One Last Time(35)

Erica shrugs. “I have no idea why, but he likes you and felt like you were the right fit. I’m not going to lie, I’m over the moon. This is the break of a lifetime.”

Then it hits me . . . he thinks he’s going to get into my pants. If I get this big article that could get me out of blogging for a gossip site, I would be in his debt and fall in his bed.

“I can’t do it,” I say, unwilling to put myself in a position to fail.

Erica raises her brow. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Erica, you can’t tell me this isn’t a little bizarre.”

“Hollywood is off its rocker. They’re not like you and me. We live very normal lives and are not crazy like they are,” she says with a straight face.

She thinks she’s normal? I try not to laugh, but I fail. A giggle explodes from my lips, and I cover my mouth quickly. “Sorry, the imagery was funny.”

She’s the strangest bird I’ve ever met. People don’t meditate in the office just because or believe no shave November applies to women as well, but she does. If she’s normal, then the world is screwed.

“Hollywood in a rocker is funny,” she laughs.

Lord help the future.

“So, you’ll tell him he has to work with Pam or you?” I push hoping she’ll relent.

“Not a chance. You are officially on assignment, and the piece is due in a month. I want a really in-depth article. Something that blows people’s pants off.”

“Socks,” I correct.

“What? I don’t wear socks. Too constraining on your toes.”

I shake my head and close my eyes. There’s no hope with her. “I don’t feel comfortable with this idea. I don’t even know what to write.”

She shrugs. “Welcome to celebrity journalism. You take what he gives you and make it sound like more.”

I internally groan. Apparently, she isn’t going to budge. “Can you give me some idea of what you’re looking for?”

Erica stands and then places her hands on the ground with her ass in the air. “Just follow your gut. I need to finish here and then I’m on a flight to New York.”

“New York?”

She lifts her one leg and arm, stretching them toward the ceiling. “Yes, I’m meeting a friend for a protest.”

I’m not caught up on current events. My days consist of this, and my nights are homework and whatever awful show Aubrey puts on. In the back of my mind, I know that I’m going to regret asking her for any details, but Erica has piqued my interest.

“What are you protesting?”

She comes back to standing and smiles. “It’s a legit important issue for my generation.”

The way she says it clearly means I’m too old to understand. “Oh?”

“We’re protesting because they’re talking about making us pay a monthly fee for a social media app.”

I have no words. Literally—none.

“I don’t get it.” She huffs. “Why do they think it’s okay to charge us to use something that costs them nothing? It’s crazy. I feel like this is another way that proves we’re all just part of some experiment, you know?”

No, no I do not.

What she’s talking about is business, but I don’t point that out. Clearly, she wouldn’t agree.

Erica continues. “If they wanted us to pay for it, then they should charge up-front so we can decide to become addicted to the app. Now, to suddenly decide . . . it’s wrong.”

I nod and hum because I don’t trust myself to speak and not call her a crazy person.

She looks at the clock. “I’ll be back in a few days. I’d like to see notes next week. Noah said he’ll be waiting for your call.”

“Okay,” I say with disappointment. I really don’t want to be around Noah. I know exactly what he wants. Well, he’s in for a rude awakening. I’m a pro at avoiding sex—just ask Scott, it’s been cobwebs growing for years.



I pace around the living room, trying to prepare myself to ask Heather for Noah’s number. Of course, he didn’t give it to Erica. Instead, I have to call my best friend as if I’m in high school.

Fuck it.

“Hey!” Heather says as she answers.

“Hey.”

“What’s up?” she asks.

Oh, just calling because your boyfriend’s friend is trying to mess with my head—I think.

“Not much. What are you up to?”

“Just waiting for Eli to get back from the store,” she tells me as a bunch of pots bang in the background.

“Is Noah with Eli? I need to talk to him, and I was wondering if he was there?” A long pause stretches between us, and I look at the phone to see if the call dropped. “Heather?”

She clears her throat. “I’m here. Sorry, I thought you asked me something about Noah and since he mentioned you today as well . . . I’m just trying to put the pieces together. So, tell me, dear friend, did you do something naughty?”

It is nothing compared to what she did the first night she met Eli. I didn’t sleep with him, run off, and then pretend as if it never happened. Nope. I kissed him even though I told myself I wouldn’t and now am in denial about whether I feel a damn thing for him.