Page 112 of Stolen Voices
I spit my water across the countertop, choking on the liquid now burning my lungs.
What the fuck?
Rylann rushes over and pats my back. “Look what you did, Scar. You broke her.”
“I didn’t break her. She’s fine. She’s just been around too many uptight Hollywood people, is all. She’ll survive,” Scarlett snipes.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Emery wipes the counter with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Scar takes some getting used to. She has no filter.”
“That’s no way to talk about your business partner,” Scarlett scolds Emery.
“Sorry, boss bitch,” Emery sings as Rylann chuckles at the two.
My head swivels between them as they go back and forth, with Rylann cutting in occasionally, joking and making drinks. A strange sensation fills my chest as these women treat me like I’ve always been a part of their group. With Silla always hovering and controlling me, I’ve never had friends before.
I like it.
Rylann places glasses on the counter, Emery fills them, and Scarlett spikes hers with a mini bottle of tequila.
She shakes the bottle at me. “Are you sure?”
“Another time?” I offer, hoping I will still be around.
“I’ll hold you to that, missy.” She places the bottle on the counter and sips her drink with an approving hum.
“Let’s go sit in the living room. My back is killing me.” Rylann picks up her glass and waddles to the couch.
The three of us follow her, taking spots around her like she’s the sun and we’re planets orbiting around her.
Taking a sip of my drink—that I don’t hate—I quietly sit and listen to the three most beautiful women I’ve ever seen talk about work and their kids. I learn Scarlett has two sets of twins, and Emery is pregnant like Rylann, hence the virgin margaritas.
This must be what a girls’ night is like. Friends talking, gossiping, laughing. It seems strange and humbling to sit here with these women. At this moment, I’m just Callie. Not a celebrity.
I could get used to nights like these. Surrounded by friends talking about their lives while I listen and laugh along with them.
“Mind if I ask what’s going on between you and Eli?” Rylann asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Me and Eli?” I squeak, noticing that the room is dead quiet. “Umm. What about us?” My palms turn clammy, and my skin itches as the three of them stare at me and wait for an answer.
When the silence stretches a little too long, they turn to each other and have a silent conversation with their eyes. It’s spooky and oddly adorable.
“Are you … together?” Rylann asks, her eyes hopeful.
“Together, fucking. Whatever you want to call it,” Scarlett retorts.
Damn, Emery was right. Scarlett really has no filter.
I can feel my face getting hotter as I sit here, wondering what I should and shouldn’t say. Fuck it. “No.”
“No?” The sadness in Rylann’s is catching, sinking my hopes as well. “But when we saw you guys, he was acting jealous and overprotective. Only a man in love does that.”
“A Miller man does that,” Emery corrects her.
“And Walker men,” Scarlett interjects.
“Eli is not in love with me,” I rush out too quickly, making them all smirk. “Seriously. I’ve known him for the last two years, and before the last few weeks, he’s been nothing but a huge asshat to me.”
