Best Friend's Ex Box Set

When my mind was a little clearer, I considered the “no sex with the assistant” pact I’d made the guys agree to and felt a little guilty. Just for a moment, I thought about not marking her for an interview. But between her impressive resume and those eyes…yeah, I definitely wanted to interview her. In fact, there was no way I couldn't.

“Nalia,” I said aloud as I stared at her picture. “You and I are definitely gonna meet. And I have to say, part of me hopes you blow me away in this interview and part of me hopes you totally bomb it. So, what’s it going to be?”

Chapter Six

Nalia

I was starving. And since I hadn’t had any breakfast, I decided to make myself an early lunch. I put some music on in the kitchen and started chopping up stuff for a big, chef salad, which would go a long way toward satiating my hunger. Grace strolled downstairs just as I was pouring dressing over the monster creation and grabbed a fork from a drawer, taking a bite out of the salad as she plopped onto a tall chair at the counter.

“Mmm, this is good, Nay. You make yummy salads.” She grinned, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, bits of it sticking out all over the place.

“I can’t believe how late we slept in,” I said, grabbing each of us a water from the fridge.

“Well, I don’t think either of us slept too well out in San Diego,” she replied with a mischievous grin on her face.

“I actually got plenty of sleep, unlike you. Granted, it was on a couch in the lounge, so it wasn't the comfiest night ever,” I joked, stabbing my fork into the salad. “You’re the one that didn’t get much sleep, Missy. You were far too busy with other things, I believe.”

“Guilty as charged.” Grace held a hand up and smiled before taking another forkful. We both giggled.

“Seriously, though, I had a fun time at the club, even though we weren't exactly there for too long. I really love Le Venin,” I said. I actually did have fun, despite playing wing woman to Grace while she got some. In spite of that, it had just been really nice to get away for a little while, and I always liked goi

ng to the beach down there.

“It was a fun trip,” she agreed, taking another bite. “God, this salad is so good. You really do have a talent for whipping these things up.”

“Speaking of 'tossing the salad,' I wonder if that guy knew who he was banging,” I said, snickering. “Grace Nelson, starlet of The Turning Globe.”

That devious grin came back over her face. “He had no idea at all, girl. None whatsoever! Just imagine if he happens across a commercial for it. I think it's safe to say he'll get quite a shock!”

We both giggled again, imagining the poor guy’s reaction.

“Speaking of the show, what’s your new co-star like? Eric Donovan, was it?”

“Ugh, he’s a total ass,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes, stabbing at the salad again. “He's got a serious attitude problem. But he's really stacked down below, though, if you know what I mean.”

“Wait, what? You already banged him?” I nearly choked on my salad. Grace gave me a helpless shrug, and I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. The woman was insatiable, it seemed—and far too reckless about it. This was not the first time this had happened, not by a long shot.

“Come on, Grace; I'm not trying to be judgmental or anything, I’m really not, but isn’t that how you ended up having problems with the last guy? I mean, you do know that old saying about not shitting where you eat, and all that?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe. It didn't matter anyway, though. The writers killed him off, and that was that, problem solved,” Grace grinned.

“Just be careful with that untamable libido of yours, or they might kill you off next,” I warned her. “We don't need you being out of work as well as me. Gosh, imagine that! What a train wreck it would be, the pair of us both unemployed!”

“The writers wouldn't kill me off. Well, not right now, anyway. I’m the most popular character on the show… But yeah, I get what you’re saying. I know it's best to keep work and play separate, so I’ll try to behave. The keyword there, of course, is try. I'm not about to make promises I can't keep when I'm surrounded by hot guys all the time!” She winked at me and grabbed her water.

Eventually, we managed to finish off the salad, and thirty minutes later, we decided to go for a long jog. I went upstairs and changed into a sports bra, running shorts, and a tank top. Pulling my hair back into a quick bun, I rushed back downstairs. Grace was already dressed and ready to go and was just busy tying her sneakers. We grabbed our sunglasses before heading out into the heat, ready to work up a good sweat.

I put in my headphones to block out any catcalls and followed her down the street. L.A. was crowded, as it always was. I both loved and hated living amongst all the people. Sometimes it was inspiring and energizing, but other times I found it downright draining, overwhelming, and exhausting. L.A. definitely hadn't been my first choice in living destinations.

I’d come out with Grace long ago when she landed her first job as an actress, but the difference between her and I was that I didn’t have to stay like she did. Nothing was holding me to this place. I could go anywhere I wanted, in theory at least. Why I hadn’t, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I’d just gotten comfortable staying in L.A. with my best friend, or maybe I was a little too scared of change. The thought of striking out on my own into unknown territory was more than a little intimidating.

I had also thought I could do more with my music by being in L.A., but, so far, everything I tried in that regard had proved fruitless. And what was more, passing all the billboards as we ran most days didn’t do much for my ego in that department. They were usually filled with new bands or singers being promoted because they’d managed to strike gold and get signed on with a label, unlike me. Their smiling success was a constant mockery of my constant failure. Today was no exception.

We came to an intersection, and the walk signal flashed, so Grace and I went to go. As we did, a horn blared, and Grace grabbed my arm, tugging me out of the way just quick enough to avoid both of us getting hit by some asshole in a convertible.

“Hey! We have the right of way, jerk wad!” I shouted after the car, tugging off my headphones. Both Grace and I frowned at each other, continuing across the street.

“Sometimes I really hate it out here,” she grumbled, breathing heavily as she jogged. “There really are so many entitled, arrogant assholes in this part of the country.”