“You’re attracted to her, that’s all,” Jade said.
“I’ve been attracted to people before.” But no one had ever rendered her incoherent like this woman.
“Maybe she’s your lobster, you know, like Friends,” Emma said.
Sam raised her eyebrows. “She is not lobster material. She had a three-way, for God’s sake.”
“Oh, right.”
Jade asked, “Do you want me there tomorrow night?”
“No, it’s better if I tackle this alone.”
“Picture her in her underwear,” Emma suggested.
“What?” both Sam and Jade asked with questioning looks.
“You know, like The Brady Bunch, when Jan needed to give a speech, and she was all nervous. They told her to picture everyone in the audience in their underwear. To make her more comfortable.”
“What the fuck channel do you watch?” Jade asked.
“You don’t watch The Brady Bunch?” Emma asked.
“I don’t watch The Brady Bunch.”
A confounded Sam stuttered, “So you…you want me to picture this…this perfect ten of a woman in her underwear. Do you hear how asinine that sounds?”
“Oh.” Emma pursed her lips. “I forgot she was hot. That’s probably not gonna work.”
“You think?”
Sam’s insides twisted. She had thirty hours to get her shit together before one of the most attractive women she’d ever met came knocking on her door. She hoped she could pull it off.
“Is The Brady Bunch even in color?” Jade asked.
Chapter Seven
Sam paced around the living room waiting for Alex. At the Lancôme shoot today, she’d been an unfocused mess, obsessing over this meeting. Why did this woman make her so nervous? The whole thing was absurd. Okay, she was attracted to Alex. No big deal. She didn’t have to sleep with her if she didn’t want to. Ugh. Maybe a drink would calm her frayed nerves.
Mistake number one. Sam was no drinker, aptly nicknamed Two-Beer Betty by her friends. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Going to the cabinet, she grabbed a bottle of tequila.
Maybe a quick shot. Isn’t that what you did with tequila? No shot glass was handy, so Sam took a quick swig from the bottle. Was that enough to help her relax? She shrugged. Maybe one more, and down the hatch went another mouthful. A few ounces of the finest Jose Cuervo sloshing around with her lunch from this afternoon. As she wiped the bottle off, her lips curled in disgust. The aftertaste was wretched.
After liquoring up, Sam wandered around the living room doing mindless tasks, rearranging the copious pillows on the sofa, moving the vase of freshly cut flowers from one table to the next, anything to sap the nervous energy. She decided to treat this like an acting role. Her character would be a cool, together woman. Perhaps a powerful business executive, accustomed to getting what she wants. Yes! Perfect. Alex could be an industry rival, ripe for seduction. Sam could play this role. On tequila, she could certainly play this role. Right after she took a nap, because Two-Beer Betty was suddenly sleepy. She flopped onto the couch and shut her eyes.
The buzz from the gate startled Sam awake, and she stumbled over to push the button. She couldn’t feel her face. Did tequila cause face numbing? The doorbell rang, and, ACTION!
Sam opened the door and mentally slapped herself on the ass for encouragement. “Hi, Alex, thanks for coming. I hope you didn’t hit a lot of traffic.”
Alex smiled and took Sam’s outstretched hand. “Oh, you know, you’re not in LA if you’re not in traffic.”
Sam was reluctant to release Alex’s warm, sexy hand. Her alcohol-addled brain wanted to hold it for the rest of the night. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?
Alex gave a slight tug to get her hand back.
Evidently, she was going to play hard to get.
Stepping back, Sam assessed the situation—or at least what Alex was wearing. Her body looked fine in tight pants and a formfitting shirt. Flip-flops showed off bright blue-painted toenails.
“Nice toes.”
Alex rewarded her with the first of many award-winning smiles and wiggled her toes. “You like the color?”
“Adorable.” Wait, was that in the script? “You wanna beer?”
“Only if you’re having one.”
Mistake number two. Never mix liquor and beer.
“Sure, I’ll have one.” Sam wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “How about a lager?”
“Great, thanks. I’ll just set up on the dining room table.”
When Sam opened the second beer bottle, the cap shot off and skittered across the floor. She bent down to search for it but came up empty. She’d be stepping on that in bare feet later. She stood and swayed, grabbing the counter to steady herself. No worries. Her body was just loose and relaxed. The room was not spinning. Keep the camera rolling.
Taking a couple of deep breaths, Sam moseyed into the dining room and handed Alex one of the beers. “Here you go.”
“Thanks. I have your written proposal.” Alex took out a folder. “And I have your design loaded in the computer.”
Her fingers flew over the keyboard, making Sam dizzy. “Whoa, you type fast.”
Alex turned and smiled, and Sam felt…butterflies? At twenty-eight? This should not be happening. And now her face was hot. Evidently, blushing was her part-time job around this woman.
“Well, I’m a landscaper by day and a writer by night. So I type a lot.”
Of course, Sam knew about the writing, but played dumb anyway. “You write? That’s cool. What do you write?”
“Believe it or not, science fiction.”
Sam playfully slapped her shoulder. “Get out! Is that why you watch the show?”
“Yep. That and the lead actress is kinda cool.”
That was a flirt. Sam was sure that was a flirt. The butterflies returned with a vengeance. She took a swig from her bottle. Beer killed butterflies, right? This was the exact moment when loose slipped into tipsy. “Slow…show me what you have.”
Alex took Sam through each section of the backyard, giving the breakdown on costs, showing the least expensive way of doing things and the most expensive.
“Listen. It’s cute you keep showing me these less expensive options, but trust me, I can afford it.” She leaned in close and whispered, “I’m on television.”
Alex whispered back, “I know.”
Sam giggled and made mistake number three: finished off the first beer and went for another. This one for courage.
With some bottled moxie in hand, she returned from the kitchen and sat. “I want to get it all done. Where do I sign?”
“Why don’t you mull it over for a few days?”
Despite not being of sound mind, Sam waved her off. “Where do I sign?”
“Okay, but please, if you have a change of heart in the morning, call me.”
Sam nodded.
Alex slid the proposal in front of her. “I’ve got duplicate copies, one for us, one for you. You just need to sign both. Then you keep one and I keep one.”
Sam tried to focus on the paperwork in front of her, seeing triplicate even though Alex insisted there were only two. Her head pounded, and her ears were on fire. She took the pen Alex offered and stroked her arm. “Thank you.”
The signature line on the contract kept moving up and down. Was this some sort of animated proposal? Sam slanted her signature up to split the difference and put the pen down. “When can you do me?” Her brow furrowed. Something wasn’t quite right with that statement. Oh Christ, fix it! “When can you do the work?” Reaching out, she grabbed Alex’s bicep. “Oh my. This is nice.” That was her inside voice, right? She giggled again.
“Ah, thanks.”
Sam held on as Alex closed the laptop. Muscles inadvertently flexed, and the warmth in Sam’s ears spread to her chest and just kept plummeting, sinking and settling in at the top of her thighs. She groaned and put her head on Alex’s shoulder, wanting to feel a lot more
than bicep and triceps.
“Is next Monday a good time to start?” Alex asked.
Sam nodded, still groping, still flushing, still wanting. All the flushing and groping and wanting induced a massive headache and a bilious stomach. She was afraid to stand, because she might fall over.
CUT! Somebody yell CUT, please! This take was going down the shitter fast.
“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel so good. God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sam flopped her head onto the table to try and stop the spinning.
“Why?”
“I didn’t eat enough today, and it was a stressful day. I was up at four a.m., and then you were coming over and I needed to relax, so I did a shot of tequila. I think two shots of tequila, and here’s the thing. I don’t drink. I have a beer once in a blue moon. And now I don’t feel so good, and I’m sorry for messing this all up.”
“Aw, Sam. You didn’t mess anything up. I just hope you don’t regret signing this contract tomorrow morning,” Alex said lightly.
“I won’t. I promise.” Sam squeezed Alex’s hand. Her cheek remained on the table, the coolness feeling good against her overheated face.
“Please call or text if you have any reservations.”
Sam managed to lift her head without tossing her cookies but was reluctant to let go of Alex’s hand. It was so soft and comforting that she wanted to press a kiss into the palm. She wanted to press a kiss on those full lips. Reaching out, she laid a finger on Alex’s mouth.
“You got pretty slips,” she slurred.
“Thanks. You do too.”
“Oh, you’re nice.” Sam traced Alex’s bottom lip with her index finger, fascinated by the plumpness.
“Do you want to lie down?”
“Oh. You wanna cuddle? Okay.”
“No, no, I meant just you. Maybe you should lie down, since you don’t feel good?”
“I think that is a very good idea. However—” Sam belched. “’Scuse me. However, I fear when I get up, I will immediately fall down, thereby capping off another humiliating moment with Alex. It’s my new reality TV show: My Humiliating Alex Moments.”
Alex laughed. “I’d watch that show.”
“You…are being kind. I’m a hot mess.”
“It’s fine. Happens to everybody. Let’s get you up and over to the sofa.”
Alex helped her stand. Putting an arm around her shoulders, she steered Sam toward the living room. Sam’s legs thought it an opportune time to go to sleep, or maybe they died, because she started to slowly slip to the floor.
“Whoa.” Alex caught her before she hit the ground and swooped her up, like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold.
“Did we get married?”
Alex set her down gently next to the couch and tossed a few pillows on the ground. When she had cleared enough space, she shifted Sam onto the cushions.
Sam stretched out and groaned. How could she have possibly screwed this up again? Jade was gonna bitch-slap her. Her eyes drooped, and just like that, Two-Beer Betty was down for the count.
* * *
When Alex returned from the kitchen with water, Sam’s eyes were closed. She set the bottle on the coffee table. A blanket was draped over the back of the couch, so she tucked it around Sam.
Deep in thought, Alex gathered her things. There was something about this one. She was nutty and sweet. Not the prototypical Hollywood diva you read about in the gossip magazines. As she walked to the door, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and read the text from Sam.
Thank you.
Across the room, Sam’s phone dropped from her hand and fell to the floor.
Alex walked over and placed it on the table. Sam’s eyes were still shut, her breaths shallow and even. Alex sat down on the coffee table and studied her for a minute. She had such long, dark lashes and dark brows. And all they did was accentuate the most beautiful blue eyes Alex had ever seen, eyes that made her weak.
She adjusted the blanket under Sam’s chin and moved a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind an adorable ear. What would it be like to wake up next to her every morning? Rolling over to find sleepy blue eyes and tousled blond hair, sharing a morning cuddle and cup of coffee in bed.
Alex’s heart stuttered, shaken by the sudden image of being with the same woman day after day. She bolted to the door, locking and pulling it shut behind her. She needed to purge that thought fast, because she did not want to be in a relationship. One-night stands? Absolutely. That’s what she did. She had sex with beautiful women. Wonderful, no-strings-attached sex. If Sam wanted to explore that, well, she was certainly not going to turn her away. But cuddling and morning coffee in bed? No way.
Alex headed to the bar to find a diversion. She arrived at Monette’s around nine. The West Hollywood club was a trendy hot spot for the LGBTQ community, and the owner, Monette Thompson, was a good friend of Sophia and Lenna.
“What are you doing here on a school night?” Monette asked from behind the bar. She wore a tank top that showed off her slim build and warm, amber-brown skin. Her tightly cropped afro glistened with sweat from the heat of the lights above.
“Just needed to clear my head.”
“You want a beer?”
“No, just water.” Alex threw the truck keys on the bar.
Monette slid the water over. “Why does your head need clearing? Let me guess, a woman?”
“Yep.” Alex took a sip from her glass. “Somebody off-limits.” Alex flashed back to earlier in the afternoon, and Lenna waggling a stern finger in her face and making her promise to “keep it in her pants.”
“Married?”
“No.”
“So why is she off-limits?”
“It’s a new client. Lenna thinks I’ll screw up the job if I sleep with her.”
“Well, good luck with that. Let me know if you need anything stronger than water.”
Alex spun around to face the dance floor, resting her elbows on the bar behind her, and surveyed the room. Every time her eyes landed on a blonde, she thought of Sam. Maybe a redhead would be better. She spotted an attractive woman with auburn hair. Perfect. It didn’t take long for Alex’s stare to be returned. After they’d held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, the woman ambled over.
“Hey, do I know you?” she asked.
Alex smiled at the overused pickup line. “I don’t think so. I’m Alex.” She grasped the other woman’s hand in hers.
“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Sarah.”
It felt like someone threw a bucket of icy water on her. Suddenly, nothing about this seemed right. For the first time in a long time, Alex didn’t want to get laid by some beautiful stranger. Probably just a temporary reaction to spending time with her favorite actress. She was saved from an awkward situation by the ringing of her phone. It was Lenna.
She leaned into the woman’s ear. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this.”
The woman’s bottom lip jutted out with disappointment and she walked away.
Alex accepted the call. “What’s up?”
“Where are you? I’m checking to make sure your clothes are still on.”
Alex laughed. “Yes, still fully clothed. I’m on my way home.”
* * *
When she walked through the door, all three of them were sitting on the couch with expectant looks on their faces. Yogi wanted his walk, and Lenna and Sophia wanted information.
“Well? How’d we do?”
Alex proudly tossed the signed contract at Lenna. “Signed, sealed, and delivered.”
Lenna paged through it. “Wow, she’s doing all this?”
“Yep.”
“Damn, and you didn’t even sleep with her? I’m impressed.”
“You owe me ten bucks.” Sophia extended a hand to collect.
Lenna waved her off, not quite ready to lose an Alexander Hamilton. “No three-ways or two-ways took place?”
“Nope.”
“Ten bu
cks please,” Sophia repeated. “I had faith in you, Alex. Your sister, on the other hand, did not.”
Alex pretended to be affronted. “Ye of little faith.”
Lenna’s eyes narrowed. “So it was uneventful?”
“Yes.” Alex paused and held up a finger. “Well, she was drunk and asked me to cuddle, but other than that, it was uneventful.”
Lenna and Sophia glared for a moment, then cracked up.
“I owe you ten bucks, babe,” Lenna said.
Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m beat. Gonna walk the dog and hit the hay.”
“Good job, Hearteyes.”
Alex put Yogi’s leash on and led him outside. As she walked around the block, her thoughts wandered back to Sam. Alex had smelled the alcohol on her breath right away. Drugs and alcohol were a big part of Hollywood, and Sam wouldn’t be the first actress with a drinking problem. But that adorable confession, about how nervous she was, how she never usually drank, somehow made her more attractive, if that was possible.
Oh well, for now, this woman was off-limits. But when the job was finished? Game on.
* * *
“Let’s recap, shall we? There seem to be three major mistakes,” Jade said.
Jade and Sam were at Emma’s for girl’s night. Sam sat on the couch rubbing her eyes, while Jade paced around the room like a prosecutor.
“And what was mistake number one?” Jade asked.
Sam mumbled something.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“The tequila.”
“Yes, the tequila. Miss Barrett, how much tequila are talking about?”
“Let me go back in my notes.” Emma made a show of paging through her phone. “Ah, she drank an unknown quantity right from the bottle.”
“I just took a mouthful. It was barely a sip.”
Jade waved a hand. “At this time, the sip is conjecture. So, let’s see, a mouthful, is generally, what? One or two ounces?”
“It was actually two mouthfuls,” Sam painfully admitted.
“Oh. Now we’re up to two unsanitary mouthfuls, straight from the bottle. Remind me to never hire you as my bartender.” Jade clasped her hands behind her back and continued to pace. “What were you hoping to accomplish?”
#CassiNova Page 6
