Page 98 of Howl for Me
Her jaw drops. “Wait. Staying with him? Like, in his house?”
I nod, and she gasps like I just told her I joined a cult.
“Oh my god, Cassidy. That’s huge. You’re like… embedded. Hector does not do that unless it’s someone important. But it makes sense. Johnny’s top talent. I mean, the guy is legendary. The bad kind and the good kind.”
She sips her coffee with a smirk. “I personally haven’t worked with him, but I know women who have. And from what I hear… the sex is definitely good enough to look past the whole moody werewolf thing.”
I stare at her over the rim of my cup.
“Lori.”
“What? I’m just saying. If he ever wants a scene partner with a high pain tolerance and low standards, I’m available.”
“You can’t work with him.” I spit out like some love-struck teenager and instantly regret it when she smiles big.
“I knew it! You do like him! Hey, as long as he doesn’t hurt you, then I won’t hurt him. Simple.” I can’t help but smile. I'm grateful for her friendship and that she would feel the need to protect me.
“I’ve got that event tomorrow,” I say, changing the subject. “I need something to wear. I was going to go shopping today anyway… want to come?”
Lori practically jumps off the couch. “Do I want to come? Cassidy, yes. Let’s find you something that’ll make even Johnny fuckin Howler crawl at your feet.”
An hour later, we’re tucked inside a boutique that smells faintly of incense and lemon oil. Everything is saturated in color, rust orange, deep plum, burnt gold. It’s beautiful… and overwhelming.
“I’m dying out here,” Lori calls from outside the fitting room. “Come out already!”
“I’m thinking,” I mutter, staring at myself in the mirror.
The dress is... short. Rust red with long sleeves and a wrap tie at the waist. The neckline dips a little lower than I’m used to, and the hem flirts with the top of my thighs. I shift my weight. My legs have always been thick. Thicker than the girls I grew up around. Thicker than most of the women I see working at the studio. There’s a part of me that has always been insecure about them. I open the curtain anyway.
Lori’s mouth falls open. “Oh, my god.”
My hands go to the sides of the dress instinctively, trying to smooth it down.
She shakes her head like I’ve offended her. “Cassidy. You look stunning. That body is doing everything right in that dress.”
I laugh under my breath. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
She gives me a look. “Too much for what? A funeral? Maybe. But for a studio party in L.A. Babe, you’re gonna make hearts stop.”
I glance at myself in the mirror again. The dress does fit nicely. The color makes my skin look warmer. It hugs my waist in a way that almost makes me forget the things I don’t like about myself. Almost.
“You really think it’s okay?” I ask, quieter.
Lori softens. “Cass. It’s more than okay. You look beautiful. And that man you’re definitely not falling for?” She smirks. “He’s gonna fall off the planet when he sees you in this.”
I exhale a laugh. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not,” she says, not believing me for a second. “Now hurry up and buy it so we can find you shoes before my legs give out. I’m starving!”
As we make our way to the counter, a tall man with soft curls and a pressed cream shirt tucked into high-waisted trousers looks up from a small stack of folded scarves. There’s a glint in his eye when he sees the dress draped over my arm.
He lets out a low whistle, setting the scarves aside. “Well, now. Someone’s about to cause trouble.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”
“That red? On you? Girl, those men are going to be breaking their necks.” He says as he rings me up.
“Really, I wasn’t sure about the color.” I feel my cheeks warm.
