Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) (18 page)

“That’s just great.” Pulling my hair up, I wrapped it in a bun and then put on one of the brunette wigs. With bangs and a straight cut, I looked…weird.
I am way too pasty for brown,
I thought, removing the fake hair. “Hey, I need a final count for the Valentine’s mixer at the After Dark. I’ve got over fifty single guys on my list, so are you in or are you out?”

Paige shook her head. “I freakin’ wish I was in. I’ve got a wedding in Santa Barbara that day, which would be bad enough without the momzilla of the bride micromanaging my every move. Seriously, who gets married on Valentine’s Day? It’s so clichéd.”

“For a wedding planner, you’re the most jaded person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not jaded. I just think monogamy is boring.”

“Maybe you haven’t met the right person yet.”

She gave me a droll look. “Gee, that’s not something I hear every day at all, thanks. And pass.”

“Yeah, you’re right. One-upping Dawson is much more fun than spending time with someone you care about.”

“Ugh, you mean
Dick
,
” she spat. “And don’t say that name.” She tossed a hat back onto the pile. “All right, I’m leaving these with you. Try not to get busted.”
 

“Try not to hook up with the best man after the wedding,” I called after her, to which she responded with a finger before the door shut.
 

* * *

“OKAY, DON’T TAKE this the wrong way, but—” I said, and then a pillow flew at my head, cutting me off. “Hey!”

Ace laughed and looked unrepentant. “Whenever someone says that, an asshole comment follows after.”

“It wasn’t an asshole comment. I was just gonna say I never took you for a guy who’d like foreign indie flicks.”

Another pillow flew at my head.

“That’s not a bad thing,” I protested.

“Way to stereotype, Shayne. Care to throw another shrimp on the bahhhbie?”
 

I threw the pillow back at him. “Yeah, point taken. You know what’s stupid, though? We don’t even call prawns shrimp.”

“Where the hell were you when I needed you? I had to learn that the hard way when I went down under for a press tour. We went to this seafood joint, and I asked if they had any shrimp. I didn’t realize there was one whole side of the menu with nothing but the stuff. Prawns. Won’t ever forget it.”

I burst out laughing. “Ace?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever tell anyone else that story.”
 

A muttered curse had me laughing harder as I got to my feet to refill my glass with the to-go Double Dipper boozy shakes that I’d gotten on the way over, courtesy of Ryleigh’s cheeky ass. It was Friday, time for our weekly non-consummated sleepover, and we were on the second movie of the night, an Italian film called
Last of the Horsemen
.

“Another?” I asked.
 

“Nah, or I’ll be in the gym all day tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t make me feel fat at all when you say that.”

“You look great. Plus, you don’t have to see yourself on an IMAX screen in 3-D.”

“And thank God for that.”

After pouring another round, I peeked at my phone again. No messages since the last time I’d looked ten minutes ago.

“You waiting for a call?”

“Huh?” I said, glancing up.
 

Ace nodded at the cell in my hand. “You keep checking it.”

Yeah, I was
so
not telling him that I kept checking it for missed calls or texts from Nate. “No, no, I… Val calls at weird hours sometimes.” Shoving the phone in my pocket, I grabbed my drink and then settled back in on the couch. “This movie is really fucking strange, you know that? I’m not sure I understand anything that’s happening.”

“It’s an artistic interpretation of forbidden love.”

“Then what’s with the horses?”

“Horse number one is in love with horse number two.”
 

“Besides the obvious ‘how the hell did you know that’ question I’m dying to know, what’s the problem?”

“They’re competitors in the derby.”

“So?”

“And they’re gay.” He waggled his eyebrows.
 

I looked back at the TV and tried to see it, but nope. This shit was too far out, even for me. “Don’t you wanna watch the new Superman instead?”

“Nah, I lost out on that role.”

“Oh. Well, what is Superman anyway other than a bunch of spandex?”

“Agreed.”

I sipped my drink in silence and let my mind wander while he continued to be fascinated with the artsy-fartsy crap. The self-control it took not to look at my phone was tremendous.
 

When I’d told Nate I couldn’t hang out tonight, he’d mentioned he needed to get some work done on his final project, an assignment several months in the making.

Schoolwork. It’d been so long since that word was in my life that it was beyond strange to be dating someone who reported to class. But he’d be graduating from the film program in the spring and had already been offered a job at the production company he’d been interning at, so it wasn’t
that
big of a deal. And compared to most guys I’d interviewed in their early twenties, he had the maturity of someone much older.

Especially in bed…

“Shayne?”

Shaking myself out of my daydream, I said, “Yeah?”

“You asked earlier what my type was.” He nodded at the lanky man on screen with a head full of brown hair and a gorgeous smile.
 

“A case of opposites attracting, huh?”

“He reminds me of someone I cared about a long time ago.”

“So you’ve always known?”

“That I was gay? Yeah, that wasn’t ever a question. Hell, even my parents knew when I was a kid.”

“They were supportive?”

“Hell no. The only reason I’ve hidden who I am in the first place is because they refuse to acknowledge it. And now there are so many others weighing in on every decision I make, and at this point…I would just be letting so many people down, in a way.”

“That’s pretty fucking fucked up if you really think that way.” When Ace raised his brow, I held up my already half-gone shake. “Sorry, vodka said that.”
 

“No, you’re right.” He rubbed his face, and when he looked at me, his face had aged a decade. “I just don’t see how I can keep my career going the way it is if I were to show who I really am.”

“Things are changing, though. It’s not as shocking or rare for actors to come out anymore.” When he started to protest, I held up my hand. “Not that I don’t get your unique position because of the kind of work you do, but still. I think you’d be surprised at how many people would be accepting of it, or how many wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Maybe,” he said, rolling his water bottle between his big hands.
 

“Have you ever thought of maybe doing something not so mainstream? I mean, you’re obviously not hurting for money, and you seem to like this”—I motioned to the movie—“abstract, artistic sort of sh—stuff.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “Like anyone would hire me for that, Shayne. Get real. I’m aware it’s not my acting ability I get cast for.”

“Okay, that’s bull and you know it,” I said, scooting forward and giving him the wagging finger you got from your parents when you were five. “But what if you started small? I don’t know much about that sort of thing, but surely there are low-budget films you could get involved with that would show you take your craft seriously.”

“So now you’re a matchmaker slash life coach?” His full lips lifted on one side, and then he looked down to where he was rubbing his hands together in what seemed like a nervous gesture. “It’s not bad advice. My agent wouldn’t go for it, but… I’ll think on it. Thanks, Shayne.”

“No worries. I can also tell you the future for an additional fee.”

Chuckling, he nodded, and said, “Since we’re doing this whole ‘laying our souls bare’ thing, can I ask you something?”

“Is that what we were doing? I thought it was just you.”

“Nope.”

“Then shoot.”

“You don’t really like hiking, do you?”

I exhaled in relief. “Oh sweet Mary, mother of Joseph, I thought you’d never clue in.” When he laughed, I kept going. “I hate it. Mad hate. I mean, I know you’ve seen me trip over every single rock going up the hill. I’m not a worker-outer sort of person, but I was trying to love it, really I was.”

“You’re a trooper, you know that? In more ways than one, and I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know. So if I haven’t said thank you for doing this for me, I’d like to now.”

The sudden change in conversation from lighthearted to serious had me flushing under his praise. And feeling incredibly guilty at the soft buzz of a notification from my phone that was going off in my pocket.
 

“You’re welcome,” I said, looking away from him as I squirmed into the couch. “I’m definitely something.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Be My Valentine

AHH, VALENTINE’S DAY. The day of lovers and chocolate, of oversized teddy bears and proposals every two minutes while you’re trying to eat your overpriced dinner at a fancy-schmancy restaurant overlooking the ocean.
 

For me, though, Valentine’s Day was just another workday, albeit a huge one. Our annual lonely singles mixer—no, we didn’t actually call it that—was being hosted this year at Licked After Dark. Over fifty men and fifty women had signed up, and I had taken on the task of overseeing the event, since Val had decided to get smashed at the bar off ten-dollar Between the Sheets martinis an hour ago.
 

Yeah, no two-drink minimum here, which could serve for an interesting night.

I was handing out the last of the nametags with Jenna when Ryleigh sidled up to me and nodded at Val.
 

“Think we need to call her a cab?” she asked.
 

“You’d be hard-pressed to get her in one until she’s falling off that barstool. I’d say she has about three more to go before that happens. Her alcohol tolerance is through the roof.”

“As long as I’m not cleaning up puke. Nothing clears out a room faster, trust me.”

“Nah, she’d have to consume something more than vodka and a Tic Tac for that to happen.”

Jenna laughed beside me as she packed up the attendee list and spare nametags. “The only thing that woman eats is men and her employees.”
 

“Truth,” I said, nodding.

“You know, Jenna, you seem like a sane person, much like my Shayne here. Can I ask why you guys stay on the crazy train?”

Jenna looked over her shoulder to make sure Val was still throwing back her drink, and then said, “I’d never admit it to anyone else, but if there was another high-profile matchmaker in town, I’d leave in a hot second. As it is, though, no one can compete with Val. She probably beat them all back with a stick. Literally.”

Ryleigh’s lips quirked to the side as she gave me a knowing look. “Did you hear that, Shayne? Jenna is
dying
for someone to steal Val’s crown. Know anyone who could do that?”

“Not at the present time,” I said, refusing to take the bait.
 

“Well, she’s bound to get knocked off the throne, so until then…” Jenna said, gathering the box of supplies. “I’m gonna go put this in my trunk, since everyone’s here.”

“Thanks for helping out. Nicole claims to still be in traffic.”

“Of course she is,” Jenna muttered, and her following curse was lost as she went out the exit.

A huge smile took over Ryleigh’s face, and she tugged on my shirt. “Dude, if you started up your own business, I bet Jenna would totally go with you. It’s a sign.”

“We’re not doing this again, are we?”

“The only person who doubts you could do it is you.”

“For the five millionth time, woman. Startups require money.”

“Quinn would invest.”

“No.”

“Paige would invest.”

“Ryleigh—”

“Hell, so would I.”

“Friends and money don’t mix. They just don’t, and I love you guys too much to fuck up our friendship. Besides, you heard Jenna. Val would
literally
beat me with a stick. Or maybe the bat she keeps in her office.”

“I’m not scared of her. I bet she’s all talk.”

“Don’t you have drinks you need to be mixing?”
 

“Nope, I’m just here to support you and relieve the bartenders for breaks later. Hunter should be here soon, so we’ll be partaking in this faaaabulous event if you don’t mind.”

I picked up the basket of party masks for those who hadn’t brought their own and held it out to her. “Can’t be here without donning a disguise, so pick one.”

“I own the place.”

“You still have to wear one. Here, this one matches your dress. And one for Hunter.” I handed her a mask, which she grudgingly put on, and then I adjusted my own. I’d picked out an elaborate gold and black one with feathers coming out of the top, and it covered my entire face, except for my lips.
 

“How come yours is so cute?” Ryleigh pouted.

“Go to one of those costume shops on Hollywood Boulevard and you’ll find a bunch of expensive-looking ones for cheap.”

“Considering I don’t plan on going to any more singles mixers in the future, I’ll pass.”

“Damn right you’ll pass,” Hunter said as he wrapped his arms around Ryleigh’s waist and planted a kiss on her neck. He looked freshly showered, his longish brown hair still damp, and was rocking a pair of dark jeans and a simple white cotton t-shirt. When I saw the two of them together, it always reminded me of
Grease
, with Ryleigh in her cute fifties-style swing dresses, and Hunter looking like one of the T-Birds, bar the rolled-up jeans.
 

She’d turned into one half of those lovey-dovey couples she’d always complained about, but damn if they weren’t a cute pair.
 

“How’s it goin’, Shayne?”

“Best night of my life.”

“Your boss grabbed my ass on the way in. Classy broad. I’ve missed her.”

“I can’t blame her for that,” Ryleigh said, laughing. “If she starts stripping you naked,
then
we’ll talk.”

“Sorry, Hunter, I can’t be held responsible for where Val’s fingers go. She won’t be here much longer anyway.”