Page 54 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Even if, and that’s a massive, universe-sized if, there was something there, what could I possibly offer someone like Daisy Fields?” Chad’s voice had lost its defensive edge, replaced by something more vulnerable. “She’s got her whole life mapped out. Probably has a ten-year plan with color-coded tabs and quarterly goals.”
“And you take life one wave at a time,” Rhino acknowledged. “But maybe that’s exactly what she needs, someone to help her live in the moment a little.”
“Or someone to drive her completely insane within a week,” Chad countered.
“Probably both,” Rhino agreed. “But that’s the fun part.”
As they passed a newsstand getting ready to close for the night, Rhino stopped for a bottle of water. While he paid for it, Chad browsed through the magazine rack, his eyes skimming across covers until they stopped on a tabloid. The cover, taken through a paparazzi’s telephoto lens, showed a stunning blond sunning herself in a bikini on the deck of a yacht. A man lay on the lounge chair beside her.
Chad groaned as he read the tabloid’s headline:
‘Jason Manning and Ashley Thompson Spotted Off Catalina Island.’
“Damn. Is that Ash?” Rhino said, stepping up beside Chad.
“Yup,” Chad grumbled.
“How come she never wore that bikini around the house when you guys were dating?”
Chad shot him a frown. “Not helping.”
Rhino looked at him. “I thought you were over her.”
“Over and done,” Chad said, and he meant it. “I just don’t need it thrown in my face.”
Rhino clapped a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “You know what, bro? There’s a bright side to this.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s just gonna dump that guy too as soon as someone richer comes along.”
Chad snorted. “If that’s your pep talk, I want a refund.”
Rhino chuckled. “Okay, here’s a better one, and I’ll use blond gold-digger as a cautionary tale, because she was all about things that don’t matter. Find a chick who still smiles at you duringyour worst hangover, and you still smile at when she looks like death warmed over, and that chick’s a keeper. The rest of it’s just decoration.”
Chapter thirteen
Happy Hours and Secret Stashes
“... and then the beer shot out her nose,” Chloe said with animated flourish, as she, Daisy, and Ava sat for happy hour at a Century City wine bar. With the exception of Chloe’s hair, which she’d dyed green that week, the bar screamed elegance. From the crystal chandeliers, casting warm light over the dark wood paneling, to the jazz band playing softly in the corner, it was the mirror opposite of Chad’s hangouts. It was the kind of place Ethan would approve of, which made Chloe’s dramatic retelling of Daisy’s ‘incident’ at the sports bar even more entertaining. “It was awesome!”
Daisy face-palmed her forehead. “It was not awesome.”
“Oh, it totally was,” Chloe said. “Like one big beer fountain of joy.”
Ava nearly dropped her wine glass. “You actually did this in public?”
Chloe beamed. “She did. And the whole bar cheered. They wanted an encore.”
“What kind of bar was this?”
“It was a bar at the beach,” Daisy said. “We met Chad and his friends there on Saturday.”
“Chad? Have I met this person?”
“I’ve mentioned him to you before. He’s my writing partner. He’s helping me with the ‘guy’ parts of my novel.”
“At a dive bar?”
