Steph crinkled her nose. “The ukulele.”
Amber cracked up. “So you’ll…” She waited for Steph to fill in the blank.
Steph dropped her head in her hands. “I have no idea.”
Amber rubbed Steph’s back. “You want me to have Bare talk to him? Man to man? People are always telling him stuff. He’s like the easiest person in the world to talk to.”
Steph shook her head. “No, but thanks. I guess I’ll just learn to play the ukulele.”
Amber grinned. “Or try calculus.”
Steph groaned. Amber patted her back. “Don’t worry. You’ll think of something.”
Things got worse. The next week was a firestorm of media attention over Griffin Huntley’s secret wife. She didn’t know what had escalated the story, but it was a national sensation. Press followed her to and from work, snapping pictures and firing questions at her. She tried to ignore them with a terse “no comment,” but the questions kept coming:
“Why have you been hiding?”
“How do you feel about his other women?”
“Are you getting back together?”
She was afraid to go anywhere. She went straight home after work and refused to answer her phone. It was just the press calling. All of this attention and the pictures floating around of her and Griff were not helping her case with Dave. She’d even had to sit down and explain herself to the principal. Apparently, a lot of parents were calling the school wanting to know if she’d be leaving soon to reunite with her famous husband.
Griff sent her yellow roses with a note: Hang in there. Love, Griff. She threw them out.
Still no word from Dave. She’d tried calling him. He’d told her very firmly that there was nothing more to say between them as long as Griff was in the picture. As the days went by, Steph went from distraught to irritated with Dave. What happened to the guy who fought for her? The guy who kicked Griff’s ass and landed in jail. What happened to the possessive guy that claimed her body, declaring it mine, mine, mine?
Damn fragile male ego.
~ ~ ~
Jaz and Amber showed up at Steph’s place at the end of that media-frenzy week from hell for an intervention of sorts.
Steph answered the buzzer and could hear Jaz telling off some reporters.
“You’d better back the hell off,” Jaz hollered. “The story is in L.A., not here.”
“Get in here,” Steph said in the intercom, buzzing them in.
She opened the door to find Amber clutching a brown bag and Jaz looking pissed off.
“We’re here to fix your life,” Jaz declared.
Steph snorted. “It’s not broken.”
Amber started unpacking the brown bag. Wine, potato chips, a pint of Shane’s Scoops double chocolate fudge, and something called a Bliss SatisfyHer, which was a curved, knobby, twitchy-looking vibrator. Also, as big as a ferret. Steph shuddered.
“Uh…” Steph said.
“That’s from me,” Jaz said, pointing to the Bliss SatisfyHer. “You don’t need a man. And you’ve juggled two men long enough. Set them free and get on with your life.”
Amber bit her lip. Steph thought about asking if Jaz had her own Bliss SatisfyHer, but was afraid to know. This had to be a joke gift. Right? She exchanged a look with Amber, who looked like she was about to bust a gut trying not to laugh. But Jaz wasn’t laughing, so Steph refrained from looking a gift ferret in the mouth.
“The guys are free,” Steph said, carrying the Bliss SatisfyHer to her nightstand drawer so Loki didn’t mistake it for a vibrating hairless ferret and try to hunt it. She returned to the living room to find Amber pouring the wine.
The three of them settled on her sofa in front of the snacks. Amber handed her the ice cream and a spoon.
“So, how are you handling all the press?” Jaz asked. “Amber says you’re hiding out here.”
“I’m just trying to lay low,” Steph said. She shoved a spoonful of double chocolate fudge into her mouth and savored the rush of flavor.
“Can I be honest?” Jaz asked. Steph and Amber exchanged an amused look. Like Jaz needed any encouragement to say what was on her mind. “You’re handling this all wrong. I’ve had some brushes with fame during some of our more popular Broadway show runs. You just gotta live your life and keep the press in their place. Don’t let them determine where you go or what you do. You wanna go out for a drink at Garner’s? You go. You want to walk your cat, you go.”