The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy)

by Gretchen Galway

  “But I don’t love him,” Krista said. “Maybe I could, but—”

  “Not that kind of love. The need to be loved. You’ve always been a little extra deprived in that department. Your parents are okay, but they’re kind of cold. Measuring everything out like you owe them something.”

  “They’re a million times better than your parents and you don’t have a problem,” Krista told Betty.

  Betty removed her arm. Sank back into the water. “I’ve slept with two different women since Monday.”

  Lucy exchanged glances with Fawn. The chance to slip away had long passed.

  “Two? How? You were with Jaynette both nights,” Krista said.

  “Jaynette’s a teacher. She’s used to working in a group.”

  That broke through Krista’s funk. She put her hand over her mouth to smother a laugh.

  “Krista…” Lucy didn’t know what to say. “I’m really sorry, I had no idea.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Krista said, not sounding like it was. “I just don’t get it, though. He’s so big. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with somebody your own size? It’s kind of a waste.”

  Krista had always had body image problems. Lucy didn’t believe a woman should have to choose her partners based on height. “I didn’t waste an inch of him.”

  Krista closed her eyes. “Thank you so much for sharing.”

  “You hooked up with Alex! Besides, I had no idea you were interested in Miles,” Lucy said. “And neither did he, I’m sure.”

  Krista pulled her hair back and squeezed out the water. “I gave him a pretty good idea.” She climbed out of the hot tub. “Forget it. What’s done is done. I think I’ll go get a salt scrub. No, Betty, stay where you are. Please.” She smiled crookedly. “You’ll never get back in that wetsuit.”

  The three of them watched Krista stride away and climb through the pool bubble.

  “Damn,” Lucy said. “I should have seen that coming.”

  “I tried to tell you,” Fawn said.

  “You should have talked faster.”

  Betty floated over to Lucy. “Didn’t waste an inch, huh?” She grinned. “About time you found someone who could satisfy you. Guess you just needed to think big."

  * * *

  Miles slept through the afternoon to recover from the night before. When he woke to a banging on his door it was almost six in the evening.

  Assuming it was Huntley, he shouted, “Go away!” and pulled a pillow over his head. The only person he wanted to see was Lucy and she wouldn’t knock that hard. Smiling, he tried to reclaim the erotic dream about her he’d been enjoying before the interruption. Whatever Huntley wanted, it couldn’t be remotely as important as Lucy licking maple syrup off his testicles.

  The banging continued. Then, “Miles! I know you’re in there!”

  His father. Miles cursed as Lucy slipped away and he was stuck with reality. The sheets were tangled around his legs, half off the bed, and he had a raging hard-on.

  “Not a good time!” he shouted. He untangled his legs and sat up.

  “I know she’s in there!”

  That woke him fully. Why would his father care who he was sleeping with—

  Oh, lord. Did the man never learn? Miles pulled his jeans on and trod to the door. He took a deep breath before he opened it to his father’s red face.

  “Where is she?”

  Miles sighed. “I should pretend I don’t know who you’re talking about, but you’re too predicable.”

  Alan pushed him aside and stormed past the mess of the bed to the bathroom. He even looked in the closet before striding out to the rear patio.

  Miles grabbed a bottle of water and sat on the edge of the mattress. When his father came back, Miles just stared at him.

  Still red in the face, Alan paced in front of him. “She probably jumped over that fence. God knows she’s capable of it. Working out all day.” Jaw tight, he glanced at Miles. “You think I’m stupid enough to think that body is for my benefit?”

  Miles saw the pain in his father’s eyes. He didn’t want to feel sorry for him but he wasn’t used to seeing the charming, mighty Alan Girard look like a wounded old man.

  “She wasn’t here. Never was.”

  His father slumped down on the bed next to him. “Right.”

  “Never. And I mean never.”

  “You don’t look like a man who spent the night alone.”

  “I didn’t.”

  He glanced sideways at him. “Who, then?”

  Miles hesitated, then shrugged. “Lucy. The maid of honor.”

  His father mulled that over. His face was reverting to its normal color. “You were together earlier. When we met.”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you were using her as an excuse to get away from me.”

  “No, I used you as excuse to get away with her.” Miles gulped down a mouthful of water. “And Lucy or no Lucy, I wouldn’t touch Heather with a ten-foot pole.” Unless it was electrified.

  Alan massaged his face and sighed. “All right.” He got to his feet. “I’ll go.”

  He made it to the door before Miles said, “Wait.”

  Alan turned. Once again, Miles was struck by the difference in the man he’d feared and revered all his adolescence. “I’ve been stupid,” he said finally.

  Mouth flattening, his father closed his eyes. “So she was here. I knew it.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. Give it a rest.” Miles was going to tell him he regretted running away. That he should have made him believe the truth, that life was too short. But his father, even now, was too blinded by jealousy. “Check the staff housing. She always did like them young.”

  His father slammed the door on his way out.

  Chapter 19

  THIS WASN’T WHERE MILES WANTED to be.

  The sun had disappeared behind the redwoods, casting the path to the lodge into premature night at just past seven o’clock.

  He was going to find Heather and deal with this once and for all. Then he’d be able to spend another night with Lucy. Right now he was too angry to be fit company for anyone.

  The lodge was very warm. Though high summer, a fire burned in a cast iron woodstove near the seating area. A handful of people sat there, most with a glass of wine in their hand. He didn’t recognize any of them. They looked rich. Part of his father’s generation.

  One of the staff, a fifty-something woman in a baggy beige dress and chunky jewelry, hailed him with an outstretched glass. “Good evening. I’ve got a wonderful Shiraz here tonight.”

  He scanned the rest of the room. No sign of his lovely stepmother. “No, thank you.” He strode past the group to check in the little store before he tried the pool.

  Bingo.

  Heather stood in the aisle talking to Fawn’s mother, Geri. He resented how the sight of her always made his palms sweat.

  “Heather,” he said. His determination to get this off his chest made his voice harsher than he’d intended.

  She jumped and spun around. “Miles, you scared me.” Smiling, she looked at Geri. “Have you two met?”

  That’s when he noticed Heather was holding a box of condoms and a small black bottle of lube.

  A surprisingly forceful wave of pity for his father washed over him. “I want to talk to you,” he said.

  Geri raised her eyebrows. Heather put the contraceptives back on the shelf. “Of course, Miles. I was just telling Geri how we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  Geri looked at her watch. “Lord, look at the time. I’ve got to be going. Nice meeting you, Heather.” She gave Miles a funny look on her way out.

  Great. The condoms, the flirtatious greeting… now Fawn’s family thought he was having sex with his stepmother.

  “Fantastic to see you, Miles. You look gorgeous. I didn’t get a chance to tell you the other day.” She walked up to him and patted his chest.

  He grabbed her wrist and squeezed. “We’re going to go for a little walk.”

&nb
sp; Her eyes narrowed. “You’re hurting me.”

  “The path to the parking lot is lighted. We’ll walk there,” he said, releasing her.

  “How romantic.” She strode ahead of him.

  They both waved the wine lady away and stepped out into the night. The temperature had already dropped in the few minutes he’d been inside. Wind blew Heather’s hair into her face.

  “Lovely night for a stroll. How nice of you to think of me,” she said.

  “My father was looking for you.”

  “If you’re so eager for me to see him, perhaps I should leave you and go to him right now.”

  “He thought you were with me.”

  “And so I am,” she said.

  “He nearly knocked my door down.”

  “He does like to throw his weight around.”

  “Damn it, Heather—” He gritted his teeth, waited until he was in control of himself. In a calmer tone, he continued, “I know he must have made you sign some killer prenup, but maybe you could do the right thing… just because it’s the right thing to do.”

  They’d been walking side-by-side down the narrow path, but now she stopped and turned to face him. “You’re lecturing me? You haven’t spoken to your own father in sixteen years.”

  “And you haven’t been loyal to him for one day.”

  All hint of warmth drained out of her face. Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know shit.”

  “I know plenty.”

  “You know shit.” She continued walking.

  “What happened then is hardly something I’d forget. Or are you going to tell me I misunderstood why you stuck your hand down my pants?”

  That shut her up. They walked past the last cabin. A beam of sunlight sliced through a gap in the fog and the trees and lit up a small meadow to their left. His heart pounded. He felt on fire. He should have confronted her years ago.

  “I don’t remember doing what you say I did—”

  “Liar.”

  She snorted. “But if I did, I apologize.”

  “You apologize?”

  “Yes, I apologize. Though honestly, you’ve certainly milked it over the years, walking around with that big chip on your shoulder when really you should be thanking me.”

  “Listen to me. I don’t give a damn about what you did to me.”

  “Now who’s a liar?”

  “It’s my father you’re hurting. And God knows who else.”

  “Please. Don’t pretend you suddenly care about dear old Dad.” She turned and started walking back the way they’d come. “This conversation is over.”

  He strode after her. “I’m not through with you.”

  “Give it up. If you want a real conversation, talk to him. It’s been almost two decades. I think you’re due.”

  “I already talked to him. He’s upset his wife sleeps around.” Disgusted, he stopped where he was, letting her walk away, talking to her back. “I don’t get it. Why would you stay married when you’re so miserable?”

  She stopped and gave him a small smile over her shoulder. “Who said I was miserable?”

  * * *

  Fighting a yawn and feeling dead on her feet, Lucy knocked on Krista and Betty’s cabin door. She’d intended on taking a nap instead of having dinner to rest up for another night with Miles, but she felt too guilty to sleep. She kept seeing Krista’s stricken face.

  Krista had always been an odd combination of needy and invincible. Much more popular in high school than Lucy, she’d always known what to wear, what to say. She’d been in the student government clique, starred in several plays, dated the best-looking guys.

  But it was never enough. She never seemed satisfied. Something about Krista—no matter how many people liked her, it was never enough.

  Over the years those popular friends hadn’t stuck around but the motley crew she’d known since elementary school—Betty, Fawn, and Lucy—had. To her credit, Krista never turned her back on them when it might have made her more popular with her exclusive crowd. In high school, she ate lunch with Betty—whose hair had alternated between pink and platinum blond—and always chose Lucy for her team in P.E., no matter how much grief her cooler friends gave her.

  Krista got on Lucy’s nerves, but she was a good person. She was a good friend. It bothered Lucy that she’d hurt her, however unintentionally.

  Lucy knocked harder. “Krista? It’s Lucy. I know you’re in there. I saw you go inside!”

  And she’d been alone. If Krista had been with Alex, God knows she never would have interrupted.

  The door opened a crack. Krista’s tear-streaked face appeared. “Lucy?”

  “Hey. Can we talk?”

  “We don’t have to talk. It’s my issue, I’ll deal with it.”

  Lucy hesitated. If she tried to force a conversation it would seem like she was only there for her own sake, not Krista’s. “Are you sure? You seemed awfully upset.”

  “I probably just need to be alone.” But she opened the door wider and moved a little to the side.

  Lucy got the hint. She stepped into the cabin. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am I didn’t understand what you were going through earlier.”

  “But I did tell you. Right after I talked to Miles that first time. And you told me I had to figure out what might be worth loving about me before I expected a man to want me.”

  Oh-oh. “That’s not what I meant.” Lucy rubbed her temple and gestured near the rear of the cabin. “Do you have a private patio back there like mine?”

  Krista nodded.

  Lucy got first aid out of the mini-bar. She hadn’t planning on drinking any alcohol tonight but that was apparently unrealistic. “Let’s have a glass of wine and talk about how awesome you are.”

  “No, I’m not, obviously I’m not—”

  Lucy nudged Krista with her knee and herded her onto the back patio. She set the bottle and glasses on a small table near the hot tub and smiled at her old friend. “You want to know a secret? I’m not kidding about it being a secret, either. You’ll have to promise not to tell anybody. Really. Anybody.”

  Krista sat on the edge of a teak bench across from her and crossed her arms over her chest. “Even Fawn?”

  “Especially Fawn,” Lucy said, dead serious.

  Interest sparked in her eyes. “All right. What?”

  Lucy took a deep breath. “Promise?”

  Krista sighed and drew an X over her heart. “I promise.”

  The wine wasn’t chilled, but Lucy poured a glass and handed it over. She hoped her confession didn’t come back to bite her. “I’ve always thought you were the one who should have been a model.”

  Krista froze with the glass at her lips, eyes wide. She took a sip. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want Fawn to know that?”

  The wine was excellent. It was worth drinking at any temperature. “You’re right. I left off the juicy part.”

  Now Krista was smiling a little. “Yeah?”

  “I still don’t understand why Fawn is an internationally known supermodel and you aren’t. I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. In person, I mean.”

  Krista looked around as though they might be overheard. “But Fawn is gorgeous. She’s six feet tall, thin, blond, those eyes, that skin, she’s so graceful—”

  “All true. Which just goes to show what I think of your total hotness,” Lucy said, swallowing another mouthful. “Not to get all Betty on you. This isn’t, like, me trying to be the most promiscuous bisexual slut in the wedding party or something. Collecting as many of you as I can.”

  Krista stared at her. Finally a corner of her mouth twitched. “Saving Betty for last?”

  “No. She was for tomorrow night at the rehearsal dinner. I was saving Huntley’s lesbian sister for the wedding itself. If I’m going to gay, I might as well go for an heiress.”

  “She’s cute. I’ve seen pictures.”

  Lucy saluted her with the wine glass
. “Good. I’m very picky.”

  Krista laughed out loud and shook her head. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

  “All right, I wasn’t really going bi on you. I’ve got enough trouble with men to start multitasking.”

  Still smiling, Krista drained her glass and put it down. Then she lay down on the bench and stared up at the darkening sky, her hands folded over her stomach. “Thanks. I guess.”

  “You’ve already started to dismiss what I said. I never said anything before because I didn’t think it should matter what people look like, especially between friends, and I didn’t want you to think I was judging you that way,” Lucy said. “But you’re so damn insecure and it makes no sense. Of course guys want you. Of course Alex wanted to sleep with you. The question I wish you’d ask yourself is, ‘Is he worth it? Is he worth me?’”

  Krista tilted her head and looked at her. “Is that what you do?”

  Lucy thought about how she’d measured and weighed every man she’d ever known, estimating their sum total of qualities against her requirements. “Yes. Too much.”

  “I agree.”

  Lucy snorted into her glass. “You’re supposed to reassure me I’m doing what’s right for me.”

  Krista pushed herself back up to sitting. “But you’re not.” She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees. “You wanted Alex because he was good enough for marriage. Then you wanted Miles because he was good enough for sex.”

  The wine dripped onto her lap as Lucy lost her grip on the glass. “That’s not fair. That’s not—”

  “Not once did you ask yourself if you were good enough to use other people for what you wanted, no matter how they might get hurt when your experiment was over.” Krista pushed up to her feet. “I’m flattered you think I’m pretty. I know I’m pretty. But what I want goes deeper than that, and I think it’s really sad you can’t even see that. For me or for yourself.”

  Stunned, Lucy put the glass down and stood up. “Of course it goes deeper than that. And why shouldn’t I think about what I’m worth and what I need? That’s what everyone else is doing.”

  “But it’s always an experiment with you. You’re so heartless. Calculating. Dan left you for another woman and right away you started looking for a new victim.”