Miss Congeniality (7 page)

“Don’t you agree?” Brea zoned back into the conversation at his question. She didn’t even know what he said, but both he and the waiter were expecting an answer.

“Um….sure,” she replied, picking up her drink to cover the fact she hadn’t been paying attention.

“Great.” He nodded affirmatively, handing both menus to the waiter. She pursed her lips, confused because she hadn’t ordered. Not wanting to make a scene, Brea waited until the waiter walked away before leaning toward him.

“Why didn’t we order?” she asked.

“We did.” He pointed toward the direction of the waiter. “I just asked if you wanted to share the Hawaiian pizza and you said yes.” He picked up his drink, sticking his tongue out of his mouth to grasp the straw, moving it from side to side. Brea blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her as he batted the straw like it was trying to get away from him. He finally bit it, which looked less attractive than what he did before, drinking so rapidly she had to watch his Adam’s apple move repeatedly.

“Okay…” she answered, rubbing her forehead to ward off the impending headache. She could eat the Hawaiian pizza, even if she had to choke down the slices. Who would want to eat pineapple on their pizza? “I didn’t realize we ordered, but it’s fine.”

“Well, we had to. I don’t know if I want to pay for this yet, so I figured it was best to share.” He leaned back and folded his hands behind his head.

Brea crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you mean you don’t know if you want to pay for this? That is what happens on a date. A guy pays for the meal.” He moved toward her, leaning his elbows on the table to be heard over the chatter of the diners.

Greg shrugged. “Well, technically, this may or may not be a date. A date generally implies some kind of dinner and the promise of sexual activity afterward. Let’s be honest, you stiffed me after the first one, so I don’t know if I want to make the same mistake twice.”

Brea narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling me you thought the first date was a mistake?”

“I regretted the way it ended.” She raised her eyebrows, leaning back as the waiter placed the pizza on the table. Brea leaned in, not wanting to be overheard by the people sitting around them.

“Let me tell you something about regrets, you asshole. I also regret the ending, but not the original one, where I didn’t answer your calls or texts. I regret the revised one, where I stupidly decided to give you another chance hoping something would be different this time around. That you wouldn’t bore me to tears and I would suddenly find you interesting enough potentially to continue to see you. But no, you had to open your mouth and be a dick once again. I would never have sex with you if you were the last man on Earth and we needed to reproduce to let mankind live on. And another thing,” she jerked her purse over her shoulder while she continued her tirade, “no girl wants to play Mad Libs on a date or watch you stab a straw with your tongue. The sexual undertone does NOT work in your favor.” She stood up, waiting for his reply, surprised when there was none.

“And by the way, dinner’s on you.” Brea left, head held high, pulling her phone to call Raquel or Clare. She wanted to call a cab, to be alone to recover from her disastrous date, but she had accidently left her wallet at her house, not realizing it until she reached for her phone, so she had to rely on someone else for a ride. Brea hoped Clare would answer because she wouldn’t ask questions. Ten minutes and two phone calls later, Brea knew she’d have no choice. “Hey, girl, hey! Aren’t you on a hot date?” Brea rubbed her forehead, feeling the headache she had been trying to ward off coming on full force.

“No hot date, more like hot asshole. Can you come get me?” Brea feverishly hoped Raquel wouldn’t give her a hard time, but Brea should’ve known she wouldn’t get off easily.

“What the hell happened with Greg? You ran out of there with a fire up your ass, so excited you were going to pee yourself to get to your date, and now you want me to come get you?”

“I wouldn’t be calling you if I didn’t need it. You can’t leave a fellow wedding crasher behind.”

Raquel scoffed. “That only works if you are at a wedding, which you aren’t. You’re on a hot date. I think this one needs a story before I decide to get in my car and come get you.” Brea was going to hurt Raquel, right after she picked her up.

“Let me tell you a story. It is about the blonde-headed actress who gets hurt in a terrible accident because she didn’t answer her friend’s 9-1-1.” A 911 was the worst of the worst, their code word for helping each other get out of dodgy situations for years. The women were often the target of some crazy-ass people, and they needed some signal.

“Oh, we’re taking it to a 911 now? Do tell.”

“Listen, I promise you will get the whole damn story if you will get your ass down to Sunset Pizza now. If not, I will be forced to call Bradley and tell him you thought he was amazing and you want another chance.” Raquel gasped, surprised Brea would stoop that low. Bradley was Raquel’s quasi-stalker; he had become so obsessed with her she had to change her number and call the cops on him. Brea would never tell Bradley that stuff about Raquel, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and right now Raquel was her only option. There was no way in Hell she was going back in there and having Greg give her a ride home. He’d probably try to get her to play Chutes and Ladders.

“Be there in ten.”

“Hey, girl, your mama let you date?” Brea shook her head at Raquel’s attempt at a joke. Leave it to Raquel to make an entrance. Raquel leaned back in her seat smiling, glasses over her eyes with her hair in a messy bun, white tee and jeans. Even in something so casual, she looked like a million bucks. Brea could easily see why she had men falling at her feet because something as innocuous as rescuing a friend from a horrible date could potentially lead to a pickup. Deciding to play along with her earlier pass, Brea leaned into the open window and crossed her arms.

“I don’t know.” She pretended to consider it. “You’re awfully cute, but you don’t seem to have the right equipment.” Raquel threw her head back and laughed, flipping the unlock switch.

“Get your ass in here. Geeky Greg must have been pretty bad if you threatened me with a stalker.” Raquel had an interesting habit of giving people nicknames she believed fit their personality.

Brea threw herself in the car. “You have no idea.”

Raquel drove off, not taking her eyes off the road while she questioned Brea. “So, inquiring minds want to know…when did you know all was not well in Gregsville?”

“The minute I realized he was jumping up and down over an old copy of Mad Libs.”

Raquel peered at her over the tops of her sunglasses. “I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood you. Did you say Mad Libs?”

“Yes! And the paper was yellow, which means he found it from years ago and still decided to use it. He told me he had a surprise for me earlier, and you know I love a good surprise.”

“Who doesn’t?” Raquel murmured. Brea turned toward her in the seat to continue the story.

“So, he is jumping up and down with this book, and when I was finally able to grab it I realized what it was.”

Raquel snorted. “So, how long did you play Mad Libs?”

“Too damn long. I think an hour, maybe more. The evening’s starting to blend together into this jumble of shit I wish I could take back.”

“So, after your tantalizing game of Mad Libs…”

“We went to dinner.”

Raquel looked at her like she was crazy. “Why in the hell would you go to dinner with him after that? Mad Libs is a hard line.” Years before, the girls had decided there were hard lines they wouldn’t cross while dating, their set of rules which outlined their level of morality and situations they wouldn’t tolerate.

Brea held her arms up in surrender. “It was not! We’ve never had a situation like this before. I had to improvise.”

“It’s going on the list.” Raquel jabbed her finger to emphasize her point.

“Fine, fine, put it on the damn list. Can I finish my story now?” Raquel always got off-topic, which was equally frustrating and amusing.

“We digressed, carry on.”

“Thank you,” Brea answered primly. “So as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we went to dinner at Sunset Pizza where he proceeded to bore me with details about the stock market and order us both a Hawaiian pizza.”

Raquel scrunched her nose. “Pineapple? And stocks?”

Brea threw up her hands. “That’s what I said. But wait, it gets better.”

“If it gets much better it’s going to make me want to date him.”

“Well, hold on, because Greg told me he didn’t know if he was going to pay for dinner.”

“The fuck?”

“Yeah, apparently since I didn’t put out last time, he didn’t want to invest in me this time and still get the same return.”

“Asshole. That only works if you’re a prostitute.”

“Needless to say, Greg and I had a long conversation about the fact he’s an asshole, and I won’t be calling him again.”

Raquel pumped her fist in the air. “Go you. I would say I’m sorry I was a bit of a bitch when I needled you earlier about needing a ride, but it would be a lie.”

Brea rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re not. Why do you think I love you so?”

“It’s a curse, but I bear it willingly. Besides, I know why you really went out with Greg in the first place, even if you refuse to say.” Brea squirmed, not comfortable with Raquel’s change in topic.

“Whatever.” She tried to play her off. Raquel arched her eyebrow as though to say she wasn’t convinced.

“Well, if I’m wrong, explain to me what part Lance Holder has in your willingness to give Grego a second chance, after you clearly didn’t want to following the first date.”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly.

“The witness doth lie.”

“Will you stop? Lance has absolutely nothing to do with my date tonight!”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you made sure to mention it when he was standing within earshot, and cut me off when I started to point out Greg’s faults?”

“No,” Brea said. Raquel waited patiently, her line already cast for her fish to take the bait. “Okay, so he may have had a little bit, and I do mean little bit, to do with the date tonight.”

“What is the deal with you guys? I didn’t think you really knew each other.” Brea sighed, knowing she was going to have to tell her everything.

“We didn’t, not until the press conference. But when I went to say something after they made the assumption about us being together he grabbed my leg and squeezed.”

“Uhhh, a little foreplay under the table. But you already told us this part; tell me something I don’t know.”

“Shut up, it wasn’t like that. But after it happened, we got into this big argument after the press conference, then again at the promo party, and then this morning at the studio.”

“So, you guys have just been one ball of sexual tension.” Leave it to Raquel to break it down to the heart of the problem.

“Something like that. But I’m not having sex with him,” she stated emphatically.

“Why the hell not? Let’s see. He’s gorgeous, good personality, you’re both single and clearly attracted to each other. So, tell me again why he’s a bad idea?”

“Because he’s dangerous and doesn’t fit my image.”

“Give me a damn break. The only one who thinks you fit that image is the media, who flaunts it.”

“I have a responsibility to my fans.” Brea tried to defend her position.

“You have a responsibility to yourself. And if Lance can do it for you, I say you need to go all in.” She shook her head and turned into a parking lot. Brea expected to be dropped off at home, so she was a bit surprised to see her pulling into one of their favorite bars with Clare standing by the door waving.

She turned to Raquel. “What are you doing?”

“Being your wingman. You clearly need a drink and Clare needs to know the deets, so I called her.” Raquel was always one to make sure they all knew each other’s business.

“I tried to call her first,” Brea mumbled.

“Then it’s a good thing you got me.” Raquel waved back at Clare. “Hey, girl!” she greeted Clare as she climbed from her car.

“Raquel promised me a story.” Clare hugged Brea when she walked up to greet her.

“Raquel lied.”

Raquel shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I got some trivia for you, Clare. What do sex, Mad Libs, Brea, Lance, Geeky Greg, pineapple pizza, 911, and prostitutes have in common?” Clare considered the two, Raquel looking cheeky and Brea looking a little sick.

Clare bit the inside of her lips to keep from smiling. “That depends. How many guesses do I get?” Raquel lost it, leaning over and holding her sides while she laughed uncontrollably.

“I need a damn drink.” Brea slung the door open, Raquel and Clare following behind her laughing.