Page 51 of Come to Me
"Sorry to disappoint you, but no. Ellen is a little off the rails with her partying and the loud type, but she's only been welcoming. And Nicholas, the actor who plays Stanley, keeps her in line for the most part. He's a great actor too. I've learned quite a bit. Between the two of them, I don't feel like an outsider at all."
"Uh huh." She tilts her head, watching me. "Is he hot?"
I laugh.
"Is that all you care about?"
"That's a yes."
I shrug, a little uncomfortable.
"He's not any hotter than Zack. Who also conveniently stayed in your house." I raise my brows at her.
Laurie stirs her coffee and takes a sip. "Damn. That really is good coffee. No wonder you were going allWhen Harry Met Sallyover it."
Of course, Laurie has to relate everything to some movie or TV show.
"Coward," I say mildly, shaking my head. She can dish it out but taking it is a different story. "How is everything back home?" I ask.
"Same old, same old. I had a few meetings, watched a ton of TV, went hiking a bunch all by myself." She fakes a pout. "Showed Zack around LA. He's one of those I'll never leave New York guys."
"I never heard about Zack before this visit."
"Don't worry. There's room in my heart for both of you."
She's trying too hard to keep it light.
I grin.
"So, you like him like him?" I push.
"No way." She folds her hands together like she's negotiating. "You can meet him tomorrow, actually. After I see your show."
Oh no.
"You shouldn't see it."
"Why don't you want your friends to celebrate your success?"
"If I was an accountant and I got a new job, you wouldn't come watch me work."
"I'm going to see it and you're going to be amazing," she says firmly.
I'm not going to get anywhere by pushing this.
"Okay."
One more reason to be nervous.
I finally take a look at my menu. It's huge. Two dozen different kinds of omelets with a dozen different sides. Then, there are pancakes and waffles and all sorts of other things that will put me into a guilt inducing carb coma.
What's wrong with oatmeal? Why the fuck does everyone object to me eating oatmeal?
I glance up from the menu to catch Laurie staring at me. The second our eyes meet, she looks away. At her menu. "Damn, they have more stuff than I remembered," she remarks, suddenly absorbed by the words.
Deep breath. Sarcasm does me no good here. It only convinces her I'm defensive.
So I nod and look back at the menu until I find something besides oatmeal. Something that doesn't suggest obsessive health, restriction, or indulgence.
