Page 5 of Vendetta Vows

"There's nothing to spill. I was reading the script outside, the wind blew it away, and this guy helped me gather the pages."

"A 'guy'? That's the best description you can give me? I need height, build, hair color, eye color, estimated net worth?—"

"Stop." I laugh despite myself. "He was just..." How do I describe him? Gorgeous? Magnetic? Everything that I want but can't have? "Interesting."

"Interesting? That's all you can say?" Hannah repeats, her voice dripping with disbelief. "No wonder you haven't gotten laid in all seven years since I've known you."

"Seven years?" I parrot, feeling my cheeks flush even hotter. "It hasn't been?—"

"Six years, nine months, and approximately twelve days," Hannah cuts in, rolling her eyes. "You think I don't keep track of these things for you? Someone has to maintain your sex calendar since you clearly abandoned it."

Clutching the script pages to my chest like they might protect me from the lingering sensation of his touch, I glance nervously around the room, painfully aware of how many industry people are within earshot.

"Could you say that a little louder? I think the catering staff in the kitchen didn't quite hear you."

Hannah waves dismissively. "Please. Everyone here is too busy networking or trying to fuck somebody else to care about your dormant lady garden."

"My—" I stifle a horrified laugh. "Oh my God, Hannah."

"What? It's accurate." She leans closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So this mystery man... scale of one to ten?"

An image of golden eyes and broad shoulders flashes through my mind. "I don't rate people."

"Eleven. Got it." She nods sagely. "Did you at least get his name?"

The rhythm of Hannah's teasing grounds me, even as something deeper, something darker, whispers at the edges of my mind.

Remember what happens when you get close to someone.

"No," I admit, pushing the thought away. "But he said he'd see me again."

Hannah clutches her chest dramatically. "Aurora Castellanos, letting a man promise to see her again? Without running away screaming? This is progress!"

"It wasn't like that," I protest, but there's no conviction in my voice. "Besides, what does it matter? My lady garden is perfectly fine being dormant."

"Your lady garden is turning into a desert, sweetie," Hannah says, patting my arm sympathetically. "Pretty soon we'll need to call National Geographic to document the wildlife that's gone extinct there."

I can't help but laugh. "I'm just taking it slow."

"Girl, if you take it any slower," she says, "your next relationship will be with the poor archaeology student writing his thesis about the only woman in L.A. who never got laid."

"Look, it's not like I don't want to date. I'm just choosing not to right now."

"And I don't get that. I mean, look at you!" She gestures at me. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in literally all of Los Angeles, but somehow you never talk to any guys, you never go on any dates, and you don't even have a Hinge account!"

"Yeah, well, that's my choice, right?" I shrug half-heartedly. "Maybe none of them interest me."

"Bullshit!" Hannah claps her hands together emphatically. "I think you're just afraid of relationships."

Like you wouldn't believe.And just like that, I feel the familiar fear bubbling in my stomach and IswearI can smell blood again.

Look what you made me do.

"Look. This guy, whoever he is, is clearly hot," Hannah barrels on. "I'm not saying that you need to fall in love with him. God knows nobody does that in this town. But that doesn't mean you can't find him later, fuck his brains out, have some fun, and then go back to being happily single and uninterested."

"Anyways, I need to put this back." I tap the script in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Before some writer notices it's missing and has a meltdown. You know how they get."

"Oh for sure." Hannah nods knowingly. "Wouldn't want Vashti to rewrite the entire third act out of spite again."

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