Hate the Player: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy(54)

All of a sudden, my assistant is a life coach. Only, instead of telling me to start doing yoga or drink protein shakes, she’s encouraging alcohol and sex.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

One of the women in Andrew’s little group throws her head back in a laugh and puts a hand to his chest like whatever he just said is the funniest thing she’s ever heard in her whole damn life.

Jesus, he’s not that funny, lady. I can’t not roll my eyes at it.

If I’m going to enjoy myself at this party, I’m going to have to do it somewhere I don’t have to stand around and witness this kind of superficial crap.



Me: Pretty sure living in the moment doesn’t necessarily include the debauchery you’re currently encouraging, but I’ll do my best.



Samantha: Glory Hallelujah!



Truthfully, I wish I could Freaky Friday this shit and switch places with her. I’d be more than happy to sit around on the couch in my cozy pajamas rather than walk around this party in stilettos that will most likely leave battle scars on my poor feet.

For the love of God, stop being such a cranky biotch and make the best of this situation.

I know Samantha is right. I should try to enjoy myself and relish a night out that doesn’t completely revolve around work obligations.

I should let loose and have some fun.

I glance down at the champagne glass that’s still clutched in my hand and don’t hesitate to lift it to my lips and down the whole damn thing in three gulps.

And then, I purposefully leave the living room area that’s occupied by Andrew Watson and his giggly harem and head out onto the terrace where an infinity pool is framed by a lux view of downtown LA.

I spot Tawny Rose on the other side of the pool, a cigarette perched in her hand and a purse that costs more money than most people make in a year hanging from her wrist.

Yet again, another place I don’t want to be.

When I see Johnny Johnston standing beside Serena Koontz in a small crowd of people I recognize from filming, I grab another glass of champagne from a server who’s passing by and head in that direction.

Johnny spots me instantly, a warm, friendly smile forming on his face. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

I grin. “I hear being fashionably late is all the rage these days.”

He laughs at that, and Serena reaches out to pull me into a tight hug.

“Birdie Harris!” she exclaims, her voice a little loose and tipsy. “I’m so glad you made it! And I should warn you, I’ve already had one too many cocktails.”

I giggle at that. “Looks like I have some catching up to do, then.”

“Girl, you need to finish that drink and grab another! Tonight, we are celebrating. We’ll worry about the hangovers tomorrow.”

Howie strides over and wraps a friendly arm around Serena’s shoulders. “I hope we’re all enjoying ourselves.”

“How, you’ve certainly outdone yourself,” Serena comments, and Howie grins down at her, nodding toward the cocktail in her hand.

“And it appears you’re also outdoing yourself.” He winks. “I’m digging it.”

“Well, since you’ve provided enough free booze for a small country, I figured I needed to do my part.”

“That’s very philanthropic of you.”

She lets out a loud, infectious laugh, and I can’t help but smile.

“I’m also glad to see you here, Birdie,” Howie says, turning his attention toward me. “I told Luca and Billie they needed to come, but you know how Luca is about parties and shit.”

I grin. “I think the only thing that got him off the hook tonight is because Billie has reached the point in her pregnancy where anything but sweatpants sounds miserable.”

“Unless she’s working,” Serena chimes in. “I tell ya, that girl’s work ethic is insane.”

Serena is the one who gave Billie her start. She hired her as a PA, and eventually, my sister more than proved that she deserved to be hired on as a producer in Serena’s company.

“Well, in less than three months, she’s going to have to slow way, way down.”

“Amen, sister,” Serena responds, even raising a slightly tipsy hand in the air. “I told her the earliest I’d let her come back to work was sixteen weeks after the baby was born.”

“Wait…” Johnny pauses and looks toward me. “Billie Harris is your sister?”

I nod. “Yep.”

“Wow. I bet your parents are proud.”

“Actually, our parents passed away when we were really young,” I say, and Johnny instantly cringes.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.” I shake my head. “But I do like to believe that our parents are still looking down on us and are happy with the women we’ve become.”

Tears start to fill Serena’s eyes. “Ah hell, that’s beautiful. And I’ve had too much alcohol to hear this conversation.”

A soft laugh escapes my lips, and I reach out to hug her with one arm. “No tears tonight,” I say, squeezing her tightly before letting go. “Just laughs and lots of booze.”

She raises her glass and clinks it with mine, then with Johnny’s, then Howie’s. “Cheers to that!”