Pulling her hand free, she shot Summer a stone-faced look of contempt. She held her gaze long enough to make her point. A crystal clear definitive screw you. Turning her attention to Jason, she said, “I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll have that drink now.”
Chapter Four
‡
“What are you doing?” Shayla asked.
“I’m on the verge of disowning my vagina. What are you doing?”
Hearing a smothered laugh at the other end of the phone brought a needed smile. Carrie Ann had spent the last hour daydreaming. No matter how hard she tried to forget, the same snippet of Summer kissing his beautiful co-star, both topless, played through her mind, adding a bitter taste to her morning coffee.
Carrie Ann closed her laptop and eased back in her luxurious office chair. Turning away from her desk, she stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankles.
“And why is your hooha being disgruntled this morning? You didn’t…”
“No! I didn’t sleep with Jason.” A soft naughty giggle filtered through her office. “Nah, it’s just being a little temperamental. Damn thing has a mind of its own lately.”
“Maybe you need new batteries. Booya! Oh, yeah! I just went there!”
She burst into laughter, hearing Shayla snap her fingers three times. Carrie Ann imagined her straight-laced friend throwing down her best sassy attitude in a quick three snaps up and circle. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Aren’t you funny this morning? Rub it in why don’t ya. I’m sure you had an orgasmic evening.”
There was no need to answer. Shayla’s tsk of empathy said it all. “How’d your night end up?”
“He’s a tie straightener.”
“Oh, dear. Not another TS.”
“I know, right? Since when have men become more consumed with their looks than women? He kept unbuttoning and buttoning his suit jacket too. By the seventh or eighth time I just wanted to rip the button off and throw it in the trash.”
Shayla scoffed, “Must’ve been bad if you started counting.”
“Eleven buttons and who fucking knows how many TS’s. I lost track after fifteen.” Carrie Ann shook her head in disbelief and disappointment. In a trance, the tips of her fingers traced mindlessly over the cold metal circles of the nail head trim outlining the cream-colored upholstered armrest.
“Was he a good kisser at least?”
The hum of Shayla’s voice trailed off remembering Jason’s attempt at a kiss the night before…and it wasn’t pretty. Playing the part of the perfect gentleman, he walked her to the door. He lifted the back of her hand to his mouth, but as he bowed to place a kiss on her knuckles, she didn’t even notice his hopeful sapphire eyes. All she could see was a pair of amber eyes from her past haunting her subconscious. There were no tingles, no butterflies, no sensual lure, just a cloudy hallucination of motherfucking Summer staring down at her subliminally.
Caution overrode any enjoyment when he leaned in stealing a kiss. His lips were warm and gentle as they moved from the edge of her mouth. Her heart fluttered, searching for something, any spark of interest to erase the memories burned into her brain. But there was nothing. He eased closer waiting for her response, but she stood rigid against his frame, unable to return the kiss.
Ahem! Shayla cleared her throat. “Earth to Carrie Ann.”
She shook her head rapidly from side-to-side, bringing her focus back to the discussion. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Did you let him kiss you?”
“Who? Summer?” Shrills of confusion saturated her voice.
“Wait…you kissed Summer?”
“No! No, sorry. What did you ask?”
“I asked you if you kissed Jason?”
“Yeah, kind of. I’m not sure I’d really call it a kiss, but he tried.” Carrie Ann’s nose wrinkled. Her face scrunched in a tight scowl of defeat. “This is all Summer’s fault. I expected him to have some…some gorgeous bimbo on his arm. Jerk shows up empty handed. I felt guilty inviting Jason in the first place and now I’m gonna have this shit hanging over my head all week.”
“Since you brought him up…what happened with Summer?” Whimsy floated through Shayla’s inquiry, intentionally keeping it light and fluffy.
Rising from her chair, she tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder grabbing her purse. “He said he wants another shot. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.”
“Oh.” She drew out the silent h.
Carrie Ann halted in her haste to get out the door. “You don’t sound very surprised. Please don’t tell me you that you knew about this?”
“No. Not really. I mean, he and I haven’t talked about it.” Shayla managed through a cluster of stumbles and pauses.
“I feel a very big but coming on.” She snarled, snatching her keys off the top of her desk.
“Summer’s had dinner with Tommy and Tess a few times. He…he talks about you. A lot.”
“Oh. My. God. You know what? I don’t have time for this shit right now.” She flung her office door open. “I’ve got three fires to put out and it’s not even ten o’clock in the morning. The bartenders I hired turned out to be Not so fully-certified as they claimed, so I’m on my way to the villa to meet with Take Your Best Shot Bartending Service.”
“Hey, don’t get upset with me. I’m Switzerland remember. Tess was curious and asked me a few things.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you enlightened her.”
“I did.”
Shayla’s reply was weak at best.
“You’re still on for noon tomorrow, right? We need to practice the introduction and our emceeing.”
Since she started working with the charitable organization, Carrie Ann included Shayla in every event. In the beginning, she assisted with organizing and planning. Another year she announced the recipient of the Humanitarian Award. Once, she even posed nude for the Have a Heart ~ Bare Your Soul Calendar when an infamous blonde bombshell bailed out at the last minute, putting Carrie Ann in a bind. Having Shayla by her side made the events more fun, but in truth, she offered Carrie Ann a sense of comfort and security, calming her nerves during the behemoth undertaking.
“Yep! I’ve been working on my one-liners.”
“Should I be scared?” Carrie Ann snickered.
“Yes, you should be afraid. Very afraid. I’m just kidding. John was very impressed. He thought they were funny.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure he’s impressed every time you open your mouth.” She giggled wickedly walking out the door. “Booya yourself! Now that was funny.”
*
In Beverly Hills, parties were serious business. California’s elite expected three things when attending any event; a phenomenal DJ, a bad ass bartender, and a guest list dressed to impress. Torrential downpours could flood the streets, hurricane winds might blow the tents down to the ground, but if she failed to entertain by any consensus, the blowback would leave a blemish on her reputation as well as the Have a Heart Foundation.
Take Your Best Shot touted world class mixologists with unlimited flair. Carrie Ann met with the owner and his crew of very attractive bartenders. Trevor was a tall, dark and handsome late-twenties-something entrepreneur with a smile that would make women go weak at the knees. He offered premium beverage services coupled with some serious showmanship of bottle flipping frenzy.
While watching a six minute demonstration of tossing, spinning, mixing and pouring, she fought to reign in the sexual pressure, fearing she’d be paying double for services rendered merely due to good looks. Especially the one with vivid green eyes, a bright wide smile, and dark curly hair.