Page 47 of Hot Mess

“Yes,” he chuckled. “People are going to talk to you.”

“I don’t know about this, Nick. What am I going to say?”

“What do you say when you have a conversation with a person.”

“But what if they ask how we met?” My voice was pitching higher the more I thought about it.

“You tell them how we met, at a Halloween party. You don’t have to go into any detail you don’t want. I won’t embarrass you, that’s between us, and never to be spoken of.”

If only that were the truth. It was between us, and whoever had taken those photographs.

I blew out a long breath. Resting my head back against the seat I tried to be in the moment for a second. I was in California, the weather was amazing, and Nick was driving. I let go of everything and just breathed in the smell of car exhaust.

I sat up with a coughing fit.

“You, okay?”

“I’m fine. I tried to breathe in.”

“Traffic air, not exactly the cleanest,” Nick laughed at me.

“Definitely not,” I laughed too.

When we arrived, I made a note to talk to Nick about his definition of small, and low key.

A valet took his car, which automatically elevated it out of ‘low key’ in my definition. I probably needed to learn a whole new set of definitions for terms being around Nick.

Even though Nick said I was dressed fine, I was keenly aware that the hostess’s jeans and Christmas sweater were designer. My entire outfit, including the shoes, and my bra probably cost less than just her jeans. I was wearing one of my good push-up bras that cost me a small fortune. Fortune was relative, and I was fairly certain that everyone else at this party wouldn’t blink twice at the cost of my underwear, while I had calculated exactly how many hours, I needed to work to pay for it.

“Judy, I’d like you to meet Kayla,” Nick introduced us.

Judy shook my hand and led us deeper into the house. It was stunning in a way; I had no idea houses could be that grand. Nick tapped his finger under my chin, pushing my mouth closed.

I grimaced at him. He winked at me.

He draped his arm over my shoulder and leaned in close. “Relax, these people don’t bite. This isn’t that kind of party.”

I gasped, caught more off guard than affronted at what he was hinting at. I lived a sheltered life. But with a friend like Amber, I knew things I didn’t want to, or need to. That kind of party, I didn’t want to know that Nick did stuff like that. It freaked me out.

“I’m joking. You should see the look on your face,” he chuckled in my ear.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m nervous.”

“Kayla, these are normal people, chill.”

“Nick, normal people… is that a suit of armor? Normal people do not have full suits of armor in their living rooms. Rooms. They have more than one living room without a TV here. Normal people have one, singular, living room, and maybe a TV room. This isn’t normal. Give a minute.”

I didn’t get a minute. The next room we followed Judy into was some kind of casual great room. There was a television. It was big. There was also a full wet bar, and a long buffet table covered in charcuterie, all the finger foods a person could want.

I stuck close to Nick. He shrugged out of his leather coat and handed it to someone. It took me a while to realize this party had a staff maintaining the food table and running the bar. Normal Christmas parties— I needed to stop thinking that way. Normal for these people and normal for me were two different socioeconomic levels. There wasn’t a single potluck-looking mismatched corning ware casserole on the table, and no whipped fluff and marshmallow concoction called a salad or ambrosia.

“Are you doing okay?” Nick asked me after a few encounters with different people. I was introduced, but I forgot most names as soon as I learned them. Not my best reaction, but I was stressed.

“I’m a little hungry. I’ve been eyeing the spread, and—”

“Of course, you don’t need my permission to eat Kayla.”

I glanced around the party, purposefully looking at women’s hips. I needed to stop comparing this world with where I had come from. There were no comfortable middle-aged mom butts in the place. The men ranged from svelte and super fit to standard middle-aged paunch. But men weren’t judged as much as women.

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