmetathis

mansionwhenIwasjustplainJane.

“Howdoyouknowthat?”
Withoutthinking,Iblurted,“Becausemysistertoldme.”
“Who’syoursister?DoIknowher?”
“DoesthenameJaneringabell?”
“Jane?WhydoIknowthatname?”

“Imaginebigglasses.”
Hiseyeswidened.“Noway.Youmeanthatcutegirlwhobargedintomygrandmother’smansion

duringtheestatesale?”

Wow.Hejustcalledmecute.Notsupermodelme.Regularme.Janeme.
“Yeah,”Isaid,allchokedup.“Shetoldmeallaboutmeetingyou.”Iwantedtoaskwhyhehadn’t

askedmeoutthen,butIdidn’twanttoburstmybubblejustyet.

“IknewI’dseenyoureyesbefore.”Hesearchedmineagain,hisflickingbackandforth.“Iswear,your

eyesareexactlythesameasyoursisters.”

BecauseIammysister.WhenI’dwokenupbeautiful,theonlythingaboutmethathadn’tchangedwas

myeyes.“Yeah,”Ichuckled,“they’reprettysimilar.”

“Likeyoucouldbetwins.”Hecouldn’tpossiblymeanthat.Supermodelmelookednothinglikeregular

me.Hejustmeantwehadthesameeyes,notthesameeverythingelse.“Dotwinshavethesameeyes?”he
mused.“Oraretheyjustsimilar?”

“Idon’treallyknow.Anyway,yeah,Janeismysister.”IhadnoideawhyI’dsaidthat.Maybemy

unconscioushaddoneit.MaybedeepdownIwantedWestolikeplainJane,notsupermodelJane.Would
thatbesocrazyathing?

Weswrappedhisarmaroundmyshoulderaffectionately.“Ireallylikedyoursister.Andhowstrange

isitthatIbumpedintoyouatthePromenade?”

“Prettystrange,”Ichuckled,notsureifI’djustmadeeverythingworsebylyingtohim.
“Youknowwhat?NowthatIthinkaboutit,youreyesarewhyIstoppedtowatchyouyesterday.Ikept

thinkinghowfamiliartheylooked,butitwasn’taddingupinmyhead.”

“Makessense,”Isighed.
“Well,Ican’twaittoseeyoursisteragain.Ireallylikedher.”
Iwantedtoask,Likedherlikedher,orjustlikedher?
ButIdidn’t.
“Rightnow,”Wescontinued,“weneedtogetyououtofthisdress.”Hiseyesdarkenedwithhunger.
“Um,ok?”Iswallowedmyexcitementalongwithahintofsweetuncertainty.
“Picturemepeelingthesespaghettistrapsoffonebyone,”hehookedhisfingerthroughone,“andthis

dresscascadingdownyourbreastslikethesexiestwaterfallinthehistoryoftheworld.”

“Here?”Icoughed.Wewereoutside,buttherewereatleastadozenpeoplestandingaroundinthe

brightlightsoftheIn-N-Outstand.

“Nothere.I’mnotsharingyouwithanyone.”Hestillhadhisfingerinmyspaghettistrap.“Thisdress

willpoolatyourfeetandyou’llbestandinginfrontofmenaked,themostbeautifulwomaninallof
creation.Venussteppingoutofherhalfshellhasnothingonyou,Sunflower.YouknowwhatI’mgoingto
dothen?”

“Willitinvolveyourdick?”Iquipped,tryingtokeepmyheadwhileresistingtheurgetograbhis…

head.

“That’suptoyou.Butifyougivemetheword,Iwillfillyourhotwetpussywithmycockuntilyou

comeahundredtimes.”

“Ahundred?”Isaiddoubtfully,swallowinghard.
“Twohundred,”hesmirkedconfidently.“Afterthat,IwillcomeinsideyouuntilI’mdrained.Ideally,

thisnightwillendwithbothofusspentandyoudrenched.”

Iforcedasmirk,tryingtohidemytotalarousal.“Ummm,tempting?”Ibrokeintogiggles.
“Justgivemetheword,Sunflower,andI’llmakeyoumine.”
AsturnedonasIwas,Iwasn’tthinkingabouthowlongitwouldbeuntilWesgotmeoutofthisdress.

IwasthinkingabouthowlongitwouldbeuntilIwasoutofthissupermodelbody,becauseitwasn’t
mine.Itwasreasonabletoassumeitwouldn’tlastandIcouldgobacktonormalatanytime.Thepressing

questionwas,howlongwouldittakebeforeIreturnedtonormal?

Ayear?
Amonth?
Aweek?
Aday?
AnhourfromnowwhileIwashavingsexwithWes?
Ihadnowayofknowing.
IwishIdid,becausethelastthingIwantedtofindoutwaswhatWeswoulddoifIsuddenlychanged

intoplainJanewhilehewasinsideme.Howwouldhereact?

Theideamademewanttocry.
Itwouldn’tbegood,Iknewthatmuch.

Chapter23

AlthoughIdecidednottohavesexwithWesthatnight(itwaseasilyoneofthehardestdecisionsI’d

evermade),heinsistedontakingmehomeandwalkingmetomydoor.Sinceitwasnearlyfourinthe
morning,Iinsistedhestayquiet.Ihadmyheelsoffandwalkedbarefootalongthebalcony,holdingthe
trainofmydressinonehand,myshoesintheother.Myphoneandhousekeywereintheshoes.Wes
carriedmyfoldedstreetclothesandmypurse.

TheotherreasonIwasbeingquietwasbecauseIdidn’twanttowakeupBrodieandhavehimstick

hisheadoutandseemewithWes.Ifeltalittlebitguiltyaboutkissingbothofthemonedayapart.Sure,I
hadn’tmadeBrodieanypromises,andIwasn’tevensurewherethingsweregoingwithWes,butmy
behaviorwasslightlyquestionable.

Atmydoor,Inoticedithadbeenfreshlypainted.Itstilllookedabittacky,soIwascarefulnotto

touchitorletmydressbrushagainstit.Brodiehadbeentruetohisword.I’dhavetothankhiminthe
morning.

“Thanksagain,Wes,”Iwhispered.“Ishouldprobablygettosleep.CanIreturnMadeline’sdress

tomorrow?”

“Youneedanyhelptakingitoff?”Heflashedadimple.
“No,IthinkIcanmanage.I’llbeextracareful.”
Hesmiled,“I’msureit’llbefine.ButIshouldtakeyournecklaceandthoseearrings.Abramwould

killmeifanythinghappenedtothem.”

“Oh,right!Itotallyforgot.”BeforeIcoulddoanything,Wessetmyclothesandpursedownandlifted

thenecklaceovermyhead.Thependanttraileduptheskinbetweenmyboobs.Wesjustgrinned,staringat
mytotallyexposedcleavage.

“Gettingagoodview?”
“Bestever.”Hecarefullyhungthenecklacearoundhisownneck.“Howdoesitlookonme?”
“Doesn’twork.You’relikesomekindofpriestorsomething.”
“Ihearpriestsaresexy.”
“Ihearpriestsarecelibate.”
“Notthisone,”hesmirked.
“Saveitfornexttime,padre.”IchuckledasIunfastenedtheearringsandhandedthemover.He

slippedtheminthepocketofhisslacks.He’dlefthisjacketandbowtieinthelimoandworeonlythe
whiteshirt,whichwasunbuttonedjustenoughtorevealtheedgesofhishardpecsbutstilltuckedin.I
resistedtheurgetotearhisshirtopenandrunmyfingersalloverhim.Ididn’twanttostartanythingI
wasn’treadytofinish.

“Ishouldgo.”Inoddedtowardmyapartment.
Heheavedahugesigh.“WhendoIseeyouagain,Sunflower?”
“Um,soon?”Ididn’twanttocommittoanythinguntilIhadachancetocomedownfrommyOscars

highandsortthroughmyfeelingsaboutWes,Brodie,andmyswansformation.

“GivemethewordandI’lltakeyouout.”
“Where?TheGoldenGlobes?OrtheEmmys?”
“TheGlobeswereinJanuary.Emmysaren’tuntilSeptember,”hegrinned.“ButtheKids’Choice

AwardsforNickelodeonarecomingupinMarch.Wecandothatifyouwant.”

“Youknow,Imighthavetotakeyouuponthat.CanIbringmyfriendGeorge?Hewouldlovetogoto

that.Imean,thethreeofus.”

Henarrowedhiseyes,“DoIneedtobeworriedaboutGeorge?”
Isnickeredtomyself.IfWessawGeorge,he’dlaugh.Isaid,“Dependshowinsecureyouare,Wes.”
Hesmirked,“I’mnotsurewhatthatmeans.”
“Itmeans,areyoumanenoughtofightforme?”IwaspicturingskinnylittleGeorgeandtallmuscular

Wesstandingtoetotoe.ItwouldbeaDavidandGoliathmoment,butinthiscase,David(George)would
bewearingaMyLittlePonyhoodieandGoliath(Wes)wouldbewearingatuxedo.Igiggledtomyself.

“What?”
“Nothing.Don’tworryaboutGeorge.He’sanoldfriendfromcollege.”
“Who’sanoldfriend?”Brodieaskedsleepily,suddenlystickinghisheadoutofhisfrontdoor.His

facewasmushedandhishairstoodup,buthewasnolesssexythanalways.Asusual,hehadnoshirton.
Infact,allheworewasapairofblackboxerbriefswhichrevealedhalfahardon,animpressiveoneat
that.Oh,Brodie.Youtrulyarethemanwithnoshame.Ashesteppedoutsidebarefoot,hegrumbled,
“Who’sthisdude?”

Wesaskedmeinnocently,“IsthisGeorge?”
Ilaughed,“No.ThisisBrodie.”
Wessmiledatme,“DoIhavetoworryaboutBrodie?”
BrodiesizedupWes,angerinhiseyes.“Yeahyoufuckingdo.Whoisthisprick,C.C.?”
Icringed.
Nothinglikeamanwithashorttemper.
Okay,sothathappened.Inevershould’veletWeswalkmetomyfrontdoor.Somuchfortakingmy

heelsofftobesneaky.

Wesputhisarmaroundmepossessively,squeezingmyshoulder.“Thisprickisherdatethisevening.

Whichprickareyou?”

Brodie’sfacesouredandtightened.“Hey,fuckyou.”
Ohno.
“Idon’tthinkso,”Wessaid,attitudeinhisvoice.
No,no,no.
BrodiesteppedrightuptoWes.BrodiewaslessthananinchtallerthanWesbutslightlymore

muscular.Ididn’twanteitherofthemgettinghurt.

“Relax,Brodie,”Isaid.
“Domeafavorandtakeastepback,”WessaidcalmlytoBrodie.
Brodiegrowled,“I’mnotdoingshit,buddy.”
“Takeastepback,”Weswarned,histoneicy.“ThistimeI’mnotasking.”
“AndI’mnotmoving.”
“Haveityourway.”
Igasped.
WesreleasedhisarmfrommyshoulderandpositionedhimselfbetweenmeandBrodie,shieldingme,

buthestoodtherecalmly.

Phew,thatwasclose.
Thetwomenwerenownosetonoseandlookedliketwoboxersbeforeachampionshipbout.
Brodiewasgettingworkedup.
SowasWes.
Ihissed,“Stopit,youtwo.”
Theyignoredme.
“Isaidstopit!Right—!”
Whathappenednextwasablur.BrodiethrewahookingfistatWes’jaw.Wesdodgedandshotapunch

straightupatthebottomofBrodie’schin.Brodietooktheshotandstaggeredbackbutdidn’tfallover.
ThebalconyshookundermyfeetandIshoutedatfullvolume,“Stop!”BrodiechargedWes,slamminghim
againstthebalconyrailinglikehewantedtopushhimovertheedge.Idroppedmyshoeswithmyphone
andhousekey,thengrabbedforBrodie.WesfiredknucklesintoBrodie’sthroatfromtheside.Toolate,
Brodiethrewupaprotectivehandandtwistedhisbodydefensively,knockingmebackwardwhiletaking
ahittohisneck.Islammedintomyfrontdoorloudly,cryingoutinsurprise.

Bothmenstoppedandwhirled,facingme.
Iwasn’thurt,butIwasfurious.Iglaredatbothmen,seethingwithrage.Somehow,whenBrodiehad

pushedmeaway,hishandhadcaughtinmydressandtornoneofthestrapsoff.ThereIstoodinahalf
shreddeddress,onestraphangingaroundmywaistwithmyboobhangingoutintheopen,nippleandall.

Ihissed,“Whatthefuckiswrongwithyoutwo?!”
Bothmenstaredatme,shockedlooksontheirfaces.
Brodietookastepforward.“Chelsea,I’msosorry,I—”Hesuddenlyhunchedoverandgrabbedathis

foot.“Whatthefuck?!”AbramCohen’spricelessnecklacewasstucktothesoleofhisfootlikecastaway
trash.Itmust’vebeentornfromWes’neckduringthefight.

AndBrodiehadjuststeppedonit.
Weswitheredwithdisgust,smearinghishandacrosshismouthandshakinghisheadindisbelief.
Brodiepeeledthenecklaceoffhisfootslowly.“Whatthefuckisthisthing?”hegruntedashecocked

hisarmbacktothrow.

“No,don’t!”Igasped,reachingouttostophim.
Toolate.
Brodiewhippeditoverthebalconyrailingwithoutathought.
“Brodie!”Ishriekedanddoveforthenecklace.ButIwastoolateandslammedintotherailing,still

reachingforthenecklaceasitsplasheddowninthepool.

Stunned,Wesgrumbled,“Areyoufuckingkiddingme?”
IfiredmyfingeratBrodieandyelled,“Yougogetthatnecklacerightfuckingnow,orIswearIwill

neverspeaktoyouagain,BrodieBolden!”

Lightsinsidetheapartmentsaroundthecourtyardstartedflickingon,upstairsanddown.Wehad

wokenpeopleup.

Brodiestaredatme,angry.
“Now,Brodie!Thatisamilliondollarnecklace!”Itriedtokeepmyyellingdowntoawhisper.Ihad

noideaoftheexactvalue,butamilliondollarswascloseenoughtogetthepointacross.

“What?”Brodiechuckled.
“Amilliondollars!Getitoutofthepoolrightnow!”
“Iseverythingokay?”Mrs.Wiserstuckherheadoutofherapartment.
Weswasalreadywalkingpasther,headingtowardthestairs,“Nothingtoworryabout,ma’am.Just

goingforalatenightswim.”Ashewent,hepulledhisshirtoffanddrapeditovertherailingwithouta
thought.

Brodiestaredatmelikeagiganticidiot.
“Gogetit,Brodie!”
Wesemergedfromthebottomofthestairs.BrodiejuststoodtherewatchingWes,tryingtopieceallof

thistogether.

WhenWesreachedthegatetothepool,hegrabbedthetopofitandvaultedoverinonesmoothmotion.

Hisloafersslappedonthecementwhenhelandedontheotherside.

Brodiefinallyfiguredoutwhatwasgoingon.Heglaredatme.
Iglaredback,hatinghimwitheverythingIhad.“Whydon’tyoujuststandthereanddonothing,

asshole?!”

“Fine,”Brodiegrunted.Heclimbedontothebalconyrailingandhalfsquatted,hisbarefeetseesawing

ontherailingashestruggledtokeephisbalance.Hewasgoingtojumplikeaprofessionalwrestlerfrom
thetoprope.

“Don’t,Brodie!”
Theironrailingbowedinwardfromhisweightashejumped.
RightwhenWeswasdivingintothepool.
Theyweregoingtohiteachother.
BrodiewasgoingtokillWesbyaccident,smashinghisfaceintothebottomofthepool.
Therewasahugesplashasbothmenhitthewateratthesametime.
“Ohmygoodness!”Mrs.Wisergasped.
Iranpastherandheadedforthepool.BythetimeIgotdowntothefence,allIcouldseewasthe

foamingwaterfizzingonthesurfaceofthepool.Igrabbedthedoorknobforthegateanddiscoveredit
waslocked.Ohyeah.Itwasalwayslockedandyouneededakey.Great.Mypoolkeywasinmy
apartment.Itriedclimbingoverthegate,butwiththetrainofmydresssmotheringmyfeet,itwasn’tgoing
tohappen.Iturnedtorunupstairsformykeys.

Petrakcamerushingtowardme,hiskeysalreadyout.“Pleasemove.”
Itookastepbackandheopenedthegate.
Rightaswebothsteppedontothepooldeck,BrodieandWesburstthroughthesurfaceofthewater,

fightingoverthenecklace.

“Stopit,youidiots!”Iscreamed.
“What’sgoingonhere?!”Petrakshouted.
WesandBrodiekeptwrestlingandthrowingineffectivepunches,churningupwaterinthepool.
Itookahugebreathandshriekedatthetopofmylungs,
“STOOOOOOOOP!!!”
Finally,thetwomenseparated.
That’swhenInoticedPetrakheldacordlessphoneinhishand.Heliftedittohisear.“Yes?911?Yes.

Twomenarefightinginmyswimmingpool.Yes.Okay,yes.Theaddressis…”

Great.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Myneighborsstoodonthebalconysurroundingthepool,leaningontherailingandwatchingthedrama

intheirbathrobes,orstandingonthegroundflooroutsidethefencearoundthepool.

TwouniformedLAPDofficerswereinterviewingBrodieandWesseparately.Bothmenwerestill

wet,Wesinhisdamptuxedopants,Brodieinhisdampboxers.Bothhadtousledwethairandbothhad
towelswrappedaroundtheirbareshoulders,towelscourtesyofMrs.Wiser.

IheldAbram’snecklace.Tomysurprise,itwasn’tbroken,exceptfortheclasp,butthatwasasimple

fix,right?Otherthanthat,theonlythingwrongwithitwasthelonediamondmissingfromthechain.Was
itinthepool?Onthebalcony?Inthecourtyardbushes?

Whoknew?
ButIwassureAbramwouldwantanexplanation.Thefactthatonlyonediamondwasmissingwas

testimonytoAbram’scraftsmanship,areasonforhimtobeproudandhopefullyareasonforhimtonot
makeabigdealaboutthis,right?Imean,thenecklacehadatleastahundreddiamondsandonlyonewas
missing.

Whatwasonediamond?
Ifonly.

Abramwasgoingtokillsomebody.
Orthreesomebodies.
Whenthepolicewerefinished,nobodywantedtopresscharges.NotevenPetrak.Itwasn’tlike

anyonehadbrokentheapartment’sproperty.

JustAbram’s.
AndMadeline’sdress.I’msureshewouldlovemenow,darling.Shewasgoingtohateme.
Groan.
TheofficertalkingtoBrodietoldhimtogobacktohisapartmentandgetsomesleep.Brodienodded

andwalkedpastmeonhiswayout,tryingtocatchmyeye.

Irefusedtolookathim.
Hisshoulderssaggedashetrudgedupthestairsandacrossthebalconytowardhisapartment.Hekept

lookingatmebutIkeptignoringhimuntilhisdoorclosedandhewasgone.

Ifeltterrible.ButIhopedhefeltmoreterribleforwhathe’ddone.Ididn’tmakehimattackWes.That

wasonhim.ButIcouldn’thelpbutwonder,wasIabadpersonforkissingthemboth?Weeksapartwas
onething,butkissingthemonedayapartfeltalittlebiticky.No,itwasn’tlikeIkissedBrodielastnight.
Hekissedme.Ijustgrabbedhisshirtandwentalongwhereverhetookme.SowhatifIlikedit?Thatwas
hisfault.AndwhenWeskissedmeacouplehoursago,Brodiewasthefurthestthingfrommymind.So
manythingshadhappenedsincekissingBrodie,Icouldhardlybeblamedforforgetting.I’dbeen
completelysweptawayinthemoment.Imean,I’dspenttheprevioussixteenhoursassaultedbyMadeline
Kettner,AbramCohen,LucaRossi,andTorithemakeupartistandherassistantsastheytransformedme
intoaprincess.ThenI’dbeenthrownontotheoneandonlyrealredcarpettofaceanonslaughtof
paparazzitakingmypicturewhiletheworld’smostfamousmoviestarschattedwithmeoneafterthe
other.Iwassooverstimulatedbytheendofthenight,therewasliterallynoroomleftinmybraintothink
aboutanything,notevenBrodie.IjustwentwithWes’kiss.

Andherewewere.
WesfinishedtalkingwiththepoliceandcameuptomewhereIsatontheedgeofavinylloungechair

neartheglowingbluepool.IhadoneofMrs.Wiser’stowelswrappedaroundmyshoulderstoo.

AlthoughI’dknottedthetornstrapofmydresstogether,itwasnicetohavethetowelformodesty’s

sake,andforwarmth.Nowthattheintensityofthemomenthadfaded,Iwasgettingcoldinthepre-dawn
chill.

Wessatdownnexttomeandrestedhiselbowsonhisknees.“Sorryaboutallthis.”
“It’snotyourfault.Brodieattackedyou.”
“Yeah,butIcould’vebackeddown.Ididn’thavetogoallalpha.”
Iturnedandoureyesmet.“You’reright,youdidn’t.”Iclosedmyeyesandshookmyhead.“Here’s

yournecklace.Oneofthediamondsismissingandtheclaspisbroken.That’sprobablymyfault.”My
faultforkissingyouthenightafterIkissedBrodie.Myfaultforagreeingtogoonadatewithyouin
thefirstplace.MyfaultforlettingyouwalkmetomydoorwhenmydoorisrightnexttoBrodie’s.
Brilliantidea,Jane.Irolledmyeyesatmyself.Tobefair,thiswasthefirsttimeI’deverhadtwomen
interestedinmeatthesametime.Heck,thiswasthefirsttimeI’deverhadtwomeninterestedinme
duringthesameyear.Ididn’tknowhowthesethingsworked.Datingmultiplemenhadalwaysbeenmy
sister’sdepartment,notmine.

Wespattedmyknee.“Nah.Youweren’ttheonewhosteppedonAbram’snecklaceandthrewitinthe

pool.Butdon’tworryaboutit.I’llsmooththingsover.”

“No,Wes.I’masmuchtoblameasyouare.FindouthowmuchthemissingdiamondcostandI’llpay

forit.”

“No.”
“Whatdoyoumeanno?IsaidI’llpayforit.”

“Youwereright.Ishould’vebackeddown.IshouldhavepolitelywalkedawaywhenBrodiegotinmy

face.Orattheveryleasttriedtotalkthingsoutinsteadofegginghimon.”Hetiltedhisheadbackand
lookedupatthenightsky,sighing.“Thatwasreallystupidofme.I’manadult.Ishouldknowbetter.”

“Wes,I’llpayforit.”
“Lemmeseethenecklace.”
Ihandedittohim.
“Where’sthemissingstone?”
Ipointeditout.“See?It’sjustthatonelittlediamond.Andtheclasp.”
Hesmirked,“Idon’tknowifyourealizethis,butthislookstomelikeaonekaratdiamond.Onthelow

end,itcouldbeworththreegrand.KnowingAbram,it’snotthelowend.Itcouldbeashighastenor
twelve.”

“Thousanddollars?”Igasped.
Wesnodded.
Ididn’thaveeventhreethousanddollarstospare.EspeciallywhenIwasoutofajob.Thecostof

livinginLAwoulddepletemysavingsquicklyifIwasn’tworking.And,untilIgotmyidentitycrisis
sortedout,I’dbehardpressedtofindajob.Whoknewsuchasimplethingaslookinglikesomeoneelse
couldcreatesomanyproblems?

Wespouredthenecklacecarefullyintoonehandandcuppeditprotectively.Herubbedmybackwith

hisfreehand.“I’lltakecareofit,Sunflower.Noneofthiswasyourfault.”

Ifheonlyknew.Iwasdisgustedwithmyself.I’dturnedintoakissingslutwithoutrealizingit.“Maybe

youshouldstopcallingmeSunflower,”Imuttered.

Nowitwashisturntogivemealook.Hejuststaredatme.“Istheresomethingbetweenyouand

Brodie?”

Icouldn’tlookathim,soIexaminedoneofmynailscarefully.Ithadbeentorndowntothequickwhen

I’dgrabbedBrodieonthebalcony.Itstung,butnotaspainfullyasthestingofguiltandembarrassment.
“No.Maybe.Idon’tknow.Isortofkissedhimlastnight.”

“Youkissedhim?”Hesoundedshocked.Andmaybealittlebithurt.
“Lastnight.BeforeIkissedyou.Thatwasalifetimeago.Anyway,itwasthefirsttime.Hejustmoved

inaweekago.Idon’tevenreallyknowtheguy.”Iwasmakingweakexcuses.

“Butyoukissedhim?”Histonewascoldandalittlebitdisgusted.
“IkissedyouandIbarelyknowyou.You’renotevenmyneighbor.”Iscowledatmyself.WhyhadI

addedthatlastpartaboutneighbors?

Wes’facediedrightbeforemyeyes.“Oh,great.WhatamIthen?Thirdinline?Fourth?Fifth?”He

shookhishead.“Ishould’veknownawomanasbeautifulasyouwouldhaveothermeninherlife.”

“Therearenoothermen,Wes!”Iwantedtoadd,I’mnotaslutwhoslutsaroundwithfiveguysatthe

sametime!Onlytwo!Icringed.TherewasnothingIcouldsay.

“ExceptforBrodie,”hemuttered,sayingitforme.Herolledhiseyes,refusingtolookatme.
Iwinced.“Maybethiswasabadidea,Wes.”
“What,tonight?Ormeingeneral?”
“Idon’tknow,”Isighed.Ihadnoideawhattodoorsaytomakethisbetter.
MaybetherewasnothingIcoulddo.
Wesslowlystoodandranhishandthroughhisdamphairbeforestaringdownatme.“Maybeyouneed

tofigurethingsout.ButI’lltellyouonething.Brodieisabadidea.I’magoodidea.”Hisvoicehada
quietconviction,butitwastingedwithdisappointmentandmaybeahintofdoubt.

Washejudgingme?
JudgingBrodie?
Forasplitsecond,IwantedtorushtoBrodie’sdefense.Iwantedtosayhewasn’talwayslikethis.He

wasmisunderstood.Hehelpedautistickids.He’dsavedmefromLesterWhatever.Andhe’dfixedmy
doorlikehe’dpromised.Butthatsoundedpatheticallynaive.IbarelyknewBrodie.And,hewastheone
whopunchedWeswithoutasecondthought.Weshadmerelydefendedhimself.DidBrodiethinkhe
ownedme?Afteronekiss?And,didhepunchhiswayoutofeveryproblem?Orjustwhenitcameto
women?

Ididn’twanttothinkaboutit.
Confused,IgaveWesapleadinglook.
Heclosedhiseyesandsaid,“Ihavetogo.Don’tworryaboutthediamond.I’lltakecareofitwith

Abram.”Therewassadnessinhisvoice.Hesighedandturnedaway.“MaybeI’llseeyouaround,
Chelsea.”

Hedidn’tcallmeSunflower.
Hetookasteptowardthepoolgate.
Allofthisfeltlikeanominousandtragicending.
No,Iwouldn’tletthingsendthisway.IshottomyfeetandreachedoutforWes.
Atthatexactmoment,hestoppedandspunaroundtofaceme.“Oneotherthing.”
“Yeah?”Isaidhopefully,clutchingthetowelaroundmyshoulders.
“Idon’tknowifyounoticed,butthere’spaintalloverthebackofyourdress.”
“What?!”Igasped,twistingtolook.Hewasright.Myasswascoveredinathinhazeofass-shaped

driedpaint.Itmust’vehappenedwhenBrodieknockedmeintomyfrontdoor.

“Idon’tthinkMadelinewillneeditback.Dowhateveryouwantwithit.”Heturnedandwalked

towardthepoolgate,stoppinglongenoughtofoldhistowelandhandittoMrs.Wiser,whohethanked
graciouslybeforewalkingtowardthefrontgateoftheapartmentbuilding.Afterhepushedthroughit,it
slammedshutautomaticallyonitsspring.Aresoundingclankrattledtheironwork.

I’dheardthatsoundathousandtimessincemovingin.
Neverhaditsoundedsodismallyfinal.
Aperfectendingtoaperfectevening.

Chapter24

Myphonewokemethenextmorning.
“Yeah?”Isaidsleepily.
Chelseascreamedoverthephone,“Jane!DidyouwatchtheOscarslastnight?!OhmyGod!Please

tellmeyouwatchedtheOscars!”

IwasattheOscars.“No.Why?”
“Itriedcallingyoulastnighttotellyoutoturniton,butyouneveransweredyourphone.”
“Sorry.Iturneditoffbyaccident.”Actually,ithadbeeninWes’tuxedojacketallnightonmute.He’d

givenitbackonthewayhomeinhislimo.ButthankstoBrodie,I’ddroppeditduringtheirfightandthe
screenwasnowcracked.StupidBrodie.

Irubbedmyeyes.“Whattimeisit?”
“Nine-thirty.”
“Aren’tyousupposedtobeatwork?”
“Iamatwork.Ihavemeetingsalldaystartingatten,soIcalledyouwhileIhadtime.Okay,doa

Googlesearchfor‘mysterywomaninreddresstakesOscarsbystorm’.”

“DoIhavetodoitnow?”Igroaned,myeyesstillclosed.Iknewwherethiswasgoing.
“Yes!Youwillflipwhenyouseethearticle.Justdoit,Jay!Please!Googleit!”
“Okay.Holdon.”Itypedinwhatshe’dsaid,beingcarefulofthebrokenscreen.“WhatdoIclickon?”
“ClickontheYahooNewsarticle.Itshouldbenearthetop.”
Idid.Afterthepageloaded,Iscrolleddown.Sureenough,apictureofmeposingonthatredcarpet

stagealone.Captionssaying,MysterywomanChelseaJohnson,atotalunknown,sweepsWesley
CallawayandeveryoneattheOscarsofftheirfeet.MorephotosofmewithWesontheredcarpet.Andat
theVanityFairafterparty.Fantastic.

Nowtherewasproof.
Anditwasallovertheinternet.
“Diditloadyet?”Chelseaaskedwithhighexcitement.
“Yeah.”
“Aren’tyoufreakingout?”
“Yeah,freakingout,”Ideadpanned.
“Shehasmynameandlooksalmostexactlylikeme!Canyoubelieveit?!Ihaveabonafidereal-life

double!”

“Doppelgänger.”
“Doppelwhat?”
“Gänger.Yourdouble.Specifically,youreviltwin.”Thatwasanunderstatement.FakeChelsea

Johnsonhadalreadycausedmoretroublethananarmyofeviltwinsridingthroughtownonaregimentof
evilhorseswhilesettingfiretoeveryhouseinsight.WhatmorecouldEvilChelseaaccomplishbythe
endofthisphonecall?Icouldonlyimagine.

“Hey,doyoustillhavethatcold?Yourvoicesoundsoff.”
“Oh,right.”Ifakedacough.Nope,justhaveadifferentvoiceboxinmyneck.Nothingtoworry

about.

“Anyway,isn’tthiscrazy?Mehavingadouble?”
“DoMomandDadknow?”

“Yeah!TheyweretheoneswhotoldmetoturnontheOscars!Youneedtocallthem,bytheway.”
“Yeah.Ido.”
“Whodoyouthinksheis?”
“Who?”
“Mydouble.Doyouthinkshe’srelatedtous?Imean,howcouldshenotbe?Somedistantcousinor

something?”

Haha.ExactlythelieI’dbeentellingpeoplelikeMrs.Wiser.“Doweevenhavedistantcousins?”
“Wedonow,”Chelseasaid.“Wouldn’titbecoolifwecouldtrackherdown?Imean,howweird

woulditbeformetomeetherfacetoface?Likefindingoutaboutthelonglosttwinyouneverknewyou
had.Iwonderifwehavethesamebirthday?”

“Probablynot,”Igroaned.
“Howdoyouknow?”
Becauseourbirthdaysaren’tthesame.“Trustme,Chelz.Shedoesn’t.”
Somethingaboutherexcitementwasjusttoomuch.I’dhaditwithallofthis.Iwastiredofthelying.

Lookwhereithadgottenme?Iwasoutofajobandhadguysattackingeachotherbecauseofme.Wes,
Brodie,andthatstalkerguyatRalphs,LesterWhatever.AndIwasn’tevenme!Thisbeautifulthingwas
forthebirds.Iwassickofit.Aftermeredays,Ididn’twanttobeasupermodelanymore.

Ijustwantedtogobacktobeingme.
Chelseasaid,“IwonderifshehasaFacebookpage?Duh!Whydidn’tIcheckbefore?Holdona

secondwhileIdoaFacebooksearchandseewhatcomesup.”

“She’sme,Chelsea.”
“What?”
“Isaid,she’sme.”
“Who?”
“Yourdouble.ThefakeChelseaJohnson.She’sme.”
“Veryfunny,”shesaidabsently.“Holdon,I’msearchingtheChelseaJohnsonsonFacebookright

now.”

“She’sme,”Isaidwithsomeirritation.“Thegirlontheredcarpetisme,Chelsea.”
“Uhhuh,”Chelseasaid.
“PutmeonFaceTime.”
“Holdon.I’mstillsearchingFacebook.”
“Chelsea!PutmeonFaceTime,Goddamnit!”
“Allright,allright!Relax.”Amomentlater,herfaceappearedonmyiPhonescreen.“Holdon.There

mustbesomethingwrongwithmyphone.I’mstillseeingmyself.”

“Chelsea!You’relookingatme!!!”
Sheblinkedseveraltimes.“What?”
Iturnedmyphonearoundtoshowmyentirebedroom,thenbacktomyface.“See!Thisisme!You’re

inyourofficeatwork!I’minmyapartment!AndIlooklikeyoureviltwin!”

“Ha!”Chelseajuststaredatthephone,notbelievingit.Icouldrelate.Ittookamomentortentosink

in.

“Chelsea,watchmymouth.Thisismetalkingtoyou.YoursisterJane.”
Shefrown-smiled.“Isthissomekindofaprank?”
“Nope.”
“Oh,Iknow.Isthissomenewappthatswapsfaces?BecauseI’veusedthoseandtheyworkpretty

well.”

“JesusChrist,Chelsea!I’mnotanapp!Thisisme!Ilooklikeyounow!”
“How?That’snotevenpossible,Jay.”

“Idon’tknowhow!Ithappenedlastweek!Areyougettingitnow?”
“Jane,Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingon.”
“Meneither,Chelz.Butthisisme.Idon’tlooklikeIusedto.”
“Wait,areyouserious?”Shestilldidn’tbelieveme,butshewasstartingtoconsiderit.
“I’mdeadlyserious.I’malsolike5’9”.I’mtallerthanyou.Andno,Ididn’tgetplasticsurgerysince

youwerehereaweekago.Nobodyhealsuptoperfectinsevendays.”

Shestaredatmethroughthephone,hereyessearchingmyfaceforalmostaminute.“No…No.”She

shookherhead,blinkingnervously.

“Yes,Chelsea.Yes.”
“Thisisimpossible.”
“Wasimpossible.”Iwaitedwhileshethoughtaboutit.
“But…how?”
“Magic?Idon’tknow.IthoughtIwasdreamingwhenIfirstwokeuplikethis.Butnope,Iturned

into…”Ihalfsmiledandlaughed,“intoyou.Kindof.”

Shesquintedandbroughtherphoneclosetoherface,examiningmyimage.SoIheldmyphonecloser

tomyfaceandmoveditaroundslowlysoshecouldseemefromeveryangle.Myphonemayhavebeen
cracked,butherswasn’t.Shecouldseemyimageperfectly.“Thisisn’tsurgery.Itisn’tamask.Oranapp.
It’sme.”

“Whatthehell,Jay?”
“Exactly.”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

JustlikewithGeorge,IspentoveranhouronFaceTimewithChelseatryingtoconvinceherIhad

actuallychangedintosomeoneelse.Fortunately,IknewsomanydetailsaboutChelsea,thingsgoingback
towhenwewerelittle,itwasn’tashardtoconvinceher.Onceshefinallybelievedme,Ibroughtherup
tospeedonhowI’dbeendeathlyillforalmostfivedaysbeforewakinguplikethis,howI’dlostmyjob,
kissedBrodieandWes,andtheirfight.

“HaveyoutoldMomandDad?”Chelzasked.
“Ha!Areyoukidding?They’dneverbelieveit.Youbarelydo.”
“True.Wow,Jay.Itjustdoesn’tmakeanysense.Like,it’sscientificallyimpossible.”
“Iknow,right.It’slike,eversinceIwokeupwiththisringonmyfinger,I—”
“Wait.Whatring?”
“Thisone.”Iheldituptothephone.
“Where’dyougetthat?Thatlooksexpensive.”
“IthoughtItoldyou.”
“No.”
Itookadeepbreath.“Rememberafterspeeddatinghownoneoftheguysemailedmeformynumber?”
“Yeah?”
“Well,that’swhenIwentforawalkandstumbledonWes’grandmother’smansion.That’swhereI

foundthering.Inhisgrandmother’svanity.”

“Didyoustealit?”
“No!Hedidn’tevenwantit.”
“Letmeseeitagain.”
Iheldituptothephone.
“Whywouldhenotwantthat?Itlookslikeit’sworthafewgrandatleast.Moreifthat’stwenty-four

karatgold.”

“Ithinkitis.Butitdidn’tlooklikethiswhenIgotit.Itwaslike,Idon’tknow,somecheapbrassring

you’dgetatafleamarketforfiftycents.”

“Huh?”
MemoriesofWes’estatesalecamefloodingback.
TheonlyreasonI’dkepttheringwasasamementoofthemomentwhenthehandsomerichand

powerfulWesCallawayhadbeennicetoalittlenerdgirlwho’dlostherwayandfoundhis
grandmother’smansioninthemiddleofnowhere.Istartedtotearupthinkingaboutit.Thathadbeena
specialmoment.MorespecialthangoingtotheOscarslookinglikeasupermodelandmeetingallthose
celebritiesandhavingmypicturetakenathousandtimesjustbecauseIwasbeautiful.Thatdidn’tmatter.
Noneofitdid.Whatmatteredwasthatmomentwhereahandsomestrangerhadbeennicetolittlenerdy
me.Thatwasreal.ThatwassomethingIwantedback.

Iwantedtobeme,notbeautiful.
Isniffedawaytears,“Iwanttobemeagain,Chelz.”
“Yeah,buthow?”
“It’sthering.Ithinkitmademethisway.”
“Howdoesthatmakeanysense?”
“Idon’tknow.Itjustdoes.There’snootherpossibleexplanation.Ithastobethering.”
“So,what,youtakeitoffandchangeback?”
“Ithinkso.ButIhavetoleaveitoff.Ittookmefivedaysoftorturetogettohere,soit’llprobablytake

fivetogetback.That’slogical,right?”

“Whatifyoutakeitoffandyoudon’tchangeback?”
Icringed.“It’spossible.Buttheonlywaytofindoutistotry.”
“Won’titmakeyousickagain?”
“Probably?ButforallIknow,thisstupidringisgivingmecanceranyway.I’mprobablybetteroff

withoutit.”

“Howdoyoufeelrightnow?”
“Ifeelgreat,”Ismiled.
AworriedlooktightenedChelsea’sface,“Maybetakingtheringoffisabadidea.”
“Onlyonewaytofindout.”

Chapter25

Twodayslater,Iwokeinexcruciatingpain.I’dtakentheringoffaftertalkingtoChelsea.
Inpreparation,I’dstockeduponwaterandextra-strengthTylenol,whichIkeptnearmybed.I’d

alreadytakenhalfthebottleandithadn’thelped.IwasstartingtoworryI’dpoisonmyselfonpainkillers
beforethiswasover.

I’dneverbeenhookedonheroinorpainkillers,orbeenaddictedtocigarettesoralcohol,orbeen

throughwithdrawalsymptomsofanykind,butsomethingtoldmeminewereasbadastheycouldeverget.

Forthepasttwodays,everywakingmoment,(whichwerefewbecausethepainwasasintensethis

timeasithadbeenthefirsttime),mademewanttoputtheringbackon.Nottobebeautiful.Justtomake
thepaingoaway.Ididn’thavethefeverandcoldsweatsthatpeoplegotwithregularwithdrawals,butmy
bodyfeltlikeithadbeenrunoverbyanarmyofchargingelephants.

Iwasn’texaggerating.
Mybodyliterallyfeltshattered.
Mybones,mymuscles,myjoints,myskin,myhair,mynails,everymicroscopicinchofmeburned

withfierypain.

Wasthisworthit?
Itdidn’tseemlikeit.
Ifbeingnormalmeantbeinginthismuchpain,whynotstaybeautiful?
No.
Iwasseeingthisthrough.
Iwasgoingbacktobeingme.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

MybedroomwasdarkwhenIwokeagain.
Ididn’tknowwhatdayitwas.
Theonlythingthatmatteredwasmysplittingheadacheandmystabbingneedtopee.Icrawledtothe

bathroom,barelymakingit.After,Iclimbedtostandingandleanedagainstmybathroomsink.

Iflippedonthelights.
Andimmediatelyregretteddoingit.
Myfacelookedlopsided.Likeithadbeencrushedinaviseorrunoverbyadumptruck.Ididn’tlook

likesupermodelmeorevenregularme.Ilooked…

Deformed.
Igasped.
Hadsomethinggonewrong?
Fearseizedme.
WasIgoingtolooklikethisforever?
WhatifIdid?
Ohnoohnoohno!!
Buttherealityofitstaredrightbackatme.
Ilookedhorrible.
TearsfilledmyeyesandIswipedthelightswitchoff.Indarkness,Istumbledbacktomybed,deeply

afraidforthefirsttimesinceallthisstarted.

Asanotherblastofpurepainexplodedinmyskull,onethoughtspunthroughmyheadlikeawashing

machineonspincycle:

Deformed.
—deformeddeformeddeformeddeformeddeformeddeformeddeformeddeformeddeformed

deformeddeformeddeformeddeformeddeformed—

Chapter26

Agentlechimewokeme.
Thesoftlightofdawntrickledthroughmyblinds.
Ipickedupmyphone.
Thescreenwasblurred.
Isquintedmyeyes,tryingtosee.Nouse.Mygoodvisionwasgone.Ifumbledaroundonmynightstand

formyglassesandfoundthemrightwhereI’dleftthem.Islidthemonandcouldreadmyphone.

Anewemail.
Ididn’twanttodealwithemailrightnow.
Isetmyphonedownandstaredatmybedroomceiling.Liftedmyglasses.Everythingblurred.Putmy

glassesbackon.Everythingwassharponceagain.

Mybodydidn’thurtanymore.
Actually,Ifeltfine.
ButhowdidIlook?
DidIwanttoknow?
Whatmonstermightbewaitingformeinthemirror?
Consideringmyself-esteemhadneverrevolvedaroundmylooks,Iclimbedoutofbedandwalkedto

mybathroomwithpurpose.WhateverIlookedlike,I’ddealwithit.I’dmadeitthisfarinlifelookinglike
anuglyduck,soIcouldmakeittherestoftheway.

Standinginthedarkbathroom,myhandhoveredoverthelightswitch,poisedtoflipiton.Icouldn’t

bringmyselftolook.

ButIhadtolook.
OutloudIcounted,“Five.Four.Three.Two…”Icringedandsqueezedmyeyesshut.“Heregoes

nothing…”

Flippedonthelights.
Peekedthroughoneeye.
Thentheother.
MyplainoldfacewasthemostbeautifulthingI’deverseen.
Relief.
Iwasmeagain.
Me!
Ismiledbig,happierthanever.
Myphonechimedagain,signalingyetanothernewemail.Iwalkedintomybedroomandpickeditup.

Readtoday’sdate.

Sunday.
Wow.
Thistime,I’dbeenoutforsixdays.
Sixwholedays.
AtleastIdidn’thavetoworryaboutlosingmyjob.I’dalreadylostit.Icheckedemailbriefly,but

thereweretoomanytodealwith.IdidnoticeonefromExtremeSpeedDatingLA,butthatwasprobably
justasalesemailfortheirnextevent.I’ddeleteitlater.

Scrollingthroughmyunreadtexts,IsawChelseahadcheckedinseveraltimes.Itextedherback

brieflytosayeverythingwasfineandIwasbacktonormal.TextsfromGeorge.Ihadtoldhiminadvance
Iwastakingtheringoff.Hehadofferedtocomebytohelpout,butIhadtoldhimI’ddoitalone.Itexted
himthateverythingwentgreatandI’dcallsoon.TextsfromWes.Abunchofthem.Ididn’twanttoread
them.Hewastextingsupermodelme,notplainme.Ideletedourentireconversationwithoutlookingat
hisnewtexts.Ireallydidn’twanttoknow.Hehadalsoleftmeseveralvoicemails.JustasIwasaboutto
callmyvoicemailtodeletethem,myphonerang.

Igasped,thinkingitwasWes.
Nope.Chelsea.
Withgreatrelief,IhittheFaceTimebutton.
“Jane!”Chelseabeamed.“It’syou!”
“Yeah,”Ismiledfeelingincrediblyhappy.“It’sme.”
“Wow,howareyou?”
“I’mgreat.Howareyou?”
“Fine.So,wasitbad?”
“Changingback?Prettymuchthesameasbefore,”Ilied.Ishudderedatthememoryofmydeformed

face.Iwouldneversharethatmomentwithanyone.Mypreferencewouldbetoneverrememberit.

“Istillcan’tbelieveanyofthishappened.”
“Iknow,it’sbeyondweird.Butithappened.Nowit’sallinthepast.I’mme!”Ismiled,giggling.
“Yesyouare.Andyou’veneverlookedbetter.”
Ipushedmyglassesupmynose,“Thanks,Chelz.”
“Ican’twaittoseeyouFriday.”
“That’sright!You’vegotyoursalesmeetingorwhatever.”
“Newclient.Yeah,it’sgonnabegreattoseeyou.Oh,you’renevergoingtobelievethis,”shesaid

withhighexcitement.“PeopleatworkthinkIwasattheOscars!”Shelaughed.

Iwaspartamusedandpartworried.“Whatdidyoutellthem?”
“Ijustsaiditwasacoincidence.”
“Didpeoplebelieveyou?”Ihadahardtimebelievinganyofthepasttwoweekshadhappenedtome,

andI’dlivedit.Butyoucouldn’tdenyhundredsofphotosandvideossplashedallovertheinternet.

“MostlytheythoughtIwaslying.SomeoftheguysatworkwentallconspiracytheoryandsaidIhad

plentyoftimetogettoLA,gototheOscars,andbebackatworkonMondaymorning.Itwasreallykind
ofcrazy.”

“Ibetitwas.”Ihopedthisdidn’tsomehowcomebacktobitebothofusintheass.
“So,nowthatyou’reyouagain,what’snext?”
“Lookforajob.Igotletgo,remember?”
“Maybeyoucangetyouroldjobback.”
“Maybe,”Isaiddoubtfully.
“Youshouldtry.Whathaveyougottolose?”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

“Jane.Whatareyoudoinghere?”DougWallacestoodinthemanager’sboothatthe95CentStore.It

wasMondayafternoon,neartheendofhisshift.“Andwhyareyoudressedforwork?”

“Hey,Doug,”Ismiled,wearingmyblue95CentStorevestoveroneofmyusualworkblousesand

slacks.Dresslikeyoualreadyhavethejob,right?

“Didyoucomeforyourlastcheck?”heasked.
Ornot.“Uhhhh…”

“Jane!”
IturnedandsawMariawalkingintothestorewithherpurseoverhershoulder,hervestalreadyon.

ThereliefIfeltwhensherecognizedmewasoverwhelming.Herarmswerewideassheranaroundthe
nearestregisterandheadedstraightformeandhuggedmetight.Istartedtotearupandhuggedherback.

Shegasped,“Weweresoworriedaboutyou!Whathappened,girl?Youdisappearedforliketwo

weeks!”Sheheldmebybotharms,lookingmeover.“Areyouokay?”

“I’mfine.Iwasjust…”IcastaglanceatDoug.“Iwasreallysick.SosickIcouldn’tcallin.”
“Really?”Mariaasked.“Wasitserious?”
“Yesandno.It…it’scomplicated.WhatmattersisI’mfinenow.”
Shenoticedmy95CentStorevest.“Whyareyoudressedforwork?AreyoutakingoverforDoug

tonight?”Shelookedathimhopefully.

IleveledalookatDoug.“Tonight?Aren’tyouoffatfive,Doug?”
Hesmirked,“I’mhandlingeveningsuntilwecangetRickMartinezbackfillingin.Hopefullyby

Friday.”

“RickMartinez?”Isaid.“FromtheVenicestore?WhathappenedtothatguyPhil?Whatwashisname?

PhiltheTurdBurger?”

“PhilBerger,”Dougcorrected.
“IlikeTurdBurgerbetter,”Mariagiggled.“Hegrabbedmyasshisthirddayhere.”
“Noway!”Igasped,coveringmygapingmouthwithmyfingers.
“Yeahway.Thathijodeputawasaperv.TriedtograbNatalietoo.”Shepursedherlipsandshook

herhead.“Sucioverga.Anyway,Dougfiredhisass,right?”

Douggrimaced,“Language,Maria.”DougspokeSpanish,sohekneweverythingMariawassaying.
“It’strue!MeandNataliecametoworkearlylastThursdaytotellDougeverything.Hefiredthat

pendejoonFridayandworkedhisshiftthatnight.”

“Maria,please,”Dougwarned.
“Relaaaaax,jefe.I’mjusttellingJanewhathappened,yo.”
IgaveDougalonglook.
Hisfacewigglednervously.
“Douuuuuug,”Isingsonged.“Ibetyou’dlovetogohometoPamandMatthewrightnowandhave

dinnerwiththem.”

“Iwouldbut—”
Icutin,“Butyouneedaqualifiedmanagertotakeoverforyou.Maria,whodoweknowwhocanrun

thisstoreonshortnotice?”

MariasmirkedatDoug.“She’sright,jefe.NobodyisbetterthanJane.”
Rightthen,Nataliewalkedinwithherusualquietpresence.Shesmiledbigwhenshesawmeand

joinedthethreeofus.Wehugged.“Hey,Jane.Didyoucomeback?”

IgrinnedatDoug.“What’sPammakingtonight?Lasagna?Ormaybepastaprimavera?”IknewDoug

lovedItalianfood.“Whyhavecoldleftoversaftermidnightwhenyoucaneatithotrightnow?Ifyou
leaveatfive,youcanbehomebeforeyourdinnergetscold.”

“Whatshesaid,”Mariagrinned.
NataliejustsmiledandnoddedatDoug.
Dougrolledhiseyes,“Willyouthreestop?”
“NottillyouletJaneback,”Mariasaiddefiantly.
Dougplantedhishandsonthecounterofthemanager’sboothandgrumbleddownatus.“Youcanstop

steamrollingme,ladies.LetmecallStacyLewisandmakesureit’sokay.”

“Doit!”Mariasaidhopefully.
Dougfrownedatme,“Youknow,Jane,Stacyisgoingtowantadoctor’snoteofsomekind.Youwere

gonefortwoweekswithoutanexplanation.Anotewillgoalongwaytomakingmeandherfeelbetter
abouteverything.”

“IwishIhadone,Doug,”Ipleadedurgently.“ButIdidn’tgotothedoctor.Iwastoosicktogetoutof

bed.Youhavetobelieveme.”Iheldmybreath.EverythingdependedonhowmuchDougtrustedme.

Hearchedasuspiciouseyebrow.
“She’stellingthetruth,jefe,”Mariasaid.
“Howwouldyouknow,Maria?”heaskedthoughtfully.“Wereyouthere?”
Icringed,expectinghertostartspinningsomeliethatIwouldhavetosomehowcorroborateonthe

spurofthemoment.

“WhenhasJaneeverliedtoyou,jefe?Oranyofus?”
Natalieshruggedandnodded.
IsmiledatDoug.“I’mtellingthetruth,Doug.Pleasebelieveme.”
Doug’seyessearchedmine.I’dknowntheguyfiveyears.Thathadtocountforsomething.Hisface

softened.“Okay,okay!AsfarasI’mconcerned,Janeisbackonthejobstartingtonight.ButIstillhaveto
smooththingsoverwithcorporatefirst.”

“Toma!”Mariaclappedhappily.“I’msogladyou’reback,hermana!”Shehuggedmeagain,jumping

upanddown.

“Metoo,Maria.”
NatalierubbedmyshoulderandIturnedandhuggedhertoo.
DougmadeaphonecalltoStacyLewis.Wealllistenedinwhilehetalked,unsureofhowthings

wouldturnout.IcrossedmyfingersandMariadidtoo.Dougnoddedalotwhilehespoke,sayingthings
like,“Yes,sure.Ofcourse.”Whenhefinallyhungup,heturnedtomeandsmiled.“Guesswho’sbackon
thejob?”

Ibeamed,“Really?!”
“Really.”Dougreacheddownandshookmyhand.“Goodtohaveyouback,Jane.”
Thatevening,afterDougwasgoneanditwasjustmeandMariaandNatalierunningthings,I’dnever

beenhappiertobethenightmanageratthe95CentStore.

Itwasthesimplethingsthatcounted.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Thenextmorning,Igotoutofbed,putmyglasseson,andsmiledatmyselfinthebathroommirror.
Myplainoldreflectionsmiledbackatme.
Iwassohappytobeme.
Whileeatingabowloforganiccornflakes,IthumbedthroughmyemailsonmybrokeniPhone.Mostly

junk,includingtheonesfromExtremeSpeedDatingLA.IwasabouttodeletethemwhenInoticedthe
subjectlineonthelatestoneread:Yourbelatedmatches.

Belated?
Iopenedtheemailandskimmedit.AnapologyfromthecompanyfollowedbyGoodnews!Youhave

onemorematch!

Onemore?Howaboutoneonly?
ItwasfromMike.
WhowasMikeagain?Ihadonlyahazymemoryofwhathelookedlike.I’dbeenwearingmyglasses

whenwe’dmetthatnight,butthatseemedlikeayearago.

Iscrolleddownandreadhisnote.
Jane—

Iamsosorryfortakingsolongtoturninmyscorecardfromspeeddating.IfIhadachoice,I

would’vespenttheentireeveningwithyouthatnight,butrulesarerules.You’reprobablywondering
whyittookmesolongtocontactyou.Letmeexplain.Halfwaythroughthatnight,Igotpagedfor
work.IwishIhadsomesuperextremeexcuseforyou,likejumpingoutofanairplaneintoenemy
territoryorrescuingpeoplefromaburningbuilding,butIdon’t.Itwasjustwork.Businessasusual.
Notevenanemergency.Onthescaleofextremes,Iwouldn’tevengiveita2.Butsometimesbabies
don’tliketowait,andIhavetodropeverythingtogoandgetthem.Suchisthelifeofanobstetrician.

Wait,wasMikeadoctor?Ididn’trememberhimmentioningit,butwe’donlyhadfiveminutesand

spentmostofitflirting.

Hisemailcontinued:
IshouldhaveturnedinmyscorecardbeforeleavingReaXionthatnight,butIputitinmypocket

likeanabsentmindedprofessor,whichsoundsmoreromanticthanitactuallywas.Iwasjustthinking
aboutthatbaby.Afterthedelivery,Icouldn’tfindthescorecard.Believeme,Ilookedallover
everywheretryingtofindit,butI’dleftitinmyblazerpocketlikeanidiot.Ididn’tfindituntilI
pickedupmydrycleaningyesterday.Goodthingtheyfounditandsaveditforme!

Iscrolleddownandtherewasapictureofhimatadrycleaner’s,holdinguphisnavyblazerandhis

speeddatingscorecard.Hereallyhadagreatsmile.Andthosecuteblueeyes.NowIrememberedhim.
Un-extremeMike.

So,Jane,Iwouldlovetotakeyououtsometimeformorethanfiveminutes.Wecanhaveanun-

speeddate.Wecandosomethingmoreextremethanbreathingbutlessextremethanskydiving.I’ll
eveneatSatan’sfoodcakeifyouwant.Well,maybejustdevil’sfoodcake.Don’twanttotemptfateby
doingsomethingtooextreme.LOL

Wow,herememberedeverythingwe’dtalkedabout.
Callmesometime,Jane.
Itmightturnouttobethemostextremethingyou’veeverdone.
Yours,
Mike.
IwassmilingfromeartoearwhenIsetmyphonedownandputmycerealbowlinthesink.
WhatwasnottolikeaboutMike?

Chapter27

Becauseofourschedules,SaturdaywasthefirsteveningbothMikeandIhadfree.Istoodoutsidemy

apartmentbuilding,dressedinmynicestblackdress,waitingforhim.Ididn’twanthimcomingtomy
doorbecauseIdidn’twanttoriskBrodieseeinghimandbeatinghimup.Mikewastinycomparedto
Brodie.

Brodiecouldgofuckhimself.
Hehadn’tevenapologizedsinceattackingWesandmakingamessofthings.
Totalasshole.
OnlylaterdidIrealizeIdidn’tneedtoworryaboutBrodiebecauseIwasn’tChelseathesupermodel

anymore.IwasjustplainJane.Ohwell.Brodiecouldstillgofuckhimself.

AnewLexusfourdoordroveuptothecurb.Mikejumpedouttogetmydoor.Oncewewereinthecar,

hereachedovermynakedkneesandopenedtheglovebox.

“Gotsomethingforyou.”Hehandedmeathinpackagenotmuchbiggerthananenvelope.Itwas

wrappedinwhitewrappingpapercheckeredwithdozensofredchilipeppersandtiedwithacurlyred
ribbon.

“Whatisit?”
“Openit.”
Itoreitopenandsmiled.“Darkchocolatewithchilipeppers.Awww!Youremembered!”
Hewinked,“ItoldyouIwasextreme.”
“Thankyou,Mike.”Ireachedacrossthecenterconsoleandhuggedhim.
Hechuckled,hisblueeyessparkling.“Areyougonnaopenitnow?Oristhattooextreme?”
“Whatdoyouthink?Duh.”Itorethepackageopen.
“Whoa,Jane!Slowdown!Idon’tthinkIcanhandlethismuchextreme!”Helaughed.
Ibrokeoffapieceandhandedittohimthenpoppedasecondoneinmymouth.Webothchewedon

ourchocolate.

Inoddedthoughtfullyasthedarkchocolatemeltedinmymouthandthesweetturnedtospicy.“Thisis

good.Ireallylikethis.”

“Itoldyou.WhatI’mwonderingis,haveyoueverkissedsomeonewhileeatingspicychocolate?”His

blueeyestwinkled.Hereallywascute,despitehispinchedface.

“Ummm…”AllIcouldthinkaboutwasallthetroubleI’dgottenintobykissingguyswithoutthinking.

“CanIthinkaboutit?”

“Sure.Butdon’tforget,Ididgiveyouthemoreextremeoption.”
“Youdid,”Ismiled.“Andthankyouforoffering.”
Miketookmetodinner.Wereallyhadagreattime.Mikewasfunny.Mikewasnice.Mikewasn’t

nearlyasextremeashewantedtobe,unlessyouconsideredbeinganon-callobstetricianextreme.

IlikedMike.
Butthatwasit.
WhenMikedroppedmeoff,hewalkedmetomydoor.Bythen,I’drememberedthatBrodiewouldn’t

careifhesawlittlenerdgirlmebackfromadatewithMikethedoctor.KnowingBrodie,ifhewereto
seeme,he’dprobablyignoreme.SoIletMikekissmewhenheasked.Yes,heasked.Itwassocute.
HowcouldIsayno?Itwashissecondattempt.Icouldn’tbeartoshoothimdowntwice.PlainJane
wasn’tdatinganybodyelse,soIhadnoreasontofeelguiltyandIwentforit.

Thekisswas…justakiss.
Itwasn’tbad.Itwasjust…boring.
Hedidgrabme,butonlybytheelbow.Hewasbeingrespectful,butitwasn’texactlysexy.
After,hesmiledatme,giddy.“Ihadagreattimetonight,Jane.”
“Metoo,Mike.”WasIlyingtohim?No,hewasfun.Ihadlaughedalot.Thatwasagreattime,right?
“WhencanIseeyouagain?”
“Maybenextweekend?”NowIwaslying.Ididn’tseeafuturewithMike.WasIbeingshallow?

Maybe.No,itwasn’thislooks.Iwasfinewithhislooks.Itwasn’thisheight.Hewasshort,buthewas
tallerthanme.Itwas…thingsjustweren’tclicking.MaybeIwasabitch.MaybeIneededtogivehima
secondchance.“Youknowwhat?Nextweekendmightbegreat.”Mightbegreat.Might.Iforcedasmile.

Hedidn’t.Hissmilewaswideandgenuine.“Okaythen.Nextweekendwe’lldosomethingslightly

moreextremethandinner.”

“Promise?”
“Promise.”Hestoodtherewaiting,lookingatmeandsmiling.Smilingandlooking.Lookingand

smiling.

Ihopehedidn’twantmeaskinghiminsideforcocktails.
Hestuffedhishandsintohispockets.“Hey,um—”
“Ishouldprobablygetinsideandgettobed.”
“Oh,sure.Right.Hey,youaren’t,uh,freetomorrow,areyou?Imean,it’sSundayand…youknow…”
“Mysister’sintown.”Shewas.ShehadflowninThursdaynight,butshehaddecidedtostayatMom

andDad’sforthepasttwonightsbecauseshehadn’tseentheminsolong.“Ihaveplanswithher
tomorrow.”Wedidn’t,butmaybeitwastimeformetodriveouttoMomandDad’sforavisit.They
probablyfeltlikeI’dbeenavoidingthem,whichwassortoftrue.SoIwasn’treallylyingtoMike.

“Oh,okay.”Hepeckedmycheek.“G’night.”
“Goodnight,Mike.Thanksagain.Really.I’llcallyounextweek,okay?”
“Okay.”
WhenIclosedmyfrontdoorbehindme,Ifeltlikeanass.
WasIevergoingtocallMikeagain?
OrwasIjustleadinghimon?
Whoknew.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Thenextafternoon,aknockatmyfrontdoorstartledme.Ihoppedupfromthecouchanddroppedthe

librarycopyofGoneGirlI’dbeenreading.ItwasprobablyGeorge.He’dbesurprisedseeingmebackto
normal,buthe’dprobablyberelieved.

IknewIwas.
IstoodonmytiptoessoIcouldseethroughthepeephole.IhadamomenttothinkabouthowIhadn’t

neededtousetiptoeswhenIwasatallandleggysupermodel.NowIdid.Thatmeantthingswerebackto
normal.Ilikednormal.

ThroughthefisheyelensIsawBrodie.
Myfacesoured.
Whatdidhewant?
Despitemyirritation,myheartbeatfasteratthethoughtofhimcomingin.Ihopedhewaswearinga

shirt.Ireallydidn’twanttoseehisabstoday.

Iopenedthedoor.

Noshirt.Absallovertheplaceandsexyasalways.
Brodielookeddownatme,confused.“Hey,uh,whatwasyournameagain?”HerewasBrodie

showinghistruecolors.IfIwasn’tasupermodel,hedidn’tgiveashitaboutme.

Myfacesagged.“Jane.”
Hehalf-smiled,“Hey,Jane.Uh,howareyou?”
Didhereallywanttoknoworwashejustbeingpolite?Iheavedasighed.“I’mfine,Brodie.CanI

helpyouwithsomething?”

“HaveyouseenChelseaaround?”
“Nope.”
“Youknowwhenshe’sgonnabeback?It’sbeenlikeaweeksinceshewashere.Sheokay?”
“You’dhavetoaskher.”Ireallydidn’tcarewhetherBrodiewasworriedornot.Besides,whatwasI

goingtotellhim?Chelseathesupermodelwaseffectivelydead.IfItoldhimthat,he’daskallkindsof
stupidquestionsIwasn’tgoingtoanswer.

“Ifyouseeher,canyoutellherI’mlookingforher?”
Istaredathimforalongtime.WasIdisappointed?No.IalreadyknewwhatkindofmanBrodiewas.

Peopleonlydisappointedyouwhentheydidn’tmeetyourexpectations.Brodiehadmetmine.Shallow
manwhore.Itdidn’tmatterwhathedidforaliving.

ButIrefusedtoberudefornoreason.
Isighed,“I’llmakesuresheknowsyouwerelookingforher.”
“Thanks.”
“Anythingelse?”Chelseaisn’tgoingtoshowup,soyoucanleave.
“Nah.”Hejuststoodthere.Washegoingawayornot?
“Youknowwhat,Brodie?”
“Yeah?”
“ChelseamovedtoMilantopursuerunwaymodeling.”Itseemedreasonable,andwithanyluck,this

wouldbethelasttimeheeverknockedonmydoor.

“Milan?”
“It’sinItaly.”
“Iknowwhereitis.I’vebeentherebefore.”
“Oh.”Iconsideredtellinghimtobuyaplaneticketandchaseafterher,butIwasn’tthatspiteful.I

couldn’tsendhimonawildgoosechase,orinthiscaseawildswanchase,thatwouldcostthousandsof
dollarsandprobablydrivehimcrazyintheprocess.MaybeIshould’vetoldhimshe’dmovedtoLaosto
workonafishingboat,orgivenupallherworldlypossessionsandmovedtoIndiatojoinanashram.

Ohwell.Toolatenow.
“Doyouhaveheremailorsomething?Idon’tevenhaveherphonenumber.Ireallyneedtotalkto

her.”

CouldItellhimnowithoutsoundinglikeaspitefuljealousbitch,whichIwasn’t?Imean,howcouldI

bejealousofanonexistentperson?Forallintentsandpurposes,Chelseathesupermodelwasdead,and
whenshe’dbeenalive,shewasmeanyway,sowhatwastheretobejealousabout?

Yeah,Iwasjealous.Sortof.Notreally.
Maybealittle.
“Please,Jane.IhavetotalktoChelsea.It’sreallyimportant.I…Ineedtoapologizetoher.Iwasa

totaldicktheothernight.Imessedupeverything.Iwas…Iwasatotaljealousprick.Iactedlikeanass.
Likeafuckingtwoyearold.Idon’tknowwhy.Seeingherwiththatfuckingguy…”Heshookhishead.
“Fuck.Idon’tknow.Iwasadouche.”Hewasstaringovermyhead,nottalkingtome.It’slikehewas
sendinghisapologystraightouttofakeChelsea.

Hedidn’tknowit,buthewasgivingmetheapologyIwishhe’dgivenmeaweekago.Myheart

startedtomelt.Damnhim.Hewasmakingmelikehimalloveragain.ButbeautifulBrodieBoldenwould
neverwantplainJaneJohnson,thelittlenerdgirlstandingrightinfrontofhim.

Hisapologywasn’tforme.
ItwasforsuperChelsea.
Iwasn’ther.
Iwasdonewithher.
Brodiefinallylookedmeintheeyes,hisfacepained,“CanyoutellherI’msorry,Jane?Please?”
IhatedhimsobadIwantedtocry.
Hedidn’tdeservemytears.
Hedeservedmydoorslammedinhisface.
Thesoundofbootheelsechoedupthestairwellattheendofthebalcony.Brodieturnedtolook.His

eyeswidenedandasmileerasedhissadnessinaninstant.HecompletelyforgotIwasstandinghere.

Hetookasteptowardthemovingbootheelsastheywalkedalongthebalcony.Istoodinsidemy

apartment,soIcouldn’tseewhoitwas.ButBrodiecould.Hewasecstatic.ThebootspassedMrs.
Wiser’sapartmentandwerejustabouttoreachmine.Stillstaringatwhoeveritwas,Brodiesaid,
“Chelsea?”

Oh,shit.
Ileanedoutmyfrontdoor.
Mysisterwalkedtowardusandwavedatme,smiling.“Hey,Jane!”Asalways,shelookedgorgeous.

Moviestarblacksunglassesandblackblazeroverawhitemeshdressandkneehighblackboots.You
couldseeflashesofherwhitebraandpantiesthroughthemeshasshewalked.Shealsoworeablack
scarftwistedaroundherneck.ItwasthinlinenanditgaveheroutfitasubtleBDSMvibewithoutbeing
slutty.Shewassexhot.

Assheapproached,Brodiegawkedather,hisjawhangingagainsthischest.Shegavehimapolite

smileasshepassed.Shedidn’tknowhim,butIbetshecouldfigureoutwhohewas.

Brodiereachedoutandgentlytuggedthearmofherblackblazer,tryingtoslowhertoastop.“Hey,

C.C.,whereareyougoing?”hemuttered,somewhatconfused.Ofcoursehewasconfused.Hethoughtthe
realChelseawasmeChelsea,a.k.a.C.C.,andshewasignoringhim!

Yes,watchingmysexysisterignorehimgavemeplentyofsmugsatisfaction.Maybenowhewould

knowwhatitfeltliketobeignored.

ChelzloweredhermoviestarsunglassesandglaredatBrodieovertheframes.“Wouldyouletgoof

mycoat?”Hervoicewasfirmandwasn’ttakingnoforananswer.

Ihidasmile,lovingeverymomentofthis.
Brodiedroppedhisarm,chastened.“Sorry,”hemuttered.“C.C.,it’sme.Brodie.”Hewasbeggingher

torecognizehim,butitwasn’tgoingtohappen.

Chelzflashedmeaconfusedlook.
Isaid,“Brodie,thisismysisterChelsea.”
Brodie’sownconfusionwasobvious.“Sister?Ithoughtyouwerecousins.”
Isaid,“You’rethinkingofourcousinChelsea,theonewhomovedtoMilantobeamodel.Yes,she

doeslookalotlikemysisterChelsea.”Inoddedather.“ButIpromise,they’retwodifferentpeople.”

Chelzpulledhersunglassesoffandputherarmaroundme.“We’resisters.”
BrodielookedatChelzforalongtime.“Youreallylookalotlikeyourcousin.”
Chelzshrugged.“SoI’veheard.”
“Likeyoucouldbetwins…”Brodiemused.
Twins?
Shit,ifhemadeamoveonChelz,therealChelsea,mysister,Iwouldshoothimdeadwherehestood.

I’dhavetobuyagunfirst,butIwouldgogetoneposthasteandtrackhimdown,thenshoothimwherever

hestood.

“…butyou’renother,”Brodiefinished,distraught.Heheavedasadsigh.
Ireleasedmyownsilentsighofrelief.ThelastplaceIwantedtoendupwasinprisonforfirstdegree

murderingBrodie.

HelookedatChelz,“Ifeitherofyoutalktoyourcousin,canyoutellherI’msorry?”Hehunghishead

andwalkedbackintohisapartmentandclosedthedoorsoftly.

ItwasthesaddestsoundingdoorcloseI’deverheard.

Chapter28

“WasthatBrodie?”Chelzaskedinsidemyapartment.
“Yeah.”
“Wow,he’sreallyhot.Didyouseethoseabs?”
Iscowled,“Don’tremindme.Hedoesn’tevenknowIexist.”
“Hewasactinglikeheknewyou.Didn’tyousayyoumethimbeforeyouturnedintome?”
Ismirked,“Ididn’tturnintoyou.”
“YouknowwhatImean.”
ItbummedmeoutthatBrodiewould’veaskedmysisteroutifhe’dmetherfirst.Buthe’dmetmefirst.

Twice.Buthewasonlyinterestedinsupermodels.Suddenly,allmyusualinsecuritieswereback.My
sistergotguyslikeBrodieandWes.Igotguyslikeun-extremeMikethedoctor.

“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking,Jay.Sostop.You’rebeautiful.”
“You’reblind.MaybeIshould’velefttheringon.”
Chelsealookedatmeforalongtime.“Youyourselfsaiditmightbegivingyoucancer.”
Ifrowned,“WhatdoIknow?NothingaboutwhathappenedtomewhenIputthatringonwasnormal.

ForallIknow,wearingthatringmightmakemediseasefreeandlivetotheripeoldageofahundredand
twenty.Orlonger.ButI’llneverfindoutnowbecauseItookitoff.”

“Doyoustillhaveit?”
“It’saroundheresomewhere.”IknewexactlywhereitwasbutIwasn’ttellingher.Ididn’twanther

oranyoneknowingwhereitwas.Iwouldn’twantitdisappearing.NotthatChelseawouldtryandstealit.
Shedidn’tneedtobebeautiful.Shealreadywasandhadmorehotmenthansheknewwhattodowith.

“Maybeyoushouldputitbackon,”shesighed.
“Really?”
“Yeah.Idon’tknowwhatMomandDadwillsay,butwhynot?Ifitmakesyouhappy,maybeyou

should.WhoamItosayhowyoushouldliveyourlife?”

Myentirebodysuddenlytingledwithpossibilities.Icould.Icouldgobacktobeingbeautiful.Atleast

IassumedIcould.Woulditwork?Itseemedlikeithadtakenlongertochangemebacktonormalthanit
hadtomakemebeautiful.Wasitrunningoutofgasorpowerorwhatevermagicitranon?Woulditwork
atallifIputitbackon?Orwoulditonlyworkhalfwayandleavemelooking…

Deformed.
Icringed.
Geez,wasthisevenagoodidea?OrwasIjustplayingwithfire?
MaybeIneededtogetridofit.Dropitintheoceanorsomething.
No,Ididn’twanttodothat.
DidI?
Ineededtodistractmyselfwithsomethingmorefrivolousthanthis.“So,Chelz.Whodoyouthinkis

hotter?BrodieorWes?”

“Well,IonlysawpicturesandvideosofWesattheOscars.Butit’sprettyclose.Whichoneistaller?”
“Brodie.Barely.Maybeaninch.”
“Idon’tknow,Jay.They’rebothfinemen.Eitheronelookslikethetotalpackage.Ontheoutside,

anyway.Brodieseemslikehemightbeabittooimmature.Butit’stoosoontotell.”

“Iknow,right?”

SuddenlyIwasthrilledtobehavingthisdiscussionwithmysister.Forthefirsttimeinmylife,we

weretalkingaboutmenandcomparingnotes.Notherspeakingfromdeepexperiencewhilegivingme
advicebecauseIdidn’thaveanyexperiencetodrawfrom.Theopposite.WhenitcametoBrodieand
Wes,Iwastheonewithalltheexperience,nother.Frankly,itmademegiddy.

“Youknowwhat,Chelz?Let’sgoout.Justyouandme.Icouldreallyuseadrinkwithmysister.”
Shesmiled,“Soundslikeaplan,Stan.”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Whatamistake.
Nevergooutwithyoursupermodelsisterafterchangingbackintoanerdgirl.EspeciallynotinLA

wherethemenarehotandplentiful.

Everywherewewent,guyshitonher,notme.
CredittoChelsea:shesuggestedwecallitanightlongbeforeIdid.Shesawthedynamicfromthe

beginningwhileIwasbusyignoringit.

Shealsosawmegettingdrunk.
Inevergotdrunk.
Buttonightseemedliketherightnightforgettinghammered.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

MondaymorningIwokewithahorriblehangover.
ChelseatookanUbercartotheairportsoIdidn’thavetodriveher.ThankgoodnessIdidn’thaveto

workuntilfive.Ididn’tformallygetoutofbeduntilnoon.Ifithadbeenmychoice,Iwould’vesleptuntil
tomorrow.

Idraggedmyselfintothelivingroomandsatonmycouch,placedthestupidringonmycoffeetable,

andstaredatitforoveranhour.

ShouldIputiton?
Throwitaway?
Nowitwasjustatarnishedpieceofjunk,justlikeme.Ididn’tneedtosaveit.
Awalktotheoceanmightmakemefeelbetter.ThenIcouldchucktheringofftheendoftheSanta

MonicaPierandneverseeitagain.

Yeah,that’sexactlywhatIneededtodo.WhenIstoodup,Isatrightbackdown.
Hello,hangover.
I’dbeluckyifIfeltuptoworkinginfourhours.
Remindmenevertodrinkthatmanyshotseveragain.
HowmanyhadIhad?Six?Eight?Whateverthenumber,itwaswaypastmylimit.
Ilookedattheringagain.
Itwassounassumingnow.
IleanedforwardandpickeditupwiththeintentionofhidingitinmybedroomuntilIfiguredoutwhat

todowithit.Thesecondmyfingersclosedaroundit,mydoorbelldinged.

Ihopeditwasn’tBrodie.Ididn’twanttoseehimtodayoranyday.Groaning,Itiptoeduptopeer

throughthepeephole.

ItwasWes.
Whatwashedoinghere?
Iopenedthedoor.

Heworehisoldjeans,flip-flops,andaT-shirtthathadtheoldNintendologoonit.Healsohadonhis

aviatorshadesandplentyofstubble.ThiswascasualWes,accessibleWes,ameremortalcomparedto
hisgodlikered-carpetreadyself.Hepulledhisaviatorsdownwithasmile.“Hey,Jane.Goodtoseeyou.
Ididn’trealizeyoulivedwithChelsea.”

“Yeah,”Ismirked.
“Howhaveyoubeen?Youlookgreat,bytheway.”Washeseriousorjustbeingcharming?Icould

nevertellwithWes.Onethingwasforsure:unlikeBrodie,Wesprojectedtotalinterestinme.Whetherit
wassexualorplatonicwasimpossibletotell,butthatmadehimallthemorecharming.

“I’mgood.”
“MindifIcomein?”
Ialmostblurtedyeslikeadesperatethirteenyearold.“Uh,Chelseaisn’there.”
“And?”Heraisedhiseyebrows.“Aren’tyougoingtoinvitemeinanyway?”
Okay,thatwasnotwhatIwasexpecting.“Sure.Comein.”Iclosedthedoorbehindhim,stillclutching

theringinmyhand.Whydidthismomentfeelsofamiliar?Itwasn’t,butsomehowitwas.Liketheday
we’dfirstmet,chargedwithpossibility.

Wesdroppedonmycouchlikeheownedtheplace.Orlikeanoldfriendwho’dbeenhereathousand

timesbefore.

“CanIgetyousomethingtodrink?”Ioffered.
Hefrowned,“Youlookalittletired.Areyoufeelingokay?”
Ilaughedguiltily.“Isortofdranktoomuchlastnight.”
Hegrinned.“Beenthere,donethat.”Hejumpedupfromthecouchandtookmyfreehand.“Sitdown.

Youlooklikeyouneedit.I’llgetussomethingtodrink.”

Confused,IsatandwatchedWesopenmyrefrigeratorinthekitchenetteandleanoverit.“Youwant

thisraspberrysmoothiething,applejuice,orwater?”

“Waterisfine.”
Hesearchedmycabinetsforglasses.
“Nexttothestove.”
“Thanks.”Hepulledouttwoandopenedthefreezer.
“Idon’tneedice.”
“Iceforone,”hesmiledanddroppedtwocubesinhisglass.“Youdon’thaveafilterpitcheranywhere

doyou?”

“No,justtap.”
“Myfavorite.”
Icouldn’tbelievethiswashappening.“Whatareyoudoinghere,Wes?”Heshruggedatmewhile

fillingtheglassesunderthetap.Isaid,“Ifyou’rewaitingforChelsea,she’snothere.She’s…inMilan.”

“Milan?What’sshedoingthere?”
“Traveling.”Ididn’twanttospinupabiglieforWes.
Henodded.“Milanisgreat.Ihaven’tbeeninawhile.Theweatherisnicethistimeofyear.Nottoo

hotduringtheday,nottoocoldatnight.Youeverbeen?”

“No.”
“Thenwhydidn’tyougowithChelsea?”
“Oh,uh.Ihavetowork.”
Henoddedsympathetically.“That’sworkforyou.”Hewalkedtothecouchandhandedmemyglassof

waterbeforesittingdownnexttome.

Isippedmywaterbeforesettingitonthecoffeetable.Istillclutchedthebrassringinmyhand.I

swearitwasvibratingagainstmyskin.ItookadeepbreathandlookedatWes.“Youdon’thavetodo
this,Wes.”

“Dowhat?”
“Makenicewithmesoyoucan…Idon’tknow,getChelsea’semailorwhatever.”
“WhywouldIneedheremail?Ihaveherphonenumber.”
Ohshit!IfWesevercalledmynumberandIansweredaccidentally,hemightstartaskingquestions.If

forsomecrazyreasonhecalledortextedherrightnow,hewouldhearmyiPhoneringing!Thenhe’d
definitelystartaskingquestions.Ineededagoodcoverstoryquick.“Oh,uh,Chelsealeftherphonewith
me.Shecouldn’tuseitinMilan,so…youknow.”

“That’sfunny.MyphoneworksfineinMilan.”
Ishrugged,notwantingtosaymore.
“Well,sheknowshowtoreachme.Ifshewantsto,shewill.Ialreadyleftherplentyofmessages.”He

sighed.“Ifshe’dtoldmeshe’dgonetoMilan,Iwould’vetakenthehintandstoppedcalling.”Ashesaid
allthis,hisvoicefadedfromcasualtodisappointed.

Ifeltterrible.Wesreallyhadn’tdoneanythingtodeservealltheBrodiefalloutonOscarnight,nordid

hedeservethedisappointingendingtoourevening.ButhediddeserveanexplanationfromfakeChelsea,
a.k.a.me.Ijustwasn’tsureIcouldgiveittohiminawaythatmadeanysense.

IreachedouttotouchWes’wrist.Heworethatchunkygoldbraceletofhis.Myfingerstouchedmostly

it,butmypinkytouchedhisskin.Itwaswarmandmademetingle.

Therewasnodenyingit.
IwantedWes.
ButIcouldn’thavehim.
Ohwell.Iwasabiggirl.
ButWesdeservedsomekindofexplanation,nomatterhowfeeble.Isaid,“Wes,Chelseais…She’s

notstable.”IwasmakingallthisupasIwentalong.“Shetendstobeflighty.”

“Literally,”hesmirked.“UnlessshetookarowboatacrosstheAtlantic?”Hewinked.
“Yeah,”Ismiled.“Sheflew.Anyway,it’snotreallymyplacetosaythis,but,forwhatit’sworth,

she…”Iwantedtotellhimshelikedhim.Alot.ButIdidn’twanttostringWesalong.FakeChelseathe
supermodelwasgoneforgood.“Shethoughtveryhighlyofyou,Wes.Veryhighly.”

Hesmiled.
“Anyway,shetoldmewhathappenedandsaidshefeltbadyoublamedyourself.Idon’tknowwhyshe

didn’ttellyouherself,butIthoughtyoushouldknow.”

Hepattedmyhand.“Thanks,Jane.Iappreciatethat.”Hisbrowneyesflickered,theirmahoganyfire

slowlydying.Ipulledmyhandawayandhesighed,“WomenlikeChelseaare…special.”Thatwasan
understatement.“Butthey’reoftentemperamentalandrequirealotofwork.”

Iwantedtoadd,PlainJaneJohnsonisn’ttemperamentalanddoesn’trequireanywork.Iwasthe

queenoflowmaintenance.Ironically,thesupermodelversionofmyselfhadalreadystartedshowingsigns
ofbeinghighmaintenanceafteronlyafewdays.IwasthinkingofthedramaIcausedbetweenBrodieand
Wes.Butnoneofthatmatterednow.

Iraisedmyeyebrows,notknowingwhatelsetosay.
Wesswallowedthelastofhisicewater.StaredacrosstheroomatmyTV.Hewouldprobablymake

anexcusetoleaveinthenexttwominutes.

Desperateforhimtostay,Irackedmybrainsforsomethingtokeephimhere.
“Wes,canIaskyousomething?”
“Anything.”Hesethisemptyglassdownonthecoffeetable,momentsawayfromstandingandleaving

forever.

“Ummm…”Iwantedtoask,ifhe’dnevermetChelseathesupermodel,wouldhehaveconsidered

datingme?ButIwastooscaredtofindouttheanswer.Ijustcouldn’tdoit.

“Holdup,”Wessaid,scootingforwardontotheedgeofthecouch.“IsthatwhatIthinkitis?”

“What?”IfollowedhisgazetomyTV.
“Isthat…IsthataSuperNintendounderyourTV?”
“Yeah,why?”MyTVstoodonanoldplasticmilkcrate.Insidethecrate,wasmydustyoldSuper

Nintendoconsole.

“Whatdoyoumeanwhy?”Hesmiledbig,“BecauseIgrewupplayingSuperNES,that’swhy.Mario,

LegendofZelda,SuperMetroid.Allthosegames.Theywereabigpartofmychildhood.”

“Really?”
“Hellyeah.Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouhadanS-NES,Jane?”Hewasgrinning.
Igiggled,“Idon’tknow.Doyouwanttoplaynow?”
HiseyesshimmeredlikeChristmasdayatachocolatefactory.Iwantedtoswiminthosechocolate

eyesofhis.

“Let’sfireupthisbadboy!”HestoodandwalkedtotheTV,crouchingdowninfront.Hesearched

throughthepileofcartridgesbesidetheconsole.“WegottaplayZelda.Youhaveit,right?”

“It’sintheresomewhere.”Iwould’vegottenuptohelplook,butIwastoostunnedtostandup,soI

pickeduptheremotefromthecouchandturnedontheTV.

“Hereitis.”HehelduptheZeldacartridge.“YouhavenoideahowmuchIlovethisgame!”Hewas

sodamnhappy,Iwantedtocry.HepulledouttheSuperMarioKartcartridgethatwasstillinthe
machine.I’dleftitthereafterGeorgeandIhadlastplayed.Thenhepoweredupthemachinewiththe
Zeldacartridgeinsideandunwoundoneofthecontrollers.“Ihopeyoudon’tmind,butwehavetoplay
thisthroughtotheend.”

“That’lltakehours,Wes!Ihavetogotoworktonight!”Iwouldlovenothingmorethantoskipwork

andspendhoursandhoursplayingvideogameswithWes,butIreallyneededtokeepmyjob.

“Whendoyouhavetobeatwork?”
“Five.”
“We’vegotplentyoftime.Ifweskipallthebonusitems,Ibetwecanfinishbeforethen.”Hesatdown

nexttomeonthecouch.

Icouldn’tbelievethiswashappening.“Youdon’thaveto,Wes.Youprobablyhavesomethingmore

importanttodothanthis.AndIhavetoworkanyway,so—”

“Moreimportantthansavingtheprincess?Areyoukidding?WehavetosaveZelda!”Thestartup

screenloadedandthefamiliarmusicplayed.“Man,there’sarealmagictothesepixelatedold16bit
gamesthatIreallylove.”

“Yeah,”Isighed.Ireallylovesomethingtoo…Weswasthemostmagicalthingintheroom,butI

wasn’tgoingtosayitoutloud.

“We’llshareagame.Switchbackandforth.DoyouwanttogofirstorshouldI?”Zeldawasaone

playergame,sosharingwastheonlyoption.Heofferedmethecontroller.

“Yougofirst.”Iwantedtoseeifheknewwhathewasdoingorifallthiswassomecrazydream.I

couldn’tbelieveWesactuallyknewhowtoplayZelda.Oranyvideogame.Hedidn’tseemlikethetype,
butwhatdidIknow?

Heclutchedthecontrollerinbothhandsastheintroductionfinished.“Allright,heregoesnothing.”
Thesecondhestartedplayingandwasfocusedonthegame,Istuffedmybrassringbetweenthecouch

cushionsbehindme.Iknewitwouldbesafetherefornow.

AndIwaswrongaboutWes.
Hewasaproat16bitZelda.

Chapter29

Threehourslater,Igasped.“Shit!I’mgoingtobelateforwork!”
“Butwe’realmostfinished!”
WesandIhadbeenlaughingandgigglingandsittingshouldertoshoulderplayingZeldatheentiretime.

WhileoneofuswasonthecontrollernavigatingLinkthroughthedungeons,theotherwouldgetupas
neededtogetmorewaterorsnacksorgotothebathroom.AnemptybagofFritoscornchipslayonthe
coffeetableinfrontofus.NexttoitwerethetwoemptyplatesI’dusedforthecheesesandwichesI’d
madeforusanhourago.Itfeltsortoflikeadatebutnotadate.Icouldn’tdecidewhichbecauseIwasn’t
supermodelChelsea,Iwasjustplainoldme.Eitherway,WesandIwerehavingplentyoffun.

“Wes,Ireallyhavetoshowerandchangeforwork.”
“Okay,youshower.I’llkeepplaying.”
“Okay,okay!”Giggling,Iranintomybedroomandgrabbedclothesforworkbeforejumpinginthe

shower.Istillcouldn’tbelieveWeswasactuallyinmylivingroomplayingmySuperNES.Ialsodidn’t
believehewouldstillbetherewhenIfinishedinthebathroom.WhenIcameout,he’dbegonebecause
allofthishadtobeadream.

Butitwasn’t.
WhenIemergedfrommybathroominmyblouseandworkslacks,hewasbusyplaying,hiseyesglued

totheTV.Iwasn’twearingmyworkvestbecauseIwasembarrassedtowearitinfrontofhim.Therewas
nothingsexyorglamorousaboutabluecanvas95CentStorevest,nightmanagerornonightmanager.

“Youlooknice,”hesmiled,glancingawayfromthegameforafewsecondstoreallylookatme.
Ismiledback.“Thanks.”
Hewasjustbeingnice.Iknewthismomentwewerehavingwasaonetimething,muchlikethatfirst

daywe’dmetathisgrandmother’smansion.Afterhelefttonight,Iwouldhavetobecontentwiththe
memoryofthismoment.Iwasokaywiththat.Unlikemostrelationships,memorieslastedforever.

Thebeepsandboopsofthegameresumed.Wes’eyeswerebackontheTV.
Isighed,“Areyoustillplaying?”
“OfcourseIam.Doyouwanttopausethisfornow?Wecanfinishitlaterifyouleavethemachine

on.”

“Oh,wedon’thaveto.”
“Yousure?Wespentthreehoursonit.I’dhateforthattogotowaste.”
“Maybe?”WhatwasIdoing?WhywasIturningdownasecondNintendodatewithWeswhenhewas

offering?Thiswasthegreatestdayinthehistoryofmylife!Icouldn’tsayno!

Weswasnowfullyabsorbedinthegame.
Hewassoincrediblyhandsome.
AndIwastheopposite.
Isighedsoftly.
IwasoldenoughtoknowWesandIcouldneverbeanythingmorethanfriends.EvenifIhadhimover

formarathonNintendosessionsfromhereuntileternity,Iknewhewouldneverlookatmelikehehad
lookedatsupermodelme.Wewouldalwaysjustbefriends.

DidIwanttoputmyselfthroughthat?No.Iknewbetter.Iknewifdid,itwouldeventuallydriveme

crazy.TherealitywasthatI’dneverhaveWes.

Isaidsoftly,“Maybesomeothertime.”Maybeasinnever.

“Huh?Sorry.Igotdistractedbythegame.”
Iclearedmythroat,fightingbacktears.“Isaid,maybewecanplayagain…someothertime.”My

wordsturnedtomumblestowardtheend.

Hissmileslowlysagged.Hegotthemessage.“Yeah,sure.”Hesetthecontrollerdownabsently,

withoutbotheringtopausethegame,andstoodupslowly,hissuddendiscomfortfillingtheroom.Heheld
hishandouttoshake.

See?
Ahandshake.
Hedidn’ttryforthekiss.
Ireachedforwardtoshakehishand,buttomysurprise,Wesopenedhisarmsatthelastsecondand

cameinforahug.Hebentdownandsqueezedmehardandrubbedmybackvigorously.“Ihadablast,
Jane.We’lldothisagain.”Hesoundedreservedandalittlebitguarded.

“Yeah,”Isaid,allchokedup,drowninginimpendingdisappointment.
Didhemeanitorwashejustbeingpolite?
Ididn’twanttoknow.
No,Iknew.
IshowedhimoutasquickasIcould.
Afterclosingmyfrontdoor,Iwaitedwhilehisfootstepsfadedonthebalconyoutside,andIwaited

untilthefrontgatebangedshut.

ThenIstartedcrying.
Notsobbing.
Justquietcrying.
GoodthingIwasn’twearinganymakeup.Afterafewminutesonthecouchwithaboxoftissues,I

realizedIwasgoingtobelateforworkifIdidn’tgetamoveon.I’donlybeenbackonthejobforaweek
andIdidn’twanttogiveDougoranybodyatcorporateareasontodoubtme.

Ineededmyjob.
Iputonmyblueworkvestandpocketedmyphonebeforeheadingtowardmyfrontdoor.Icouldn’t

beartoturntheTVandZeldaoffjustyet,soIlefteverythingon.WhenIgrabbedthedoorknob,Istopped
cold,staringatthecornerofthecouchwhereI’dshovedthebrassringearlier.

Likeadesperatemadwoman(orrelapsingaddict),Istartedtearingcushionsoffthecouch.Thering

wasgone!Itwasn’twhereI’dstuffedit!Istartedtopanicandtoreofftherestofthecushions,butI
couldn’tfindit!Shit!Ishookwithfearandfeltthepowerfulurgetovomit.Ineededtofindthatring!I
woulddiewithoutthatring!MylifewouldbeoverifIdidn’tfindthatstupidfuckingring!!!

Adarkholeinthecornerseamofthecouchcaughtmyeye.Hadtheringfalleninthere?Igrabbedthe

edgeofitandtorethefabricbackwithoutasecondthought.Whentheholewasbigenough,Ijammedmy
handinsideandfeltaround.

No!
Theringwasn’tinsideeither!
Ithaddisappeared!
Iyankedmyhandoutandleanedunderthecouch,butallIsawwascarpet.Ifeltaroundjustincaseit

waslostinthepile,buttherewasnothingthere!

Startingtocry,Istoodupandjammedmyhandbackinsidethecouchlikeaderangedheroinjunkie,

goingallthewayuptomyelbow,mypalmslappingaroundatthefabricbottominsidethecouchasI
literallyfrothedatthemouth.MyspittlefleweverywhereasIgruntedlikealunatic.

“Wheredidyougo,youscummymotherfucker?!Ifyou’renothere,I’mgoingtokillsomebody!Kill

everybody!Aaaaaahhh!!!”

Igrowledlikearabiddog.

Myarmflailedinsidethecouch,nowuptomyshoulder.Iwaseithergoingtodieorgoinsaneifthe

ringwasn’tinmyGoddamnedcouch!!

Myfingersclosedaroundit.
Theworldgroundtoahalt.
Theringwasnowcooltothetouch,havingbeenhereforhours.Ipulleditoutandhelditclosetomy

face.ItglimmeredintheflickeringlightoftheTV.

Breathinghardfrommyexertion,IcriedsilentlyasIexaminedit.Myglasseshadnearlyfallenoff

fromallmyflailingaround,soIpushedthemupmysweatynoseandgazeduponperfection.

Thering.
Thering.
Ihelditovermylittlefinger,poisedtoslideiton.
Whatwasitaboutthewordpoisedthatremindedmesomuchofpoison?
Wasthisabadidea?
No!It’sthebestideaever!
Wouldthisringreallypoisonme?Orgivemecancer?Orjustpoisonmyheartandsoultothecore?
No!Never!It’llmakemehappy!Happyhappyhappy!!!
WouldIbecomeaddictedtobeingbeautifulifIputitbackon,neversatisfiedunlessIwasayouthful

supermodel?

No!It’sperfection!It’severythingIeverwanted!
IfIputitonandkeptitondayafterday,wouldmyincrediblebeautylastforever,orwoulditfadea

fewyearsfromnow,leavingmeadisappointedheartbrokenwreck,abandonedbywhoeverhadknown
meandwantedmewhenIwasbeautiful?

Orwouldtheringsimplymalfunctionhalfwaythroughmyswansformationandleavemedeformed

forever?

Deformed.
Deformed…
Ishuddered.
No!It’llwork!ItWILLwork!!!
Withshakyhands,Islowlyslidtheringonmyfingerbeforerunningoutthedoor,alreadylatefor

work.

Onewayortheother,I’dfindoutinamatterofdays.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Tobecontinuedin:

IfIWereBeautiful

Book2

ComingApril2017

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TellmewhoyouwantJanetoendupwith:

======WesorBrodie=====

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bookblogsyoufrequent.Besuretotellyourfriendsaboutit!

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TheycalledhimConnorHUGE.

COVERMODEL

Devon’s#1Bestsellingromanticcomedy

ASteamyStandalone

BYDEVONHARTFORD

ConnorHughesf**kedhiswaythrougheverygirlinmyhighschool.
Exceptme.
Wehatedeachother.
Thatarroganta**holeinsultedme,tormentedme,andruinedmewithouteverlayingafingeronme.
Aftergraduatingnearthetopofmyclass,IescapedtoUCLA,gotmydegree,andthrewmyselfintoa

careerasaseriousjournalist.ButIneverforgotthedamageConnordid.

AtleastI’llneverhavetoseehimagain.
UntilmyeditoratTrendingMagazinetasksmewithwritingatell-allarticleaboutConnor.Turnsout

myinsufferablebadboynemesisgrewintotheultra-gorgeousmodelwhoseperfectbodysteamsupthe
coversofhalftheromancenovelsonthebestsellerlists.

NowI’mstuckshadowinghimallweekendlongattheworld’slargestRomanceConvention.I’m

forcedtowatchindisgustas45,000womenthrowthemselvesathimandworshiphisshirtlessbody
whilehetauntsmeincessantly.

Wehateeachotherasmuchtodayaswedidsevenyearsago.ButIcan’tstopstealingglancesathis

perfectabsandperfecta**.

Mybetterjudgmenttellsmetodropeverythingandrun,butsomethingdeepinsidemeisdyingto

knowifhe’sasHUGEastherumors…

***CoverModelisasteamystandalonewithanHEA***

PROLOGUE

ELECTRA

GRADNIGHT,2008.
“Notonyourlife,”Ichuckle,staringintothemostbeautifulblueeyesI’veeverhated.
IstandtoetotoewithConnorHughes,thegorgeousyoungmanIhatemorethananyotherhumanbeing

ontheplanet.

“Youtotallywantme.”Heflasheshisinsolentgrin,theonethatmakesallthegirlsinschooldrool

overhimandwritehisnameintheirnotebooksandstalkhisFacebookpageinhopesthathe’llmention
them.“You’vealwayswantedme.”

MyangerrisesandIsnort,“I’veneverwantedyou.Connor.”Ispitouthisnamelikeit’sfilthy.“You

mustthinkI’mprettystupidifyouthinkI’mgoingtoletmyselfbecomeyetanothernotchonyour
bedpost.”

Inthedistance,aflickeringrainbowoflightsbeamfromthegradnightcarnivalsetupbehindourhigh

school.Allthatfrolicandfunseemsamillionmilesaway.

Tenhoursago,ConnorandIwalkedseparatelyacrossthestageintheNorthValleyHighSchool

gymnasiumandgotourdiplomasfromtheprincipal.WhenConnorgothis,hetookabowtoanuproarof
cheersandapplause.EverybodylovesConnorHughes.Exceptme.WhenItookmydiploma,nobody
madeasound,noteventhecrickets.

Nowit’sfourinthemorningandI’mallalonewithConnorunderthestarrynightsky.
Ifoldmyarmsdefensivelyacrossmychestandgrowlinhisarrogantandundeniablyhandsomeface.

“Theonlyreasonyouwantmeisbecauseyouneverhadme,Connor.WebothknowthatifIwasdumb
enoughtohavesexwithyou,you’dgetwhatyou’vewantedallalong,andyou’dmoveon.Justlikeyou
didwitheveryotherunsuspectinggirlyou’vefucked.TellmeI’mwrong.”

Heopenshismouthtospeak.Astrainedhalfsyllablewheezesoutbutcatchesinhisthroat.“I—”He

deflates,hismuscledshoulderssagging.

“That’swhatIthought,”Ismirk.“I’mjustanothernotchforyou.ButI’vegotnewsforyou,Connor

Screws.Youwillnevercatchme.Iwillalwaysgetaway.Aftereverythingthatyou’vedone,Iwillnever
beoneofyournotches.”

Iturnontheheelofmybrandnewbowtieflatsandstrideacrossthedampgrassfieldtowardthemain

parkinglot.Ineverlookback,promisingmyselfthatIwillneverthinkaboutConnorHugheseveragain.

AsfarasI’mconcerned,heisoutofmylifeforever.
Goodriddance.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

CHAPTER1

CONNOR

SEVENYEARSLATER…
“Fuck,you’retight,”IgruntasIpushmydickdeeperintoherpussy.“Andwetasfuck.”
We’resprawledontheking-sizedhotelbedwherewe’vebeenfuckinsincethesuncameup.
Hereyesareclampedshutandherfaceisscrewedupastightasherpussy.“Ohhhh,yes,Connor,

yes…”shemoans.“I’mgoingtocomeagain…”

Theyalwaysdo.
Thiswillbeherfourthorgasmthismorning,andtheseventhsincelastnightwhenwestumbledupto

myroom.

Islamintoherharderandharder.“Squeezemydick,babe.Fuckinsqueezeit…Yeah…”
Hermouthsplitsopenandshecriesout,“Yes,yes,ohmygod,yes!!”Hernailsclawmyshoulders.

Thischick’safuckinbeastbetweenthesheets.

I’mdownwiththat.“Comeonmydick,Juh—”IstopmyselfbecauseIalmostsaidJasmine.She

doesn’tnotice.Idon’tthinkthischick’snameisJasmine.JasminewasTuesday.AtleastIthinkitwas
Jasmine.OrwasJasmineonWednesdayandSiobhanwasTuesday?

Whoknows.
IshouldjuststicktocallingallofthemBabe.
TheonlythingIdorememberaboutthischickisthatshetoldmeearliershe’shalfChineseandhalf

Brazilian.Exoticashell.Longblackhair,tannedcaramelskin,perfectbod,killertits.Crazyhot.You
don’tcomeacrossachicklikethiseveryday,butI’mgoingtocomeinsideherinaminute.

Whenshepickedmeuplastnight,shewaseasilythehottestchickintheclub.Ispottedheroutofa

seaofplasticBeverlyHillsblondesimmediately.Igrewoutofmyblondebimbophasethreeyearsago.
They’reusuallyshittylays.Butthischickaroundmydickistopshelf.PrimeGrade.Justlikethatchoice
beeftheyservedownintherestaurantsofBrazil.OristhatArgentina?Ican’tremember.Forme,the
monthlongjunglephotoshootIdiddowninSouthAmericawasonebigblurofexoticpussy,killer
booze,andkillerfood.Thesteaksdownthereareunreal.

Inearlylaughoutloudatthethought.
Ican’tbelieveI’mthinkingaboutArgentinianbeefwhileI’mfuckinthishottie,butIam.Nomatter

howmuchIthinkI’mintoachick,mymindalwaysendsupwanderingduringsex.

“I’mcoming,Connor,”shesquealsasherpussygrabsmydicklikeafist.
Yeahsheis.
Timeformetoletloosemyselfandgetthisoverwith.I’vegotshittodotoday.Igroanwordlesslyas

Ipumpharderandshootaloadintothecondom.It’sgoodbutnotgreat.

It’snevergreat.
Butithelpsmeforgetabouther.
Foraminute,anyway.
ThesecondIrolloffBabe,orwhateverhernameis,andclosemyeyes,Iseeherface.
Ifuckinhatethat.
Aftersevenyears,Ican’tstopthinkingaboutthelasttimeIsawherface.
Oneoftheseyears,I’mgoingtoforgetaboutElectraWarmoth.
Ornot.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

Ididn’tspendfouryearsatUCLAgettingadegreeinjournalismforthis.Writinganexposéonamale

modelwhoposesshirtlessforromancenovelbookcovers?

Please.
Whataboutthisassignmentsaysseriousjournalism?
Noneofit.
SleekmodernistdecorontheseventhfloorsurroundsmeasIwalkalongtheluxepatternedcarpeting

towardmydestination.Earlymorninglightshinesthroughwindowsattheendofthelonghallway,
stabbingmyeyes.Ineedcoffee.It’swaytooearlyforthisnonsense.

I’mbeyondirritatedaboutbeinghere.
Why?
Latelastnight,VincePitts,myannoyingassofaManagingEditoroveratTrendingMagazine,

insistedIcoverthissillystoryifIwantedtokeepgettingworkfromhim.I’mafreelancer,andonlya
juniorcontributoratthat,whichmeansIbarelyscrapebyonwhatIearn.ConsideringIstilloweaking’s
ransomonmystudentloansfromgettingmyjournalismdegreeatUCLA,Iagreed.SohereIamatRom
ComCon2015,shortforRomanticComedyConvention,whichtakesplaceeverysummeratthe
sprawlingBeverlyHillsResortandConventionCenter.

Canyousaywasteoftime?
ItoldVinceIdidn’tcarethattherewillbeoverahundredhothard-bodiedmalecovermodels

circulatingthroughouttheconventionforthenextthreedays,signingautographsandshowingofftheir
flawlessphysiques.Iremindedhimthatafewweeksago,HilaryClintonannouncedhercandidacyfor
President.WhetherIagreewithherpoliticsornot,Ishouldbefollowingheronthecampaigntrail,
coveringherstoryasshesetshersightsonmakingfeministhistory.It’sabouttimethiscountryhada
womanforpresident.

Butnooooo,VinceinsistedIspendmyFourthofJulyweekendherecoveringthistrivialfluffpiece.

TheonlyfireworksI’mgoingtoseearetheirritatedonesshootingoutofmyears.

WalkingbesidemeinthehotelhallwayisaguynamedRomeoFabiano.He’sslightlyshorterthanI

am,hasoliveskin,acoifedblackfaux-hawk,andaperpetualgrin.Aswewalk,aslickblackvinyltrench
coatbillowsoutbehindhimandamonoclebouncesfromablackstringtiedtooneofhisvest’smany
buckles.Emochic.HeandImetforthefirsttimethismorning.MargaretLang,mymediacontactforthe
convention,introducedmetoRomeowhenIarrivedattheresort.Sheinstructedhimtotakemeuptothe
interview.

“Areyouexcitedtomeethim?”Romeotitters.“IknowIam.”
“Excited?”Isigh.“WhyshouldIbeexcited?”
“BecausenoonehaseverseenHISface.”
“MaybeHISfaceisn’tworthseeing,”Imock,picturingsomerandommeatheadgymratwithadopey

expressionandacrookednosewhoseonlyassetishisbody.

“Surelyyoujest,”Romeosays.“We’retalkingabouttheConnor.Thehottestmalemodelinthe

business.Themanwiththeperfectbody.Thebodybywhichallothersaremeasuredandfoundlacking.”

Thesourexpressiononmyfacesays:Idon’tcare.Icouldbereportingontheplightofdisplaced

refugeesinthirdworldcountries.Instead,I’mhereatRomComConcoveringthis.Opendisdainshows
onmyface.Pokerisnotmygame.ButIamaprofessional,soItrytothinkhappythoughtstosmoothout
mywrinkledbrow.Itdoesn’twork.

Romeodriveshispointhome.“AConnorCover,asthey’reknownintheindustry,practically

guaranteesthatabookwillsellmillionsofcopiesandlandatoptenslotonTheNewYorkTimesbest
sellerslist.Hisabsputwashboardsoutofbusiness.Hischestmakesgranitestatuesweepwithenvy.His
shouldersmadeAtlasshrugindefeat.Andthosetattooedarms?Mmm-mmm,girl.Withabodylikehis,I
canonlyimaginewhathisheadslooklike.”

“Youmean,‘head’,”Icorrect.
“No,Imeanheads.Asin,plural.Asin,bothofthem…”Hiseyesflickerimpishly.
Irefrainfromrollingmine,buttheurgeisintense.“Ihatetobreakittoyou,butthelogicalconclusion

whyhe’snevershownhisfaceisbecauseit’snotworthshowing.”

Romeonods,“There’sbeenendlessspeculationonthefanblogsaboutwhetherhe’shandsomeor

heinous.”

“Ivoteheinous.He’sprobablyatroll.Withtwotrollheadsgrowingfromhisshoulders.”
“O,yeoflittlefaith,”Romeosnickerswhilepullingoutasmartphone.Hetapsthescreenandshows

meanimage.It’sashirtlessandheadlessmaletorsoonthecoverofsomerandombookcalled
StepbrotherObsessed.Ihavenoideawhatthatis.Soundspornographic.Butthere’snodenyingthe
perfectionofthebodyI’mlookingat.It’shard,cut,masculine,inked,anditmakessomethingsquirm
betweenmylegs,somethingIthoughtwaseitherhibernatingorflatoutextinct.

“You’reblush-iiiing,”Romeosingsongs.
“NoI’mnot,”Ibark.Iclearmythroatandtrytosoundprofessional.Yes,Icanappreciateagorgeous

bodyasmuchasthenextwomanorobviouslygaymanlikeRomeo.ButI’vealwayspreferredbrainsover
beefcake.“WhoisthisConnorguyagain?Doeshehavealastname?”

“Nobodyknowswhatitis.He’sveryprotectiveofhisanonymity.SomepeoplebelieveConnorisn’t

hisrealfirstnameatall.”

That’snohelp.Isighheavily,“Look,myeditorliterallygavemethisassignmentlastnightandIdidn’t

havetimetoresearchConnorWhoever.”Thetruthis,Ididn’twanttodoanyresearchbecausethisissuch
ameaninglessnon-story.It’snotlikeinterviewingaheadlessmalemodelwithnolastnameatRomCom
Con2015isgoingtowinmeaPulitzer.“SounfortunatelyIdon’tknowthefirstthingaboutthisguy.Can
youfillmein?”

“Don’tyouread?”Romeogasps.“Connoristhethingintheromancebooksbusiness.”
“IreadtheWallStreetJournalandMs.Magazine.Notfrivolousromancenovelsfilledwithgratuitous

sex.Iknowabout50ShadesofGrey.”

“Yourloss,”Romeoshrugs.“Soundstomelikeyoucouldusesomefrivolityandgratuityinyourlife.”
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?!”Ibark.
“HereweARE-rreeee!”Romeosings,ignoringme.
Westandinfrontofroom714.
“Areyoureadytomeethim?”Romeoasksanxiously,hiseyesshininggleefully.“IknowIam.”
“Iguess.”Ifoldmyarmsacrossmychestandshiftmyweightimpatientlyontotheheelofonepump.
“Themanofmydreamsisontheothersideofthatdoor.”Romeobeamswhileheknocks.“Doyou

thinkhe’llbewearingamask?Likeasexybutmysteriousprofessionalwrestler?”

Ididn’trealizeprofessionalwrestlersweresexy.Asbefore,Itrytokeepmyconfrontational

commentstomyself.Ireachintomyconservativepurseandflickthepowerbuttononmymp3voice
recordertomakesurethebatteryisstillgood.Itis.Distracted,Iask,“Whywouldhebewearinga
mask?”

“Maybehe’shorriblydisfiguredlikeThePhantomoftheOpera.Yes,that’sit!Onceadashingyoung

man,helosthislooksinatragicoperafire.”

“Operafire?”Iaskdoubtfully.
“Yes,bearwithme,”Romeosaysseriously.“Nowhe’swounded,hisheartdamagedbeyondrepair.

Heyearnsinsecretfortheloveofastrongyoungwomantosavehimfromhissolitarymisery!”Romeo’s
eyeslightvictoriously.

“You’rehopeless,Romeo,”Ichuckle.
“Iknow,right?”hesmilesandwinksatme.“NowTHEConnorisfinallygoingtomakehisfirstever

publicappearancethisafternoon,maskandall,exclusivelyforRomComCon2015!!!”

Iarchaneyebrow.
“It’sanhistoricevent,”hesaysseriously.
“Anhistoricevent?”Imock.Awomanpresidentwouldbeanhistoricevent.
“That’swhatIsaid.DidImisspeak?”
Misspeak?Romeoisdefinitelyinaclassbyhimself.Ifrownathimandnodtowardthedoor.“Never

mind.Let’sgetthisoverwith.Let’smeetTHEConnor.”

Romeoknocksonthedoorandwewait.
Andwait.
Waitasecond…
Noway.
Ajumbleofloosethoughtssuddenlystraighteninmymind.It’sjustacoincidence,right?Thousandsof

menarenamedConnor.ItseemshighlyunlikelythatthisConnoris…him.

ConnorHughes.
Ihaven’tseenorheardfromConnorinsevenyears.Ihaven’teventhoughtabouthim…
Darkmemorieslassomygutsandcinchtight.Iwinceinternally,forcingdownnausea,notlettingit

show.Ineverletitshow.

Keepingastraightfacedoesn’tstopthedistressedthoughtsfrompinballingaroundinmyhead.
Itcan’tbehim…

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

CONNOR

“Ican’tbelievehowgoodyouareinbed,Connor,”Babe,orwhateverhernameis,saysbreathlessly.

“I’veneverhadsomanyorgasmsinonemorning.”Herlushlipsspreadintoagrin.

Minedon’t.
Istandnakedatthefootofthebedhavingjustdumpedmycondominthebathroomtrash.
Babeisavisionofcarameldelightontherumpledwhiteconfectionofthehotelsheets.
Icouldn’tcareless.
Sherunsherhandsacrossherbreasts,massagingthembrieflybeforeslidinghermanicuredfingers

downhertautstomachandbetweenherslickthighs,strokingherselfinvitingly.Shelockseyeswithme,
hershalf-hoodedwithnakeddesireformore.“Mmmmm,Connor.Doyouhaveanyideahowyummyyou
are?”

Yes.Someotherchickcalledmeyummylastweek.Yummyturnedintoachickclichéfouryearsago.I

hearitallthetime.

“Yourcockistwitching.Doesthatmeanyouwanttogoagain?”shepurrs.
I’malwaysupforfuckin.Workingoutsevendaysaweekmakesmehornyasfuckallthetime.AndI

havetoadmit,Babeisfuckinhot.Buthasn’tshehadenoughofme?I’vehadenoughofher.Ashotasshe
is,shejustdidn’tdoitforme.Theyneverdo.Isigh,“Idon’tmeantobeadick,butIhaveaninterview
hereintheroominafewminutes.Ineedtocleanupbeforetheygethere.”

“Interview?Forwhat?”
“It’snothing.Some,uhhh,fitnessthing,”Ilie.“Someguy’sYouTubeworkoutchannel.”
“Thatsoundsexciting.”
IalwaystellgirlsI’mafitnessmodel,butInevergointomoredetailthanthat.Ihatetalkingabout

myself.“It’sprettyboring.Kindoftechnical.Bloodsugarlevels,triglycerides,recoveryintervals.Boring
shitlikethat.”Usuallythetechnicaltalkturnsthemoff.

“Idon’tmind,”Babepurrs.“I’msureI’lllearnsomething.”
Maybethischickhaspotential…
Shedoesthatstripperthingwhereshesticksoutthetipofhertongueandrunsitacrosshertopteeth.

Whenthatdoesn’twork,shetweaksoneofhernippleswithherfingers,liftshertittohermouth,andlicks
thenip.

…Thenagain,maybenot.
Why’dshehavetogoandruinit?

“Trustme,”Ichuckle,“You’llbesnoringinsideoftwominutes.Andtheguyisanobody.Ithinkhis

biggestvideohaslike700views.I’mdoingitasafavorforafriend.”I’mmakingallofthisupasIgo
along.Babewillneverknow.

“It’snobigdeal,Connor.Ireallydon’tmind.”
Thisalwayshappens.Agirllikeherhasguysthrowingthemselvesather24/7.Isawitattheclublast

night.Fivehundreddifferentguystalkedtoher,butshewentbacktothehotelwithme.Whatshould’ve
beenaone-nighterissuddenlyturningintoapaininmyass.Idon’tknowhowtobreakittoherthatI’m
notinterested.Afterfuckinthem,Ineveram.

So,howtogetridofher?
Usually,Ilikethedirectapproach.
“Youneedtogo,”Igrunt.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

Romeoleanshisearagainstthedoor,“Idon’thearanyoneinside.Doyouhaveadrinkingglass?”
“Why?”
“SoIcanhearbetter.Don’tyouwatchspymovies?”hehisses.
“Notreally.”
“Whichcelebritydoyouthinkhelookslike?”Romeomusesgleefully,hisearstillgluedtothedoor.
“Ihavenoidea.”NordoIcare.Mykindofmanhasacareerpath.Softpornmodelingisnotacareer

path.Nothinggetsmegoinglikeasuitandtie.NotthatI’vehadanythinggoingonintheboyfriendorthe
bedroomdepartmentsinceforever.I’mfocusedonbeingajournalist,notmeaninglessflings.

“Whateverhelookslike,”Romeoswoons,“Ibethe’sgorgeous.I’mpicturingchiseledcheekbones,a

broodingbrow,smolderingeyes,andaruggedstubbledjaw.”

Ismirk,“Thatsoundslikeacavemanoraneanderthal.Doeshewearaleopardskinforaloincloth

andcarryaclubtoo?”

“Ihopeso,”Romeogrins,hiseyesdreamy.“Thenhecanpoundmewithhisclub,takemebacktohis

cave,andpoundmewithhishumanclubfrombehi—”

“Stop!”Ibark.
“Nevermindme,”hegiggles.“Aseriouswomanlikeyouisonlyinterestedinseriousinformation,

right?”

“WhatmakesyouthinkI’mserious?”Iaskdefensively.
Hiseyessweepupanddownmyoutfit.Oneofhiseyebrowsarchesdramaticallyandhisfacesays,

Haveyoulookedinamirrorlately?Buthismouthsays,“Please,girlfriend.Youroutfitwasonthecover
ofthelatestissueofBusinessMatron’sMonthly.”

IhidemyscowlasIlookdownmynoseathimthroughmystylisheyeglasses.“That’snotevenareal

magazine.”Mylongauburnhairmaybepinnedupinaconservativebun,butIlookgoodinmypumps,
pencilskirt,andblouse.Ialwaysdressmybestsopeopletakemeseriously.

“We’llworkontomorrow’slooklater,”hesmiles.“Butwecandosomethingaboutthatuptighthairof

yours.”Hereachesformybunlikehe’sgoingtofiddlewithit,orworse,letitdowncompletely.“Your
hairbunissotightit’sgivingyouafacelift.”

“Handsoff!”Igrowl,pullingbackdefensively.Hethinkshecangivemefashionadvice?Helooks

likeacartooncharacter.Iresisttheurgetokickhisshinswithmypointedpumps.

Hedropshisarmtohisside,“Loosenup,girl.I’mjusttryingtohelp.”
“Whatdoyouknowaboutwomen’sfashion?Lookatyouroutfit!Ididn’trealizesci-fiemowasstilla

thing,”Ispit.“Andwhat’swiththatstupidmonocle?”

Withpracticedflair,heflipsthemonocleupwithaflickofhiswristandsquinchesitinhischeek.He

staresatmethroughit,themonocledeyecomicallymagnified.“Perhapsyouneedapersonalitymakeover,
darling,”hemuttersbeforelettingthemonocletumblefree.

I’mabouttogivehimatonguelashingwhenIstopmyself.Iadmitit.I’mverysensitiveaboutmy

looks,mypersonality,everything.Let’sfaceit.I’mjustplainsensitive.Iblamefouryearsofhighschool
tormentfromConnorHughes.Thatassholeleftmescarred.

That’swhenthehotelroomdoorsuddenlywhipsopenandmychestlocksdowntight,stoppingmy

breath.

It’shim.
ConnorHughes.
No.Fucking.Way.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

COVERMODEL

byDevonHartford

AVAILABLENOW!!

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

DevonHartfordspentmostofhislifeinSouthernCalifornia,frequentingmanyofthelocationsinCoverModel.Devonalsopaints.His

backgroundintheartswastheinspirationforhis#1bestsellingromanticcomedyseriesTheStoryofSamanthaSmith.

OTHERBOOKSBYDEVONHARTFORD:

COLLEGEROMANTICCOMEDY:
Fearless(TheStoryofSamanthaSmith#1)
Reckless(TheStoryofSamanthaSmith#2)
Painless(TheStoryofSamanthaSmith#3)

NEWADULTROMANTICCOMEDY
CoverModel
StealingChastity

HIGHSCHOOLROMANTICCOMEDY
StepbrotherObsessed

ADULTROMANTICCOMEDY
TakingBackBeautiful
BrokenLion

SLIGHTLYPARANORMALROMANCE
IfIWereBeautiful,Book1
IfIWereBeautiful,Book2(April2017orsooner)
IfIWereBeautiful,Book3(July2017orsooner)

BILLIONAIREROMANCE:
ONEYEARLOVE-PartOne
ONEYEARLOVE-PartTwo
ONEYEARLOVE-PartThree
ONEYEARLOVE-PartFour
ONEYEARLOVE-CollectedEdition(Parts1-4)

ROCKERROMANCE:
VictoryRUN1(TheStoryofVictoryPayne)
VictoryRUN2(TheStoryofVictoryPayne)
VictoryRUN3(TheStoryofVictoryPayne)
VictoryRUN1-2-3(TheStoryofVictoryPayne-CollectingParts1-2-3)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

AHUGEthanksto:

JackieBarnettforherusualgenius

HerHighnessSamanthaSheeley,QueenofAllTyposandOusterofOopsies!

Bethanie“TheTypoHammer”Melanderforkillingthosetypos

AnevenHUGERthankstoallmypassionateandfantasticbetareaders:

EmalethMorrigan(mermaid),TheREALJulieEngland,RosanneTriegaardt,SarahFrost,AlwaysHandyMandyJamerson,WendyBoyer,

NickiHewitt-Hart,NatashaSlater,MeganCChristmas,MariaCombee,JulianatheBlueBombah,andTheEverSpecialMelBushellfor
invaluablefeedbackandencouragement!Youguysrockthetyposauce!

JessieDuchannesforherawesomereviewsandSailorMoon.

KelseyBurnsforalwaysbackingmyplay.

HayleyPicknellforslickBritPimpin’andawesomereviewseverywhere!

MicheleMcKenzieforequallyall-starpimpin’andtypo-snyping.

AmyCossioforalwaysrockingtheAwesomeSaucio.

Andlastbutnotleast,forlastminutetypo-snypingofthehighestorderandinthefaceofgreatpersonaldanger,IawardaTypoHeartto

Colone lMe lanie Starr,theoneandonlyCommaBombe r,whosavedthismissionfromcertaindisasteratthe11thhour,butnotwithout
significantpersonalsacrificeonherpart.Colonel,Isaluteyou!

Thankstoeverybodyelsewhohashelpedmakethisbookareality!

Document Outline

Contents
Title
Copyright kd
Devon's Newsletter
Dedication
If I Were Beautiful - Book 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Thanks from Devon Hartford
COVER MODEL - Available NOW!!
About the Author
Acknowledgements

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