Page 30 of For Butter or Worse
Nina discreetly nudged a rogue bra under the couch with her big toe.
Sophie spooned in a big mouthful of cake. “Are you asking or requesting?”
“Both, I guess.”
“I don’t know.” Sophie shrugged. “We’re both busy? Life? Stuff?”
Nina gave a wry smile back. “Too busy taking care of Rain Boots?”
“My pet goldfish is not to be mocked.” Sophie pointed her fork at Nina.
“It is when you’ve had the same one for eight years. You’re a record holder.”
Sophie put down her plate. “The longest goldfish lifespan on record is forty-three years. I plan to beat that.”
“I have no doubt you will.” Nina hit Play on the TV, and the opening credits began. “Sophie?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Okay.” Sophie swiped her finger into Nina’s frosting. “I’m not used to you being sappy. You’re freaking me out.”
Sophie took Nina’s plate of cake and scooted over to the opposite end of the sofa.
“It’s freaking me out, too,” Nina said.
13
LEO
“I’m not going to puke, I promise.” Leo looked over at his driver, Ashley. He had adriver. And that driver glared back at him.
“You better not, because I’m one of those people who can’t handle someone else barfing. Like, I end up vomiting, too. Just the thought of it...” Ashley cupped a hand to her mouth and gagged. “Oh, shit. Seriously, donotdo the thing you keep talking about not doing.”
The network hadn’t splurged on car service for Leo, ever—even to LAX, when he needed to hop on flights to promote the show across the country. But Nina’s publicist clearly wanted them to have a good and safe night, hence the built-in designated driver.
He thought they’d arrive together, but as Tom had said, “We want glamour. Mystery. Romance. Fantasy.”As a final touch, he’d added, “We don’t want Ralph from Uber.”
So Leo, prone to being carsick, sat up front and watched as the iconic Sunset Grande came into view. Set deep into the Hollywood people thought of when they pictured Los Angeles, the hotel and restaurant was right off Sunset Boulevard. The looming, castle-like exterior, complete with turrets and towers, was impossible to miss. Like the pumpkin patch, famous people were known to frequent it, and paparazzi loved to wait nearby.
Ashley pulled up to a valet stand, handed Leo her card and said, “Just text when you’re ready.”
So he put the card in his pocket and got out.
He was going to meet an important chef, and he wanted to make the best possible impression. It was a lot of pressure. The chances of him having a full-blown panic attack felt slim—he’d gone to the baseball game to distract himself from fixating, and none of the usual warning signs had popped up. But now that he was in front of the Sunset Grande, a ball of nervous energy hit him. His foot manically tapped the literal red carpet that led from the curb to the inside.
Nina hadn’t arrived, but the paparazzi had—two men with long-lens cameras stood across the street, their shots trained on him. He tried to channel his best I-don’t-see-you-and-am-casually-handsome look. Though, judging by the concerned glance the valet attendant gave him, he probably appeared more nauseous from the car ride than anything.
His stomach knotted as a town car, identical to the one he’d arrived in, pulled up to the curb.
Leo straightened, trying not to look at the car too intently. And besides, he couldn’t see through the tinted windows. But he wondered...was she watching him?
The driver got out and opened the back door.
He saw her legs first. Ankle boots met her bare calves, and the tops of her knees were hidden under a maroon, long-sleeved body-con dress. His gaze momentarily flitted to her breasts, which were pushed up and toward him. He was only human, after all, and they were really amazing breasts. He was used to seeing her in conservative wardrobe choices for the show, or the casual-date look she’d had at the pumpkin patch and ice-cream shop. In this fitted, sleek dress that showed off every one of her curves, though, she looked...
This is work. She is your coworker.
