Page 25 of #Awestruck

This was bad. Very, very bad.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Despite the fact that my boss had told me I didn’t have to come in to work, I chose to go in that Friday morning. Because I’d discovered that idleness didn’t really suit me. I liked being busy. And because I didn’t want to think too much about my dinner date with Evan later that evening.

Brenda did not help my cause when she pulled me into her office, giving me makeup and hair tips and suggesting that I take the afternoon off to go shopping for a dress. She even gave me her company American Express card. I felt a little guilty taking it, but I couldn’t really say no.

I told her about my surprise run-in with him, and the longer I talked, the more withdrawn Brenda became.

She cleared her throat, cutting me off midstory. “Look, I can see that you hate this guy, and I don’t blame you, but you need to get him on your side. Win his trust. And that’s not going to happen if you keep being openly hostile toward him.”

“I can’t just pretend like I forgive him.” I mean, I could, but then somebody in Hollywood would have to give me an award.

“You’d be surprised what you’re capable of when your career’s on the line.” Her implication was more than clear. “You know the saying: you can’t make an omelet without compromising some of your principles.”

After more lecturing about how I had to reel in Evan Dawson like he was a prize fish (largemouth bass seemed the best likeness in my wandering mind), she told me to go and get ready. I had, like, seven hours. I didn’t need that long, but I texted my younger sister to see if she wanted to go shopping. She immediately replied.

I was about to ask her if she had class or midterms but figured it wouldn’t matter even if she did. Rory always did whatever she wanted to do. I headed over to the elevators and pushed the down button.

“Where are you going?”

The sound of Rand’s voice startled me, and I put a hand against my fast-beating heart. “Brenda wants me to ... run some errands for her.” Technically it was a dress for me, but I was doing it at Brenda’s request. But if I told Rand the whole truth, I’d never live it down.

“Lucky girl. I hope you get your Dawson story. I’d hate to see Brenda’s reaction if you don’t come through. Especially if it all turns out to be true and there is no story.”

I already knew what her reaction would be, and I suspected it would end with my entrails thumbtacked onto the company bulletin board as a warning to all future interns.

“I’ll worry about my job, and you worry about yours,” I told him with a bravado I wasn’t really feeling. I excused myself when my elevator arrived. When I headed inside, I dismissed Rand’s trying to screw with my mind and instead thought about my last few encounters with Evan. He might have come across as a charming, arrogant, handsome jerk face, but nothing he’d said ever felt dishonest. I’d never once gotten the impression that he was lying to me.

I pushed the button for the lobby. Tonight would be the true test. I’d figure out what was really going on with him.

And hopefully keep my entrails on the inside of my body, where they belonged.

Rory and I ended up spending a lot more time shopping than we should have, and she offered to drive me home so I could get ready.

And by “drive,” I mean she sped through the roads like a crazed maniac who’d seen the Fast and the Furious franchise one too many times.

“You can slow down!” I told her. I liked to be on time as much as the next person, but Evan could wait. Safety first. I was sure he would understand.

“You still have to shower and get dressed and blow-dry your hair and put on some makeup. I don’t want you to be late!”

“And I don’t want to be a martyr for punctuality!”

She sneaked into a parking spot right in front of my building. She reached into the back seat and handed me my bags. “No more complaining. We’re here, and nobody died. Have fun tonight. Relax. Be nice. And give the guy a break, would ya?”

I’d like to give him a break. In three places. And why was every Bailey woman so determined for me to give Evan another chance?

To be honest, I was surprised my mother hadn’t weighed in yet. She reminded me of an app on my phone, in that she was always bugging me for updates on my life.

Because somebody had to have told her. Despite her constant assurance that she could keep a secret, Rory only kept secrets in circulation. My mom had to know. Her silence on the subject was disconcerting.

We waved goodbye, and Rory darted back out into traffic. I made my way upstairs to my condo and got ready as quickly as I could. I didn’t do a lot of fancy dates at upscale restaurants, so I wasn’t quite sure how to do my makeup. And I didn’t have time for somebody on YouTube to teach me.

Then I slipped on the little black dress that Rory had helped me pick out. It had been on sale, it fit me perfectly despite my height, and I could wear it both for the restaurant date and to Tinsley’s meeting the next afternoon. I put on a pair of black heels that I’d owned for a long time and had hardly ever worn as they made me taller than every guy I’d gone out with. I realized that tonight it wouldn’t be a problem.

About twenty minutes later, I was at Rodrigo’s, giving the hostess my name. She asked me to follow her and led me into a tiny private room. It had a view of a marina on the Willamette River. Although it was dark outside, the large floor-to-ceiling windows gave me a fantastic view of the city all lit up on the other side of the river. Boats decorated with lights came into the marina to dock for the night. There was an outdoor patio beyond the windows, and I imagined in the spring and summer it would be a wonderful place to have dinner.

There was a small table set for two, with plush armchair-like seats. A single candle burned in the middle of the table, making the room seem soft and romantic.

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