Page 19 of Learn the Play
“The worst part is when they have the look, but their voice just doesn’t match it. It makes me feel bad to turn them down, but we only have so many days in a week for me to get talent on the stage.”
“You book talent for one of the hottest bars on the strip. You’re damn good at what you do. Don’t feel bad about having to say no. That’s just a part of it.”
“I know, but you should read some of the letters. They talk about struggles, like living in their cars, and that hits me in my feels.”
“I love your soft heart,” I tell her.
“Enough about me.” She places her now-empty plate on the coffee table and pours us both some wine into the coffee mugs.
“Why are we using coffee mugs?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. I guess it felt like wineglasses were too fancy for pizza and breadsticks on the couch.”
“I don’t care what I’m drinking it out of, as long as I’m drinking it.”
“About that, are you ready to share what’s been going on with you?”
“Whatever do you mean?” I ask, taking a hefty sip of my wine.
“Bellamy.” Her tone holds a warning, one that I take, because she’s my best friend, and I know I can trust her with this.
“The wedding was a pain in the ass, just as I thought it would be.” Might as well start with the stuff that I know she’s already assuming happened.
“I told you to tell her no. Just because you were sorority sisters in college does not mean you have to fly across the country to be bossed around to be in her wedding. And, you haven’t talked to her since you graduated from college.” She gives me a pointed look.
“I know.” I sigh. “You’re right. She was just as bad as I had imagined that she would be. As soon as all my bridesmaid duties were over, I dashed and hit the hotel bar.”
“Ah.” Amanda turns to face me, crossing her legs. “Now, this is where the story gets interesting. Please proceed.” She waves her hand in the air as if she’s royal, before taking a big chug of her wine.
“If me rushing out of the wedding like my ass was on fire, only to plop down at the oceanside bar and order a drink is interesting, then yeah, I guess so.”
“Girl, I see right through you. What was his name?”
I open my mouth to lie, and the truth comes out. “Reid. Don’t ask me for his last name because I don’t know. We didn’t exchange anything but first names. Hell, Reid might not even be his real name.”
“Did you give him your real name?”
“I did. He didn’t give off creeper vibes, and he was—I don’t know—easy to talk to, I guess.”
“How much time did the two of you spend talking?”
“All night. Well, most of it. We ended up taking a walk on the beach. We sat for a while and talked, and then ended up back at the bar, in the same seats we were in before we walked on the beach, and talked until the bartender announced the last call and kicked us out.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Bellamy!” she scolds.
“Fine. He was gorgeous, Manda. He has messy, dirty-blond hair, and he's not a surfer; he wasn’t from LA. He’s got lots of ink, his muscles have muscles, and his eyes are ocean blue, sometimes light, sometimes dark.”
“And how would you know that, hmm?” she asks.
“Well, I might have invited him back to my room after he refused to let me pay for my drinks.”
“You make it sound like the drinks are what sold you, when I know it was the ink and the muscles, and those eyes of his sound like a damn good bonus.” She smirks.
“It was the whole package. He was sweet and charming, and we talked about everything. Not just small talk like the weather, but it was deeper. I even told him about my dad.”
