Page 17 of Death is My BFF

“Call or come by the office Monday morning. If you don’t want the job, we’ll figure something else out to make it up to you.” Devin stuck out his hand, and I clasped it in a daze. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

“Same here . . . ”

He turned his beautiful face to the side. “Meghan.” Like a trained dog, the supermodel left my best friend and hurried in the direction of the red Lamborghini. Devin Star retreated to his car. I peered down at my hand and realized he’d slipped his business card into my palm.

“Wait!” I called out, and he turned around. “Smile!” Like a professional photographer, I shot rapid photos of him by himself, a selfie with him beside me, photos of his car and license plate, and then another with both our cars in the frame, for evidence. “Evidence. In case you screw me over. Ya know?”

His eyes crinkled from a broad grin. “Completely understand.”

“What are you doing picking up David in the suburbs anyway?

Don’t you live in the city?”

“To think I got the impression you weren’t a fan.”

“I’m not. My mom is.”

He laughed, a pleasant sound. “Since you’re so inquisitive, me and my lady friend were at a wedding today in Albany and she lives by here. Figured I’d drop her off and scoop David up before he calls a driver home. It was great meeting you, Faith. Think about that job offer.”

Devin ducked into his vehicle and shut the door. As his Lambo took off in a roar, my eyebrows scrunched together.What justhappened?

Scrolling through my phone with frozen, shaking fingers, I tracked a nearby Uber. I stuffed the business card into my bra and took a few more pictures of my car, before I walked back to Marcy.

She sat in the grass on the side of the road, wrapped in the blanket I thankfully kept in my trunk. I stood next to her, embracing the cold.

“I can’t believe that wasDevin Star,” Marcy groaned. “Any other night I would have asked him to sign my boobs. So sexy.” She giggled. “I own all of his modeling calendars.”

“Yes, I know.” Softer, I added, “So does my mom.”

“Now what?” she asked, her voice reduced to a whisper. “I’m going to have such a bad hangover tomorrow.” Her bloodshot eyes widened as she exclaimed, “Oh, God, wait! Did you call the police?

My dad will flip—”

“I’m not calling the police. Mr. Star is handling the car, I hope.

I called an Uber to pick us up.” I peered into the dark woods behind us and hugged my body tighter. “I hope that deer is alive, so I can come back tomorrow and shoot it.”

“Faith!”

“Kidding.” I stifled a dark laugh. “My parents are going to kill me because of that stupid deer.”

We were quiet for a long stretch of time. I wanted to tell Marcy what happened at the party, but she was too smashed to comprehend.

Even sober, the story was so outrageous, I struggled to comprehend it myself.

Marcy had paled significantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know this is going to sound crazy, since I’m totally shitfaced . . . ”

She let out a shaky breath. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t . . .

I don’t think we hit a deer. I could have sworn it was a person.”

“Don’t be silly, it was a deer. What would a person be doing way out here in the woods?”

She wiped at a stray tear. “You’re right. It couldn’t have been a person.”

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