Page 37 of Love JD

I inhaled slowly, trying to draw on dwindling reserves of patience. “She’s here because of my stupidity. Don’t insinuate things because you’re jealous.”

“Alright, cranky bear,” she said, spreading her hands out before her. “I’ll backtrack.” She pasted a bubbly smile on her face. “Hi. How are you? It’s been forever.”

I rolled my eyes, and the kettle whistled behind me. As I pulled it off, I said, “I’m busy.”

“Well, I can’t complain about that, seeing as you’re working with me.” It occurred to me then that I really ought to tell Starla about GreenTech’s irresponsible habits. She’d likely tell her client, Earth Care, to pull the plug on our merger, but it felt so smarmy not saying anything. Even for a lawyer, it was pretty low. But I wasn’t getting into that this late without proof to back up my claims. I’d have to pull her aside tomorrow.

Starla spun the mug on the butcher block island surface. “Although, being busy never stopped you from coming to my parties before.”

I took the mug from her hands, poured boiling water in it, and set it aside for Isla. “I told you a while ago that I’m focusing on my career.”

“Right,” she droned with a look that told me she didn’t believe me one bit. “And your pretty little pretend girlfriend has nothing to do with that?”

I met Starla’s gaze finally, leaning a hand on the counter. “What do you want me to say, Starla?”

“How about, ‘Hi, Starla, nice to see you. I know we saw each other at work, but let’s catch a drink.’” She paused with a mischievous twinkle in her royal blue eyes. “‘Fuck me, Starla.'”

The last time I had seen Starla, three days before, we had gone over the merger for GreenTech, and I’d been so lost in thought about Isla, I’d barely said five words to her. Which, I realized, had been unfair of me. I liked Starla. I had enjoyed dating her even if we hadn’t been compatible in the end. I enjoyed being her friend even more. But I didn’t enjoy someone coming into my house and making my guest feel uncomfortable.

My inner voice snorted at the word, “guest.” I shoved it away and reached into the drawer of the island and pulled out a sugar packet. “I’m sorry if I’m not as welcoming as you expected, but I do have a guest over. And this isn’t your house.”

She arched a brow again. “You didn’t use to mind. Why does it get your hackles up now?”

I honestly didn’t know. “Isla’s here because the paparazzi figured out that she has dysautonomia and sometimes faints when she’s scared. They’re hounding her.”

Starla’s face fell into sympathy. “Oh.”

“I’m just trying to keep her safe. And make her feel comfortable.” I sprinkled sugar in Isla’s tea, and after a moment of hesitation, figured she would probably go for two packets, so I fished out another one. “That’s hard to do when you waltz in here and catch her hanging out in her towel.”

“I didn’t take you for a babysitter,” Starla smirked.

“I’m a friend,” I replied pointedly.

“Well, either way,” Starla said, standing and holding up a placating hand. “Sorry to barge in. I didn’t know surly Zev would be at home.”

I gave her a glare that probably only emphasized her point. “We’re meeting tomorrow anyway, so I can talk to you then.”

“Sure,” she replied mildly, her eyes bouncing up and down the length of me. “You sure those rumors are false? You don’t have to lie to me.”

Exasperated, I picked up the mug of tea and growled out a sigh. “Starla. She’s eight years younger than me and just finished her junior year of college. She’s too young for me to date. Happy?”

“Yep,” she said with a toothy grin. She picked up her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She waved as she sashayed out of my kitchen, her plum-colored pumps clicking loudly on my polished floors until she went out the front door.

I looked down at the tea I’d made Isla and wondered how my luck was so abysmal. That had not been the direction I’d hoped this night would go. I mean, I wasn’t sure where it would go, but that definitely wasn’t it.

I looked up and found Isla leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, one arm crossed across her body and grasping her elbow. She had a silent look of resignation on her face.

She’d heard that last part I’d said to Starla, then. Goddamn it. Then again, maybe it was for the best. Isla was soft and sweet and oh so tempting, but I knew better. She could do a lot better than me and all the broken parts hinging off my past. I held out the mug to her. “Sorry about that.”

Isla had changed into a big T-shirt with a faded alien giving a peace sign on the front, and her sweatpants practically fell off her hips, they were so big. She shuffled forward with a small smile and took the mug. “Sorry I ran off. I’m not used to—I mean I was in a towel.”

I grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I did tell her off for that. She should have called.”

Isla shrugged. “This is your home. I don’t want your f-friends to feel uncomfortable.”

The way she stumbled over the word “friends” made me want to overexplain myself and assure her it wasn’t what she thought. Except that I was pretty sure she had a good read on the situation. “She’s my ex,” I explained, trying to bypass some of her discomfort. “But we work together and go to the same events occasionally. I’ve been ignoring her texts, so I guess she decided to drop in on me.”

Isla nodded, sipping the tea. Her eyes lit up. “Mm. This is good.”

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