by Bryce Oakley
"That?" Pia said, leaning against the brick beside her.
"You know," Zoey said.
Oh God, it sounded so juvenile coming out of her mouth.
She took another deep breath, her heart beginning to beat in an even, calm rhythm.
"Oh, you mean, that time you kissed me?" Pia asked, laughing.
"I didn't kiss you. You kissed me," Zoey said.
Pia nodded, the corners of her mouth curving as though she was suppressing a smile. "However you want to remember it, Zo," she said with a pointed look.
Zoey threw her hands in the air, laughing. "No way. You kissed me. I wrote an entire song about it, so don't pretend like you don't remember."
Pia turned, her hip leaning against the brick as she crossed her arms over her chest. "So, you wrote a song about our first kiss?" She asked. She looked positively mischievous.
Zoey inhaled a deep breath, trying not to go with her first instinct, which was to immediately and emphatically yell "Nuh uh."
"A stranger had never forced me to kiss them in a dark party at midnight on New Year's Eve before," Zoey said.
"Forced," Pia repeated, as though the word shocked her. "Would we call that force?"
"Maybe forced is a strong word. Coerced?" Zoey said.
"Coerced?" Pia said. "Or could we say..." She looked upward, thinking. "Persuaded in a fun, consensual way?"
Zoey raised a skeptical brow. "However you want to remember it," she said.
Playing and teasing and joking with Pia had put her in a much better mood, calming her panic.
Pia snorted, but her face turned serious. "I mean it, if you're not into this, I'll stop. I think I've just been reading the signals a little weird. Just say the word and I'll back off."
Zoey kicked her foot at the ground. This was her chance to stop whatever was going on between them. To assert that she wasn't gay. Not even a little bit gay. Not even casually queer. Lazily lesbian. Curious, even.
But... she was. Curious. Even though she hated the stereotype that she was becoming.
It didn't mean she had to tell anyone.
It didn't have to mean anything, if it did happen.
It could be their secret.
"I'm not saying that," Zoey said, raising her chin to look Pia in the eye. "I'm saying I'm not sure what's... what."
What's what? She hated the words that were coming out of her mouth. Pia deserved someone who knew what they wanted.
Pia's eyes narrowed, as though zeroing in on something she wanted terribly. "I'm going to give you a few days to think about that answer before I kiss you again," she said.
Again.
To Zoey, that sounded like a promise. Like the kind of promise she didn't know if she wanted Pia to keep.
Chapter Forty
Pia
Tulip and Cricket tugged at the leash tied to her waist, pulling her forward on the well-groomed trail. Thankfully, during a weekday, the Solstice Canyon Trail near her home wasn't as packed as it typically was on the weekends.
Pia wore a hat and sunglasses and those that passed her made no sign that they recognized her. She posted about her dogs on Instagram, and many times, even as incognito as she dressed, a fan would notice Cricket's missing leg or Tulip's nicked ear.
They were a little hard to miss, smiling and wiggling happily at anyone who passed them.
It had been nearly a week since she had pho with Zoey, but she was still turning the conversation over and over in her head as if it was a song she couldn't unstick from her memory. She smirked, thinking that Zoey was as pervasive as Baby Shark.
Straight women were trouble. She didn't want trouble. But she also didn't want anything serious. After Elle's death, she had been walking around with only a piece of her original heart still in her chest. For such a small piece, she didn't want to risk it.
But maybe someone like Zoey was a good option. She wouldn't get attached because she wouldn't want anything serious. Whereas Pia had grown tired of always being the commitment-phobe, Zoey would surely outshine her in that category.
She pulled out her phone to text Freya.
Pia: Maybe sleeping with a straight woman is actually the answer.
Freya: No.
Pia: Maybe I'm onto something here.
Freya: No.
Pia: Give me a good reason.
Freya: Not to pull the asshole card, but think of Sheila's interview coming up in only a month. You want to be casually fucking a woman who lives in the public eye as much as ZM?
Well, fuck.
Freya had a point.
Although she was right, it was an asshole move to pull the big guns.
The thought of Sheila's interview made her stomach churn. She paused, grabbing the leashes at her waist to reign in the dogs. She knelt down, petting their heads.
She had worked so hard to get Sheila's interview to happen. Her entire career was about to hinge on that moment; she could feel it.
Some little voice in the back of her mind chanted, Don't fuck it up. Don't fuck it up.
She scratched both dogs behind the ears as she glanced up, seeing that they were much closer to the ruins of the Roberts Ranch House than she had realized. Built in the 1950s, the home had burned down in the 80s, but a few walls and the foundation remained.
According to the sign that she had read dozens of times on that hike, the original home had been outfitted with elaborate pumps and pipes to protect it from wildfires, but with a lack of maintenance, it burned down anyway.
As she approached the ruins, she couldn't help but think of them as some particularly apt metaphor. Only fireplaces, walls, and the outline of pool were obvious. What once was called a Tropical Terrace was now a burned ruin of a building surrounded by palm trees.
Her phone dinged with a text notification.
Zoey's name lit her screen, and she couldn't help but feel the tiny tug of a smile at her mouth.
Cricket pounced after a lizard, pulling her further into the ruins.
Zoey: I never did ask, why do you own that pho place?
Pia raised a brow, glancing up from her phone to check on the dogs.
Tulip was sniffing around in the dirt and Cricket was in a play pose, looking for his lizard again.
Pia: I liked it.
Zoey: So you just buy things you like?
Pia: No, sometimes I find them in dark corners of parties.
The three dots popped up under Zoey's name, then disappeared. They reappeared, then disappeared.
Pia tugged on the dog's leashes, determined to walk until the end of the trail to see the waterfall.
Had she gone overboard?
Something about Zoey made her completely over the top. She was saying the types of things she only thought about saying while smirking instead.
Zoey was just fun to play with. Low stakes. Nothing was ever going to happen. But it made Pia want to push her buttons all the same.
Zoey: Funny, I didn't take Minh for the type to kiss you.
Pia laughed out loud, looking down at her phone. She liked it when Zoey cut her off at the knees when she wasn't expecting it.
Pia: I can recruit even the most surprising ones.
In truth, Pia bought the pho restaurant because it was Elle's favorite place to eat, and after her death, the restaurant almost closed. She couldn't imagine living in a world where she couldn't taste that pho and think of the way Elle would always put in way too many jalapeno slices and then wave her hand in front of her mouth as she sniffled and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Was it slightly fucked up that she had taken Zoey to Elle's favorite place?
Well, in hindsight... a bit.
But she would like to think that Elle would appreciate her spending companionable time with a beautiful woman.
The waterfall came into sight and she walked up to it, then sat down on one of the rocks near the small pool. Tulip flopped down into the shade and Cricket climbed like a mountain goat onto the rock next to her. She grabbed a collapsable water bowl out of her backp
ack and filled it up for the dogs.
It wasn't a gigantic waterfall, but the soothing sound of the falling water helped clear her mind.
Pia realized that Zoey must have been texting her from a stop on the start of the promotional tour that she had mentioned the last time they had spoken.
Pia: Where are you?
Zoey: Boston.
Pia: What are you doing?
Zoey: Taking a nap.
Pia did her best not to picture Zoey in bed.
Pia: Sounds relaxing, texting during a nap.
Zoey: Well, I can never resist a chance to multitask.
Pia: That explains the keyboard and singing.
Zoey: You forget that I also play the tambourine and melodica.
Pia quickly Googled what a melodica was. It seemed to be... a keyboard kazoo? She sent a picture of it to Zoey with a question mark.
Zoey: That's the one.
Pia: I've got to see this.
Zoey didn't respond for a few moments, but when she did, she sent back a video of her playing the first part of Bohemian Rhapsody. Her hair was tied back in a casual ponytail and she wore a baggy t-shirt. She didn't even appear to be wearing makeup.
Was Zoey the only person in the world who could look attractive while holding a tube attached to a tiny handheld keyboard? Quite possibly.
Pia saved the video immediately, feeling only slightly creepy about doing so.
She opened her camera and hit the video button.
"I'm not doing anything as impressive, but I am on a little hike with the dogs," she said, flipping the camera around to show Tulip and Cricket. "And there's a waterfall." She narrated, showing the waterfall. “Tulip is trying to eat a sky jalapeño, also known as a bee.”
Zoey: Your disguise looks like one of those serial killer sketches.
Pia laughed, seeing how the oversized sunglasses and hat pulled low looked in her video.
Pia: I'm sorry you had to find out about my true self this way.
Zoey sent back a video of the melodica, comically drawing out the notes womp womp.
She texted back before Pia could respond.
Zoey: Show me more of the dogs. Especially the one that eats sky jalapeños.
And so for hours, they each documented their days as Pia walked back to her car and Zoey got ready to go to an afternoon radio show. Pia got to choose what color lipstick Zoey put on — a gorgeous brick red color that made her complexion warm immediately — and Zoey picked out what Pia would make for dinner that night — spaghetti squash with pesto. Zoey even took a video of Billie sleeping in what looked like a large minivan, snoring loudly.
"I'm sending that video of Billie to TMZ. Turns out, she's not perfect all the time," Pia said with a laugh, standing in her kitchen again.
Zoey texted again.
Zoey: I'm going to bed, but this was fun. Maybe we could have lunch when I get back next week?
Pia: It's a date.
Except this time, she meant it.
Chapter Forty-One
Zoey
Zoey sat in her hotel room nursing a glass of white wine. It was 6pm and she was down for the count.
She had the night off and was already in pajamas and the fuzzy slippers that were in the hotel bathroom.
Billie and Domino were both out with their partners, and Meg had gone to meet people Zoey didn't know.
She was alone in New York City without a single plan. She could see a million interesting things, eat at some of the best restaurants in the world, even meet up with her other modelling friends.... but there she was, sitting on her bed, flipping through the on-demand movies.
Why was every single Die Hard movie on-demand?
Her phone dinged and she glanced over, seeing a text from Pia. Her insides did the tiniest of somersaults reading the name.
Pia: I forgot to ask. What’s your first favorite Yeats poem?
Zoey creased her brow, then remembered Pia’s toast at dinner.
Zoey: “When You Are Old.”
Pia: Was hoping you’d say that. Mine, too.
Zoey smiled down at her phone, warmth spreading through her at the simple thought that they had that poem in common.
Pia: What are you up to tonight?
Zoey picked up her phone and held her arm out to take a selfie of her in pajamas, making sure to include the glass of wine.
She sent the picture along with, "Living the dream."
Pia: No plans at all? In the city that never sleeps?
Zoey: I have blackout curtains.
Pia: Up for an adventure?
Zoey looked around, half-expecting to see Pia hiding behind the palm in the corner.
Zoey: What kind of adventure?
Pia: What's your call time for the Spotify sessions?
Zoey: 9am.
Pia: I can have you back before then.
Zoey raised a brow, sipping the rest of her wine.
Zoey: Do I have to wear clothes?
Pia: ...
Pia: I...
Pia: I am not sure how to politely answer that.
Zoey smirked.
Zoey: Real clothes. I'm already in comfies.
Pia: Famous people can be as eccentric as they wish.
Zoey: Oh, that explains a lot for you, then.
Pia: It's a good thing you're cute.
Zoey's cheeks heated at the flirtation. Or was it the wine? Maybe it was just the wine. She cleared her throat.
Zoey: I didn't realize you were in NYC?
Pia: I'm not.
Zoey: Then what's the plan? I'm not following.
Pia: What hotel are you staying in?
Zoey: Park Central.
Pia: Okay, I'll have a car outside and waiting for you in 15.
Zoey: Where are we going?
Pia: Do you trust me?
Zoey: Less and less.
Pia: Oh, ye of little faith. 15 minutes. Pack your overnight stuff.
Zoey downed the rest of her wine and hopped out of bed, squealing with giddiness. She opened a text to Domino to tell her that Pia was sending a private car for an adventure, but thought better of it. Best to keep whatever was going on between the two of them strictly between the two of them.
She rushed around the room, throwing her toiletries in a bag. Where would Pia be taking her? Why was it overnight? Was it somewhere in the city?
She looked down at her pajamas and changed into a t-shirt and tight jeans, hoping that whatever Pia was planning was casual.
Fifteen minutes later, she was sliding into the backseat of a car driven by a very nice man named Lucas who was holding a Ms. McCarren sign. Did he have a printer in his front seat? How had he gotten a sign so quickly?
Zoey watched out the window in confusion as they went into the Queens Midtown Tunnel. Why was she going to Queens? Was Pia taking her out into the middle of nowhere to murder her? Or was she going to Long Island? The Hamptons? She didn't take Pia for a Hamptons woman, but then again, she didn't know her that well, truly...
When it was clear they were pulling into La Guardia, but to a terminal she had never been in before, she leaned forward to Lucas. "Why are we at La Guardia?"
"Because Ms. Marino's plane is here, Miss," Lucas replied calmly and good-naturedly.
"Plane?" She repeated.
"Yes, Ms. McCarren," Lucas said, pulling the car in front of a pair of glass doors that led to a small building.
He turned off the car and came around to open Zoey's door, taking her small bag from her.
Together, they walked into the building and he approached the counter. "Ms. McCarren is here," he said to a woman behind a desk.
The woman smiled and typed something into a computer. "Welcome, Ms. McCarren," she said. "If you'll just follow me."
Lucas handed her bag to another man who appeared beside him. They seemed to know each other. Did Pia fly out of NYC often?
Zoey followed after the woman in the well-tailored black dress out through another set of glass doors and onto a tarmac. A small pri
vate jet was setting in front of her with its door open and stairs down.
The woman paused at the bottom of the stairs and gestured for Zoey to go up them.
"Are you sure?" Zoey asked. "Whose plane is this?"
"It's Pia Marino's."
Zoey gaped at her. "Pia has a plane?"
The woman gave her a polite smile, but Zoey could tell she was trying not to laugh. "Yes, Ms. McCarren," she said. "Have a fantastic flight."
"Thanks," Zoey said, looking up into the jet.
She had never flown privately before. Before, she thought that the height of luxury had been when The Shrikes got to fly First Class. Hell, she still felt a bit special in Business Class.
She walked into the plane, looking around. The seats were gigantic, with tiny tables in front of them. She pulled her phone out of her hand and took a selfie, showing the plane's interior in the background.
She sent it to Pia with the message, "You have a plane?"
Pia sent back a smiling emoji.
Zoey: Where am I going?
Pia: Idk.
Zoey: Will you be there?
Pia: If you're lucky.
A flight attendant appeared behind Zoey, startling her as he asked if she needed any help choosing a seat.
Zoey smiled, shaking her head. "Just trying to choose the best one."
"Well, the sun will be setting as we fly, so I'd choose the right side for the best view," he said. "My name's Archer. Can I get you anything to drink?"
Zoey settled into a large armchair on the right side of the plane. "Wine would be fantastic," she said.
"What type?" Archer asked, setting a cloth napkin down on the table in front of her.
