“I think it’s nice that he cares.”
“You two could have kids. I think you’d make good parents. I know I’d make a wonderful uncle.”
“You are well and truly getting ahead of yourself there, good sir,” I said. “You know that’s not the situation.”
“Isn’t it?” He scratched at his stubble. “Don’t get me wrong, Paddy’s a good actor. But he’s not that good. And you’re definitely not, no insult intended.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Jack. Maybe I’m not exactly sure what the situation is between us. But let’s just take things easy.”
He leaned against the wall with his feet crossed at the ankles. The picture of a rock star in repose with his tattoos, ripped jeans, and big black boots. “It’s a timing thing often with relationships, isn’t it? I mean, it had only just occurred to the ugly-as-sin fool that he might want to be in a relationship. That it was something he could fit into his life. Then things went south with Liv. Then you appeared.”
“Are you saying I’m convenient?” I asked.
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“I’m beginning to see why you get divorced so often.”
He grinned. “I’m a romantic. And there’s nothing as exciting as that initial rush when you meet someone and it’s all going great and the sex is amazing. Well, almost nothing as exciting. It’s only after the first couple of dates when everything they do stops being quite so cute and you start to wonder if they’re actually an asshole. Or maybe you are. One of those things. Or possibly a mix of both.”
“Right,” I deadpanned.
“I actually think that’s why you and Paddy are doing so well together,” he said thoughtfully. “Mei and I smoked a joint last night and talked about it.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah.” Muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. “For as long as I’ve known him, he’s never actually managed to last past the second or third date. Just has nil interest in taking anything further. In actually getting to know someone. But with you, he has no choice. He has to be there. If he wants this whole reputation reversal to work, then he has to stick it out.”
I just blinked.
“What?”
“So I’m inescapable and convenient?”
“Exactly!”
Not saying he was necessarily completely wrong, but his summation of the situation did not please me. Patrick and I might be new and untested, we might even just be friends who fuck, but we had the possibility of a future. Maybe.
“Is this idiot bothering you?” asked Patrick, slinging an arm around my neck.
Cole joined us with another drink in hand. “His mouth was moving. That’s usually the sign.”
Jack flipped them the bird. “You know, we should all fuck off for a few days. Dad’s got a private island in the Bahamas we could use.”
“No can do, sadly,” said Cole. “I’m due back on set tomorrow, then there’s the awards ceremony tomorrow night.”
Patrick wound a strand of my hair around his finger, giving it a gentle tug. “Also, you haven’t talked to your dad in years, remember?”
Jack snorted. “The man took a lot of drugs in the nineties. He wouldn’t even notice if we visited. It’s not a place he goes often.”
“Ready for your first red-carpet event tomorrow night, Norah?” asked Cole.
“Sure,” I lied.
“You’ll be great.” Patrick placed a kiss on top of my head. “Just wait and see.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Turns out that walking a red carpet is half fun/half bitch. The Actors Foundation Awards were televised and huge as heck. I might only be the fiancée, but the preparation was intense. First came waxing, followed by a facial; my hair color was touched up and a light spray tan applied. Some of these things had been planned for a day or two before, but we’d been in Malibu. It made things busy. Angie tried to force a last-minute juice cleanse on me. However, Mei saved the day with a soda and burger. Love that woman.
My nails were done, hair styled into a textured loose bun that sat on the back of my neck, and about a gallon of makeup applied. Which was good and right given our late night. Times like these were why Baby Jesus invented concealer. Given the weather had warmed up, the underarm sweat patches seemed like a great idea. But the really fun part was squeezing my ass into not one, but two pairs of Spanx. Who even needed to breathe or bend at the waist?
Then, at long last, it was down to the Dolce & Gabbana black heavy lace cocktail dress, a pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, and dangly teardrop diamond earrings on loan from Chopard. The assistant stylist smiled, showed me a couple of ready poses for the red carpet, took a photo to send to his boss, and dashed off to dress another client.
“What do you think?” asked Mei.
I stared at the glamorous stranger in the mirror. “I don’t know. You think he’ll like it?”