Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
"What in the hell is going on?" I mumble to myself, almost afraid to find the answer to that question. Except…I'm pretty sure I have to find it. Something is seriously off, and I need to know what. I don't think I have a choice.
"Have you talked to Todd lately?" I ask over dinner, striving to remain calm and collected, though the longer I think about that folder, the more uneasy I become. Sure, we all have pictures of our friends. But most people don't keep hundreds of them in a folder on their desktop. And most people don't have pictures said friend doesn't even remember. That's weird, and I don't think I'm overreacting. I don't want to assume the worst, either. She's my best friend and has been for years.
There has to be a rational explanation…right?
I'm not sure.
"Ugh," she groans, dragging a nacho through a pile of guacamole on her plate. "I haven't spoken to him at all since I dumped him."
"Oh." I toy with my straw, circling it around and around in my glass. "How long were you two dating? I can't remember."
"I don't know. Eight or nine months, I guess."
"Right after we went to L.A. last summer," I murmur.
"Yeah. He was a big waste of time."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugs. "It is what it is."
"You met him at a convention, didn't you?"
She gives me an odd look, one brow cocked. "In Vegas. I told you, remember?"
"That's right. Is he an agent also?"
"What's up with all the questions about Todd?"
"Just curious," I say, giving her a calm smile. Inside, I'm anything but cool and collected. My instincts keep nagging at me, and they're telling me there's a whole lot more to that folder than I want to believe. "We haven't had a chance to talk about your breakup like we were supposed to do before…well, before everything. I feel bad."
"Well, don't. We were bound to break up eventually. I'm not you, Ivy."
My eyes widen at her tone. "What do you mean?"
"Look at you." She waves a hand in my direction. "You're gorgeous. Guys throw themselves at you."
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is. You knew Cam for all of five minutes before he fell in love with you. It's not like that for me."
I blink, taken aback at the hint of bitterness in her tone.
She continues before I can say anything. "You don't have to try as hard as the rest of us to land a good guy. They fall all over themselves trying to get to you. The only ones who fall for me are losers. You're lucky."
"I was just charged with manslaughter," I say, anger rolling through me. "I may spend the next twenty years of my life in prison. I had to leave the one guy I've ever been in love with. I barely make enough to live in this city. My family is dead. I don't think any of that qualifies me as lucky."
"I didn't mean in that way." She rolls her eyes like I'm being overly sensitive.
"How did you mean it?" I ask, not sure how else she expected me to take it. Guys may look at me, but they sure as hell don't know me, and most of them don't care to. They want to fuck me just to say they did, especially when they find out I used to model. Cam wasn't like that. He actually saw me when he looked at me. And now that's over. The one guy I want…I can't have.
"I don't know," she says, holding her hands up in surrender. "Ignore me. I guess seeing you mope around has me feeling sorry for myself, too. I'm sorry. I just don't really want to talk about Todd tonight, okay? Let's just eat and enjoy the fact that we're not smelly old cat ladies yet."
"Fine by me," I lie, spearing a piece of chicken with my fork and popping it into my mouth for emphasis. I'm honestly a little pissed. Dots are beginning to connect, and I don't like the image of her being drawn. It's not one I've seen before, and I don't like where it leads.
"Are you excited about the convention?" I ask a few minutes later, trying to dispel the tense silence between us as we gorge ourselves on Mexican food.
"Yes," she says, instantly perking up. "Tia Kaplan will be there. She's a fucking goddess, and she's making her current agent millions. I'm going to land that woman one of these days. How cool would that be? Maria would promote me in a heartbeat."
"What time is your flight in the morning?"
"I have to be at the airport at the ass crack of dawn," she groans.
"Who else is going?"
"Maria is sending Sam so I can show him the ropes." She wriggles her brows suggestively. "Maybe I'll get lucky and get to see two hot guys going at it midflight. That'd be awesome. What are you planning to do? And if you even mention those damn yoga pants, I'm staging an intervention."