Prologue
Zuri
I hated celery, but the diet I’d been following for three days extolled the virtues of the disgusting stuff, so I was doing my best not to be sick every time I bit into it.
Why did it have those string things in it?
Were they even digestible?
Did I really want a smaller ass that badly?
Even thinking about it had my stomach twisting, and the gag I only just held back was so violent, I knew I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t eat anymore.
Deciding that throwing the stuff in the garbage was the kindest thing I could do to my body when it came to this diet—which wasn’t kind at all—I braced to get up when the door to the staff room slammed open, and a man dragged a pretty dark-haired woman in with him.
It might have been self-preservation given the circumstances behind my move here, or it might have been the fact I’d always been an awkward person, but I slammed my ass back down in my chair and tried to disappear into the wall behind me, doing my best to act like I was normal instead of like the anxious hooker I was inside.
This left me with just my phone and the green piece of Satan to focus on, though. Shit!
“She’s worse than bad,” the guy hissed. “She’s like an octopus.”
I didn’t want to do it, I truly didn’t. I wanted to remain invisible, but of course, that fucking meme I’d seen on Facebook when I’d first came in here on my break resurfaced in my brain, and out it came.
“Did you know that the box jellyfish has sixty anuses? So if you get stung by one, you’ll end up with a scar with them on it for the rest of your life.”
Shoot. Me. Now!
Way to go, you dork.
The man’s back and shoulders stiffened, then he slowly turned around to look at me, not looking at all surprised that I was in the room as I accidentally took another bite of the god awful vegetable. Maybe he had eyes in the back of his head—his gorgeous, silky looking, dark head.
“Are you for real?”
Tearing off another mouthful of celery with my teeth and unable to stop the grimace that followed it, I did my best not to look like I was close to shitting my pants as he skimmed me with his eyes.
“Eh, I saw it on a meme, so I’m not sure if it’s true or not.”
“I was stung by a box jellyfish four years ago when I was on vacation in Indonesia,” he replied, leaning down to pull up the leg of his jeans. “It burns and goes red when I eat shellfish and seafood.”
Leaning around the chairs, I looked at the scar as best I could, still chewing away and shuddering at how the strings in it kept pulling on my tongue.
It was when I swallowed it and felt them tug on the way down my throat, that I gave up. No celery ever again, and if the diet insisted on it, I’d substitute it with cucumber.
Throwing what was left of it on the table, I slid out of my chair and squatted down next to him, examining it more closely.
“Huh, and I thought people who got butt holes tattooed on them were weird.” Again, I told myself not to, but my finger was a traitorous bitch and had its own mind. It wanted to feel the scar on his leg, so it did. “Do you think that’s an ass there? It looks different from the other ones.”
“Do y’all want me to leave you alone, or…?” the woman who’d come in here with him asked, sounding like she was choking back a laugh.
This was error number two of the day: I’d not only failed at keeping quiet and going unnoticed, but I’d forgotten to be vigilant of my surroundings, too.
Almost as if he’d forgotten she existed, the man stood up straight, looking over his shoulder at her. “You don’t leave my sight, hear me?”
Saluting him, she smiled at me as I straightened up to my full height. “Hey, I’m Rose Beauregard. I don’t think I know you?”
Grinning widely, she held her hand out to me. “Digging the last name. I’m Zuri Hadid, and I just started yesterday.”
She shook and then released my hand with a friendly smile and gave the guy a nudge forward. “This is Garrett Evans. Garrett, say hello to the lovely Zuri.”
“Hello,” shooting her a glare, he mumbled. “Thanks for pointing out the ass holes on my leg.”
Bursting out laughing, I moved stiffly back to the celery and threw it in the trash. “I love random facts, so if you ever want to win a quiz, shout me.”
Little did I know, but the meme was going to create a friendship that I wasn’t ready for but that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on if I’d known before how amazing it was going to be.