Page 45 of One Life to Loathe

My nap didn’t do a lot for my mood. I was a growly bear even after I showered and dressed in fresh clothes. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered me—I didn’t need to make friends with people to be happy—but Sam’s constant glare was starting to get to me.

She hadn’t smiled at me in five days, six hours, and twenty-seven minutes.

Yes, I remembered her exact last smile. It was like being graced by the Goddess they kept talking about in the show it was so bright. The longer I went without seeing that smile, the surlier I got.

I was clearly having some sort of mental breakdown. The whispers had finally gotten to me. I was broken. I was the Titanic and there was no stopping me from going down. Did I mention I was feeling dramatic? I was like one of those Facebook dramavores who put all their personal business out for other people to fawn over.

I should’ve spent the night getting myself mentally prepared for the next day of filming. Instead, I headed downstairs to seewhat everybody else was doing. No, I was not specifically looking for Sam.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself. Whenever I told myself that, though, my inner voice called me a filthy liar. I’d taken to ignoring that guy.

“What’s with that face?” Jax asked when I meandered into the bar. I wasn’t really expecting Sam to be there. I was hopeful, though. And wasn’t that a kick in the pants? Why did I want to see Sam so badly?

Because you want to see her smile.

I pretended the voice wasn’t getting louder and focused on Jax. “I just woke up from a nap,” I said as I sank down in one of the chairs across from him. We’d actually spent a decent amount of time together in the hotel gym this week and gotten to know one another. I liked him. A lot. He wasn’t the one who I was thinking about now, though.

“Uh-huh.” Jax cocked his head. “You’re morose. Has anybody ever told you that?”

Was he joking? “I’ve been called a lot of things. Morose is definitely one of them.”

“Have you ever tried not being morose?”

“No. Hollywood likes a brooder. It’s one of the few things I have going for me right now.”

“Well,thatwas pathetic,” he said on a laugh when I let loose the most theatrical sigh in my repertoire. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Your mood.”

“I don’t have a mood. I’m just tired. I was out until three o’clock last night because someone kept flubbing her lines.” I scowled at the memory.

“Yeah, that’s not why you’re in a mood.” Jax closed the binder he’d been looking at and handed it to the individualbehind the bar. It wasn’t Levi for a change. “Come on,” he said when I just stared at him.

“Come on where?”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Where are you going? More pickle martinis?” Honestly, they’d been better than I expected. They weren’t something I wanted to drink every night, but they were pretty darned good. I especially liked the way Daisy and Sam had gone giddy for them. They asked for an extra plate of the pickles just to snack on they were so excited.

The mere thought of watching Sam eat pickles again was all I could think about now that the idea was front and center. That’s why, when Jax started shaking his head, my stomach bottomed out and disappointment took over.

“No?” I tried to pretend I wasn’t deflating in real time.

“We’re going someplace else.” Jax’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “In fact, we’re going to be late.”

“Were you waiting for me or something?”

“I figured you might want to come.” He smiled and then made a “get a move on” motion with his hand. “Come on. We have a ten-minute walk in front of us.”

Well, that was less exciting. “I don’t want to walk.” I was a grumpy Gus as I followed him.

“It’s not that far,” he assured me. “And, trust me, you’ll enjoy the place I’m taking you. You might make a face at first—I know I did—but it’s one of my favorite places now.”

He had my full attention. “Strip club? Please tell me all the strippers wear witch hats … and nothing else.”

He made a face as we walked into the lobby. “Do I look like the sort of guy who goes to strip clubs?”

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