Page 43 of Paint the Town, Dove
“Take that back.”
“You only care when someone insults you.”
I crossed my arms. “Because I’m damn good at what I do.”
“But what about whoyouare?”
I grumbled a string of curse words, returning to my phone. “This is why I don’t talk to you.”
“We’re at lunch right now.”
“And you’ve been having a one-sided conversation for the past” – I flicked up my wrist, glancing at my Piaget – “twenty-seven minutes.”
She frowned. “You’re a real cunt sometimes, you know.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Who’s a cunt?” Polly chimed, returning to the table with a tray of croissants.
“Barbara Housen, for being impossible to track down.” I picked a mint leaf off the whipped cream, placing it on my tongue.
“You never save your contacts, though,” Zayla said.
“Too much work,” I waved, “besides, she should’ve contactedmemonths ago after I got her out of that bikini commercial.”
“What happened again?” Polly asked, taking a bite of her food.
“Barbara’s one piece was see-through and she was trying to rebrand her image but the label lied to her about it being a scandalous photoshoot so she called Scarlett to save her ass before the commercial went live –”
“Breathe, Zay,” I interrupted.
“So you canned the commercial, then?”
I leaned into my chair. “I buried that damn label, Polls.”
Zayla drew her brows. “How do you know so many people who can like, just cancel major companies?”
I stared at Zayla Edwards for a second and reflected on our three year friendship. I’d met her and Polly at a backstage party for Rory Klaven, a new DJ Arc & Sheild Records signed to promoteone of their new label-exclusive clubs.
Ryden wasn’t off the rails yet, mind you, he wasn’t as big as he is now. I still had a chance at making friends. People didn’t know me at all.
Maybe that’s why I clung so tight to the girls at this table. Because they got in before the curtains closed, and when they opened again, Ryden was a rock star, and all hope of a normal life was lost.
Not much normal to go back to, if I’m being honest.
I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
I sold my fucking soul for it.
Zayla was a girlfriend to Rory’s best friend at the time, before Rory’s best friend fucked Rory’s girlfriend and then Zayla fucked Rory… it was all too confusing, but I admired Zayla’s retaliation.
I found her crying in the bathroom minutes after Rory found his best friend’s hands down his now-ex’s pants.
“Everything okay?” I’d asked her, this petite, blonde-headed mess of sparkles.
Another girl walked in,myPolly Lavine, and knelt down beside her. “Hunny, you’ve got some vomit in your hair.”
Zayla burst into tears. “It’s just glitter!”
