Blogger Girl (15 page)

“All of it,” she mumbled. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I tried!”
Repeatedly.

“Ugh. So, how was the rest of your night? What time did you get home?”

“A couple of hours ago,” I said as if it was no big deal.

After a brief hesitation, Bridget said, “Oh? What happened?”

Unable to contain my excitement any longer, I shouted, “I went home with Nicholas!”

“Way to go, Kimmie! But I thought you said he was flirting with Hannah.”

Shaking my head as if she could see me, I said, “No. He wasn’t flirting with her. But she did almost ruin everything by blurting out that Jonathan and I used to date. It was so awkward.” I bit down on my lip. Now that I knew Bridget liked Jonathan, I wondered if it would be awkward every time I mentioned his name. “But I told Nicholas we were just friends now and he dropped it.”

“Good. So, what happened?”

I removed the container of chicken and broccoli from the microwave, grabbed a fork and sat down on my couch. “I was seriously slutty, Bridge. But I couldn’t help myself.”

She giggled. “Was it as good as you imagined?”

“Yeah,
it was. Both times.” I took a tiny bite of broccoli, realized it was entirely too hot and placed the container on my coffee table to cool down.

“What happened with Jonathan?”

“He went home. After I introduced him to Nicholas. More awkward-ness ensued.”

Bridget let out a weak laugh.

“Bridge?” I said as I chewed on a fingernail.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to be a born-again virgin for the rest of your life?”

“No!”

“Just checking.” I paused. “Bridge?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Jonathan?”

Silence.

“You can tell me. I won’t be mad! There was some serious flirting at your place last night and it didn’t involve me. That’s all I’m sayin’.” I picked up the container of food for a second attempt and cautiously took another miniscule bite. Satisfied that it was sufficiently cooled down, I dared an even bigger piece.

“Aargh!”

I swallowed the nugget of chicken in my mouth. “What?”

“This is so embarrassing. And awkward. Aarrgh! Let’s not do this now, okay? I need to take another nap.”

“Okay.” At least she was admitting there was something to talk about.

“So, are you and Nicholas dating now?”

“When I left his place he gave me a hug and said, ‘See you tomorrow, Kimmie’ not ‘Want to go to the movies this week?’ I don’t even know if Nicholas dates. He probably doesn’t have to if girls like me make it so easy for him to get laid.” Even as the words left my mouth, I was positive if I had a chance to go back in time, I would have slept with him all over again. I might have been a slut but I wasn’t delusional.

“You really like him though?”

I would have been more comfortable with the question if I could truthfully answer that I only liked him because he was hot and the sex was fantastic. I’d never lied to Bridget before and I wasn’t about to start now, so with a mixture of excitement and dread, I confessed, “Yeah, I really like him.” His dorky harmonica performance, the boxer shorts emblazoned with designs of record albums I had spied on the top of his laundry hamper, and even the collection of old MAD magazines he’d collected since he was a little boy made him real to me. The “real” Nicholas was even hotter, if that was even possible, than the Nicholas I had imagined in my head. I repeated, “Yeah, I like him, Bridge. God help me, but I like him.”

After we hung up, I finished my chicken and broccoli and logged onto
Pastel is the New Black
. When I saw how many books I had listed as “reviews coming soon,” I snuggled into my favorite reclining chair with my Kindle. Then I remembered the decision I had made the night before, closed my Kindle and emailed Candy at Novel Inc. PR. Before I changed my mind again, I told her to send me Hannah’s book. I crossed my fingers that
Cut on the Bias
would suck so that I could write a shitty review that was based on fact and not my own personal feelings for the author. But I wasn’t holding my breath.

THE NEXT MORNING,
I sat at my desk drinking from my second cup of coffee of the day. I hadn’t slept very well the night before. Part of me was still basking in the afterglow of having sex with Nicholas. The other part of me was afraid it was the beginning of the end. Maybe Nicholas had been curious about me and now that his curiosity was satisfied, he would move on to someone else. He also knew that I wasn’t necessarily opposed to having a fuck buddy since Hannah had so kindly blurted out my relationship with Jonathan. Maybe that was all he thought I wanted. Or worse, maybe that was all
he
wanted. We hadn’t talked since I left his apartment the previous morning and he hadn’t come by Rob’s office yet. I wanted to get our first post-hook-up communication over with but there was no way I was going to him first.

My phone alerted a text message from Caroline. I had texted her the night before to tell her what had gone down. “I told you he liked you! We have to get drinks soon so you can give me the details!” I was about to text her back when my office phone rang. The caller ID told me it was Erin. I reluctantly picked up the phone, “Hey.”

“Hey. How was the reunion?” Before I had a chance to respond, she kept talking. “I saw pictures on Facebook. You weren’t in any of them.”

“Whose pictures were they?” I knew the answer before I asked.

“Hannah’s, of course. Her dress was stunning!”

I rolled my eyes. Bridget’s dress was much nicer and so was mine! “I would hope her dress would be nice considering she works in fashion.”

“Work
ed
in fashion. She’s a writer now.”

I sighed heavily before responding. “Her book hasn’t even been released yet. I seriously doubt she’s quitting her day job anytime soon.”

“Soon enough, I’m sure. Did you talk to her?”

“Talk to who?”

Sounding annoyed, Erin said, “Hannah! She said she talked to you.”

It was way too early for this conversation I thought, as I took a gulp of my now lukewarm coffee. “If you knew we talked, why are you asking me?” I lay my head on my desk.

“I wanted to get your side of the story.”

I lifted my head. “Side of the story? What story?”

“She said you agreed to read her book.”

“She did, did she?” What a presumptuous bitch! “I never actually said that but, yes, I will be reading her book.” Was it too late to recall my message to Candace?

“Awesome!”

“Yay!” I said sarcastically, reaching for my coffee again.

“So, who’s Nicholas?”

Almost spilling my coffee across the desk, I said, “Wha…What? Why?”

“Hannah said she met this cute guy and that he was a friend of yours.”

Why wasn’t I surprised that Hannah referred to Nicholas as my “friend” as if she couldn’t believe he’d actually be interested in me? “What else did she say about Nicholas?”

“Did I hear my name?”

I looked up from my phone and felt my get face got hot as I made eye contact with Nicholas. “I’ll talk to you later, Erin.” I hung up before she could say anything else. “Hi there,” I said with a casual smile.

Smiling back, he said, “Hi. Did I hear my name?”

I quickly debated making up a lie but decided it wasn’t worth it. “Apparently, Hannah asked my sister about you.”

“Really? What did she want to know?” Nicholas asked, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Scowling at him, I said, “I didn’t get that far, but I can connect you two on Facebook if you’re interested.”

Nicholas’ close-lipped smile trembled slightly. “Here,” he said, handing me a light pink silk-screened journal. “I bought it for you.”

I held up the journal and looked at Nicholas. “What’s this for?”

Giving me a devilish grin, he said, “Consider it payment for services rendered.”

Feeling myself flush, I said, “I’m not a prostitute, Nicholas!” I knew being a slut would work against me. Why couldn’t I have stopped at kissing?

Laughing, Nicholas put two fingers to his lips. “Shh. I went to dinner with my sister last night and she dragged me to some stationary store that was having a major sale. I saw it and thought of you.”

When Rob called out “Nicholas!” he said, “Gotta go,” and walked away, waving behind him.

I stared at the journal gobsmacked. Why would Nicholas give me a journal? On the one hand, it was kind of sweet, not to mention surprising, that he bought me anything, but a journal? If he bought me flowers or chocolate, I would take it to mean he was interested in me and would be half giddy and half creeped out that he liked me a bit too much too soon.
Not that I would ever refuse chocolate, of course.
But a journal was neither an obvious sign of romantic interest nor creepy. Unless he wrote in it first. If he wrote a love letter or something otherwise cheesy, I’d die. I quickly opened the journal and flipped through the pages. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was completely blank. I scratched my forehead. What did this mean? Did it mean
anything
? It was times like this I wished I had a brother instead of a sister. I’d actually wished Erin was a boy more times than I could count, but that was neither here nor there.

When Rob’s phone rang twice without him answering, I picked it up. “Rob Forrester’s office.” I was in the process of taking a message since the guy didn’t want to go into voicemail when Nicholas walked out of Rob’s office. He winked and I gave him a closed-mouth smile in response. I hadn’t had a chance to thank him for the journal and so after I hung up and handed Rob the message, I grabbed the journal from my desk and walked to his office.

“Knock, knock,” I said.

Looking up from typing furiously on his computer, Nicholas smiled. “Who’s there?”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks who?”

“No, thanks
you
!” I said giggling. Sometimes I impressed myself with my quick wit.

Nicholas smiled softly. “Nice one.”

“Actually, I’m here to thank you for the journal. Very thoughtful of you. I could probably use it to take notes while reading for my blog.”

“Or you can document our X-rated activities,” he said, lifting and lowering his eyebrows.

“Will we be partaking in more X-rated activities?”

“I certainly hope so.”

I took it upon myself to sit down on his guest chair. “Listen, Nicholas.”

Nicholas placed his elbows on his desk and looked at me intently. “I’m all ears.”

I took a deep breath in and out hoping to slow my pulse. “I had a lot of fun with you on Saturday night.”

“And Sunday morning,” Nicholas interrupted.

“And Sunday morning.” My face contorted into a small smile against my will. “But you should know I’m not looking for a fuck buddy or friends with benefits situation.” Something I probably should have mentioned
before
I spread my legs.

Nicholas nodded and rubbed his chin. I rolled my eyes and he grinned. “Good. Because I hate when chicks use me for sex. It’s so humiliating.”

I had a feeling this conversation was going nowhere fast and so I stood up. Waving the journal at him, I said, “Thanks again.”

“You’re very welcome. And Kimmie?”

I had one foot out of his office but turned around. “Yeah?”

“I hope the journal inspires you to write great things.”

My stomach lurching, I said, “I’ll do my best.”

Nicholas leaned back in his chair with his feet against his desk. “Good girl.”

I returned to my desk, logged onto Facebook and immediately wished I hadn’t.

Hi Kim,

So great to see you at the reunion. I wish I had more time to talk to you about “Cut on the Bias” though. As you’ve no doubt heard, it takes place in Paris. You’ve probably never been there but it’s the most romantic city in the world and the perfect setting for a novel. I wanted to make sure you were on the short list of reviewers because I’m positive it will make your 2013 favorites list. You can thank me later.

Salut à bientôt.

Hannah

PS: Nice touch with the Louboutins. They actually gave you a little height
.

After checking a French to English translation site, I shook my head in repulsion. Why couldn’t she just say “
Au Revoir”
or better yet “
Bye”
like a normal person?

***

I had a pit in my stomach that lasted the entire afternoon and into the evening. I tried to work on blog maintenance but each time I tweeted a new review, I thought about having to do that for Hannah at some point. The thought of helping Hannah promote her book on any level made my skin run cold, especially since I wasn’t paid for my services. Although, receiving compensation for reviewing her book would only be mildly less nausea inducing. I thought about what Nicholas had said while we were in bed.
“Maybe it sucks. And if that’s the case, you get to write a crappy review.”
It was easy for him to be so calm. He didn’t have to help the mean girl from his high school with her burgeoning writing career. I should ask him how he would feel representing a bully who repeatedly stole his lunch at recess in the 3
^rd
grade.