The Hot Girl's Friend (5 page)

But I didn’t feel like crying on Mom’s shoulder over this. She’d give me some sickly sweet pep talk about how special I am and how anyone would be lucky to have me blah, blah, barf. Instead, I went to the zoo. I’d probably do too much damage at the mall.

But that didn’t cheer me up. It was a miserably hot day, and even the kangaroos just stood there. Not a hop in the bunch. Plus, there was no one to share a joke with.

It took everything in me not to answer the phone when Brady called. And he called three times. Miranda did, too. I was hoping in a few days the idea of the two of them together would be easier to swallow.

But chances were Miranda wouldn’t last with him a few days. She ate up her men like they were microwave meals; Brady was a single-serving pizza. And no way would he be settling for me as a consolation prize. Hopefully we could strike up a friendship again in a while, but it would never be like it had been.

And I wasn’t even going to insist he pay up on his bet and get me that damn shirt.

I managed to avoid Miranda on Monday, too, by heading in to work early and staying late.

She kept calling and finally left a voice mail. “I really, really need to talk to you about Brady.”

Delete. Not yet.

I also ignored three more phone calls from Brady. I supposed it wasn’t fair. They didn’t know I’d seen them together. Miranda would be furious with me for not returning her calls, but I was still hardening up my emotions. Kind of like a crab that had molted and needed to grow its new shell.

Brady’s messages were vague. “I really want to talk to you, Jane. Please return my calls. Unless you’ve got laryngitis. Or donated your vocal chords to science. Please, just call.”

By Wednesday morning when I dragged myself into work I was miserable. Even the darling ragdoll cat we were boarding for a week didn’t cheer me up.

I got ready in exam room one for a new client bringing in a kitten. Maybe it would be a cute little bugger who would make me smile. I looked up when the door opened. My mouth dropped, but nothing came out.

“Hi, Jane. I’d like you to meet Fluffy.”

“Brady? What are you doing with a kitten? What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you. You wouldn’t answer my calls, you’re never home. So, I figured you couldn’t refuse a guy with a new cat.” He held it up next to his face and smiled.

“Miranda doesn’t like cats. Or maybe you two have broken up already? She’s like that.” God, I could be such a brat.

He set the cat down on the exam table and made a time-out sign with his hands. “What are you talking about?”

I looked down and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I saw you leaving her apartment Sunday morning. And Fluffy is such a boring name.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t know you were getting a cat, or I would have objected.”

He shook his head. “No, about seeing me at Miranda’s?” His kitten jumped down to the floor, inspecting the place.

“Yes, interrupt your post-coital embrace.”

He rubbed his face with his hands while his kitten brushed against my ankles. I picked it up and stroked its head.

“I was over there asking her about
you
.”

“Me?” I pressed my hand against my chest. “What about me? If I would object to the two of you getting together?”

“I like you, Jane. I really like you. I didn’t realize it at first, but that’s why I wouldn’t let you go out with any of those other guys. My brother? Only if you want to kill me.”

I crossed my arms with the kitty pressed against my chest and tapped my foot. “If you like me, why did you have to talk to her about it?”

His hands circled the air, as he struggled to answer. “For some reason, I can’t let you know how I really feel about you without it coming out like a joke. I needed her advice. And no, I’m not interested in someone like her, with her tally of conquests and plans for worldwide man domination. When I met you, it was like I got knocked over the head and could think of nothing but you. Only, getting hit over the head made me too stupid to realize what was going on. I’ve been a bit gun-shy since I broke up with my ex.”

He reached for my hand but I gave him his cat instead. This wasn’t
Jerry Maguire
. He didn’t have me at hello. “But you were acting so strange when we went out to dinner. I definitely wasn’t getting any ‘I’m interested’ signals from you.”

He sighed. “I know. I was nervous, and I didn’t know how to be serious around you and tell you how I really felt. What if you made a joke out of it?”

I pretended to tidy up the counter, moving a box of plastic gloves around and wiping up a spot that wasn’t there. “I thought you were asking me out because you felt sorry for me.” Wincing, I thought of the frizzy-haired girl and her chardonnay.

He walked over and took me by the arm. “Please, blame it on medication, or a mental illness, or temporary stupidity. I want you, Jane.”

I let the words play back in my head.
He wants me
. “No joke?”

He shook his head. “No joke.” He swallowed and looked down at the floor. “I just hope you feel the same.”

I turned to him and stared, looking for a trace of sarcasm or teasing. But there was none. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him like I’d imagined doing so many times. “I do.” I squeezed tightly and pressed my eyes shut. “I’ve felt this way since the first night I met you.”

His hands cupped my shoulders. “I guess I’m a little slow.”

“Or maybe it’s environmental poisoning. But you’re worth the wait.”

He bent down and brushed his lips against mine. Fluffy jumped onto the exam table and rubbed against my hip, reminding me I was at work. I broke away from our kiss. “I can’t do this.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

I turned away from him. “I have to examine your cat.” I looked at him over my shoulder and smiled. “We’ll have to try that again when I’m off the clock.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank God. I thought you were going to tell me you were joining the Peace Corps.”

“Or a nunnery.”

“Or worse—starting a list like Miranda’s.” He came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed the back of my head.

My stomach rolled in delight. Then I felt guilty for thinking he and Miranda had hooked up. “I need to apologize to her. I haven’t returned her calls, either.”

“You’d better. Last I checked she was looking at bridesmaid’s dresses for what she predicts will be our upcoming nuptials.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well, she
was
checking out venues for a bachelorette party.”

“Now
that
I believe.”

A week later, I wandered into the bar alone, since Miranda was in the Bahamas with her new beau. Still hadn’t found an Australian with a yacht, though. But, I figure it’s good for her to have goals. Brady saw me and waved.

I scowled at the line of girls at the bar. I scanned the rafters for new bras but there weren’t any recent additions.

I found a stool and sat down. I tossed a small shopping bag at Brady and he caught it. “What’s this?”

“I’m settling up on our bet.”

He pulled out the t-shirt and smiled. “I’m taken,” he read.

One of the girls in front of him pouted. “Aww, you are?”

He looked at me and smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“And his girlfriend is crazy,” I told her, twirling my finger in a circle next to my head. “You don’t want to mess with her.”

“Really?” she asked.

Brady nodded. “She’s gotten into fights over me.”

“She’s been in jail,” I offered.

“The psych ward,” he added.

I nodded. “She even made that shirt just to keep women away.”

The girls were wide-eyed. “Why are you, like, dating her then?” one asked.

He looked at me and smiled. “She’s funny, and beautiful, and she gets me.”

I held up one finger. “Wait, I thought it was because you were afraid she’d kick your ass if you broke up with her?”

“Well, yes. There’s that too.”

“Awww, you sweetie,” I said, leaning across the bar for a kiss. “But wear the shirt anyway.”

His dimples appeared as he smiled and met my lips. “Always.”

* * *

You’ve just read one of the stories from the collection
Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories
.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0056VBOCQ
Buy it today for just $2.99. Read them all, and discover the loose thread that ties them together in a perfect, happy ending. You might also enjoy
Beach Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories
.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005GLJWSY

Look for
Holiday Flirts!
in October 2011 and
More Flirts! in December 2011
.

About the Author

Lisa Scott is a former TV news anchor who now enjoys making up stories instead of sticking to the facts. She’s dreamed of writing a book ever since she was in second grade and received lavish praise from her teacher for her short story on a group of crafty elves. (“So creative!” is the exact quote.)

When not begging her husband and two kids for a few minutes of peace to write her stories, she works as a voice actor and putters around in her koi pond and garden in upstate NY.

Go to ReadLisaScott.com to learn more about works in progress and the inspiration for her stories.

If you liked this story, lend it to a friend, leave a review or drop her a line at [email protected]. Like “Read Lisa Scott” on Facebook to find out when the next volumes are coming out.

Check out the entire collection of five stories below.

Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories
to squeeze into your busy life. Fun, flirty and sassy—and always with the perfect, happy ending. Don’t you just love a good little romance?

Each story is 8,000 to 11,000 words in length (approximately 32-44 typical book pages. Total length of the collection is 198 pages, or 52,000 words.)

The stories include:

“The Hot Girl’s Friend”

Can a plain Jane find love when her best friend is a curvy blond man magnet?

Jane usually busies herself fending off the men lusting after her gorgeous friend Miranda. When Brady the bartender overhears her inspired, ludicrous excuses, he resolves to hook up Jane with his friends. But Jane would be quite happy with him. Pine along as Jane tries to find her own happily ever after.

“Wrong Place, Right Guy”

She’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. Can the guy who saves her be Mr. Right? Or will his past keep them apart?

When Kristen is jumped in a parking lot, Tony jumps in to save the day. While she thinks her hero could also be her heartthrob, he’s worried his past is reason to stay apart. Will the good guy get the girl in the end?

“Not You”

One night with a stranger…gets even stranger the next day.

Single, lonely Carly thinks the best way to handle her mother’s third wedding is by throwing her own bachelorette-party-for-one the night before. What’s the harm in her first one-night stand ever? She’ll find out the next day.

“Desperately Seeking Cupid”

Does she finally have the key for finding love?

Brianna has tried everything to find love—with no luck. So she’s turning to feng shui to bring romance to her world. Too bad the guy she’s after thinks its bunk. Will her formula for love work—or blow up in her face?

“Never Been Dumped”

It’s a relationship with an expiration date, and it’s going to go bad
.

Rachel hates breaking hearts. She’s never been dumped, and she’s tired of being the one to walk away. But a handsome stranger in town for the summer promises he’ll dump her after their summer fling. Will they be able to say goodbye?

Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories
—buy the collection now for 2.99 or buy single stories for .99 each.

Bonus Content Sample:

Spouse Hunting: A Romantic Novella

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004Z1DA4S

By Lisa Scott

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Marshall parked across the street from the home with the big for-sale sign, wondering why her heart was dancing in her throat. She was buying a house, the good old American dream. Her phone rang, interrupting the niggling thoughts. Didn’t need caller ID to know it was her little sister, Julie. Again.

She answered with a chuckle. “Cake question or dress question?” Ever since Julie announced her engagement two weeks earlier, she’d been bombarding Elizabeth with menu questions and invitation samples and worst-case scenario worries.

“Are eleven bridesmaids too much? It’s just that Janey found out I asked Kim to be in the wedding and now she’s real upset I didn’t ask her, and if I ask Janey then what about Trisha?” She sighed. “This wedding stuff is so hard.”

You’re telling me, sister
. Elizabeth clicked the top of her pen open and closed. “Eleven, fifteen—whatever you want will be fine. It’s your wedding; you call the shots. Listen, I’ve got an appointment with a realtor, I’ve gotta fly.”

“You’re not even married, why are you buying a house?” Julie took it quite personally that Elizabeth had quit the dating game. Not that it stopped her from playing matchmaker.

Elizabeth swallowed a sigh. “I want a house. The husband, I can do without. And spare me the man lecture.” She wasn’t waiting for her happily ever after. Not everyone got one of those.

“What about Dave? Totally gorgeous and totally hot for you…”

“And he’s totally my boss now. Forget it.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I know. Talk to you later.” She hung up and sighed. A house would also be a good distraction at Julie’s wedding, when everyone was sure to ask, “When are you getting married?” So, bonus points for that. She was still clicking the pen. Fast.

She slid it on her clipboard, grabbed her purse and crossed the street to the cute Cape Cod flanked by two lilacs, heavy with purple blooms. She gave the house a this-might-do nod. But how would the realtor stack up? His ad said he had the experience to “Find Exactly What You Want.” Elizabeth squared her shoulders and thought, Mr. Henry Watson, you have your work cut out for you. Just like every sales clerk, waiter and hair stylist who came her way.

She walked up the wide stairs to the porch and the front door opened. A tall man with wavy dark hair and bright blue eyes came out and smiled. She tottered back a step as she took in the broad shoulders, the square jaw and chiseled cheekbones. He was, simply, the most gorgeous man she’d seen in…ever. This wasn’t good.

“Elizabeth?” His deep voice sent a hum zinging through her. “I’m Henry Watson.” He held out his hand.

The clipboard slipped from her fingertips. She stooped down to grab it, but he beat her to it. Still squatting, her eyes met his and she couldn’t look away. Neither did he. She sucked in a breath, and oh, he was lust on a rope.

“I’m sorry I was expecting someone…older,” she stammered, pushing her hair out of her eyes. The old fashioned name….the experience. She certainly wouldn’t have picked such a handsome realtor had she known.

She gripped the stair railing. Hotties played by different rules, and it had become survival mode not to trust a gorgeous guy with anything. With good looking men? Things always ended ugly. She toppled back on her behind. She quickly stood up and smoothed her skirt, trying to remember the last time she’d made a total fool of herself.

He smiled and handed her the clipboard. Words escaped her.

 “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got ten years in the business. My father taught me everything I know, and I’m working on one million in sales this month, Miss Marshall. Or is it Mrs.?” One corner of his mouth quirked up.

Perfect, he has dimples
. She pressed the clipboard against her chest. “It’s Miss.” She did her best to steady herself on her heels.

He crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Well, Miss Marshall, I’m the guy you want.”

She blinked. And blinked again. “Excuse me?”

“To help you find the home of your dreams. That’s my slogan. I’ll help you find exactly what you want.” Cue the grin. Clearly, he knew how effective that smile was.

Regroup
. “Right. I saw that in your ad.” She glanced down at her clipboard. Looking at the long, logical list of prerequisites for her first home helped quiet the emotions swirling in her chest. “I have two and a half hours per week to devote to house hunting, a budget I’m not budging from and a checklist of requirements.”

“Come inside and let’s hear it.” He held the door open for her, and she walked into the big, empty living room.

She glanced around—at everything but him—and started making notes. “No formal entry way, but it does have a fireplace. Wood burning or gas?”

“Is that one of your must haves?”

She looked up at him—and quickly back down at the list. “It’s on my second tier requirement list and merely adds bonus points. One for gas, two for wood burning.”

“It’s wood burning. Add two points to your tally. Tell me what’s on the primary list.” He leaned against the banister and smiled.

Could he quit with the grinning, already? “I want two stories and two bedrooms.”

He rubbed his chin, sprouting late day stubble. “Might be tight if you ever have a family.”

She stiffened. “There will be plenty of room for me and the fifteen cats I’m sure to have some day.”

He cocked his head and gave her a look.

“I mean I won’t be getting married and having children.” Her voice echoed in the empty room.

He raised his eyebrows. “A beautiful woman like you?”

Her lips pressed together in a frown. That was just a hot-guy line designed to flatter and disarm her so he could get what he wanted. But what did he want? A sale, and don’t you forget it. “It’s just me and two bedrooms will be fine.” She forced a smile and shrugged. “The world needs more cool aunts. I’ll be doting on my sister’s kids when she has them.”

He held up his hands. “Sorry, out of line and none of my business.”

Nice big hands, she thought.

“What else do you have on your list?” And out came his dimples again.

She walked to the front window and drew back the curtain, peering out at the street. Two kids whizzed by on bikes. “Definitely not on a busy street, not on a corner lot.”

“Understandable,” he said.

She turned back toward him and rattled off the rest of her long list: a deck, at least half an acre of land, an older build with charm. She flipped through the three pages of itemized details, reading them off and then looked up from her clipboard. “Nothing too complicated.”

“No, not at all.” He laughed and rubbed his hands together. “You know what you want. Should be easy to help you find it. This house has most of what you’re looking for. Let’s go see the kitchen.”

“Lead the way.” She followed him into the kitchen and wished she hadn’t; his rear view was perfect. “Very nice—the glass cabinets,” she quickly added, pointing to the cupboards. “Not on my list, but should be.” She got back to scribbling instead of gawking.

“One of those charming old details you want. Add a few points for that.”

“Oh, I will.” She wrote on her checklist and took a deep breath.

“Look at this convection oven, the granite counters.” He ran his hand across the gleaming countertop. “Gorgeous.”

Her eyes flicked up to his and back to the clipboard. “That’s one way to put it.” She tucked her bottom lip under her front teeth. “Let’s see the rest of the house.” She walked out of the room and realized he now had a look at her rear view.

She hurried up the stairs, wondering how she looked from behind. She smoothed her hand over her hip and felt a flush of heat creep up her neck. “Is it okay to use the bathroom up here?”

“Sure, check it out.”

She stepped inside and leaned against the closed door. She stomped her foot, totally annoyed. Her reaction to this man was stupid. Ridiculous. Usually, she could ignore good-looking guys. Hot men were like gooey desserts that left you full of regret the next morning. Elizabeth was rarely tempted by anything from the dessert tray. How had she lost control here?

She snapped her fingers. Because she hadn’t been expecting him to be so…incredible. Sketch a picture of her dream man, and it was this guy. But she’d meant what she said to Julie. She didn’t want or need a man. She splashed a bit of cool water on the back of her neck, took a deep breath and left the bathroom to check out the bedrooms. “Not a lot of closet space up here.”

“That’s a drawback with most older homes.” He opened the linen closet. “But if you’re going to be living here alone, you can use the all the closets for yourself.”

“True enough.” She rubbed her thumb along the cool metal at the top of the clipboard and followed him downstairs. They checked out the finished basement, which would be an excellent place for parties if she managed to assemble some sort of social circle outside of work anytime soon.

“Come look at the backyard.” Henry set his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her out the door. Goosebumps shot up her arms and she gritted her teeth, blaming it on the chilly spring evening.

The screen door slammed behind her and she followed him onto a patio lined with beds of bright tulips. She spotted another lilac and couldn’t help walking over for a sniff. Closing her eyes, she let the scent take her away for a moment. “This gets some extra points, too.” She broke off a few of the tiny flower heads and crushed them between her thumb and forefinger, running them under her nose to memorize the scent. She looked up and he was watching.

He snapped away his gaze. “There’s a lot to like back here.” He pointed to the back corner of the yard. “Imagine having a little picnic under that cherry tree. It’s a nice big area for a dog to run around—or fifteen cats.” He laughed. “Or to…well, what do you like to do?”

She walked away from him, trying to maneuver across the soft lawn. “I work a lot.” Once, she would have had a long list of activities to answer that question. She shrugged and shooed away a bee. “I don’t have time for much these days.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I work in the public relations department at the university.” Which had been a good, practical move when she dropped out of art school after a certain painter made a new art form of breaking her heart. It was also one hell of a knee jerk reaction, but it worked. She got over Jason and moved on with her life.

“Sounds interesting.”

 “The job keeps me busy. There’s always a function or event to attend.” These days, she didn’t really know how
not
to be busy. She stood up and walked back toward the cherry tree, wondering if she’d ever get the mud off her Blahniks.

Henry followed her. “This would be a nice place to unwind.” He raised one eyebrow with the suggestion.

“Unwind.” She pointed at him. “I’ve got to remember how to do that.” A sense of sadness swept through her as she ran her fingers along the dark red tree bark.

His grin softened and he lowered his voice. “This could be the place where you to remember how to do that.” He grabbed the branch she was touching.

She wrapped her arms around herself to fight off another shiver. She must be coming down with something. She’d have hot tea and a few Vitamin C’s when she got home.

He stepped back. “So…” He pulled out the listing printout and tapped it with his finger. “The couple that owns this got transferred to another city. They just did a bunch of updates and they’re desperate to sell. Perfect situation.”

Words were coming out of his mouth, but she focused on the white teeth and full lips.

 “What do you think? Are you interested?”

She widened her eyes in panic. “Interested?”

A smile slowly spread across his face and his eyes twinkled. “In the house. Are you interested in making an offer?”

She looked at the ground. “Oh. Right.” He must be used to women tripping all over their tongues around him. She was not going to be another giddy girl who lets her heart tug her around like a badly behaved puppy. She shook off the feeling and tallied up the points on her list. The house was nearly perfect according to her requirements. It scored a ninety-eight.

She sighed. “It seems to have everything I want, but for some reason I don’t want it. It’s like…something’s missing.” He’d probably think she was a flighty bimbo and refer her to another realtor. Which might be for the best, really.

But Henry just nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen this before. You think you know what you want up here.” He tapped the side of his head. “But it isn’t what you want here.” His big hand covered his chest. “What does your heart want?”

The question stunned her and her mind spun, searching for an answer. “I don’t know.” She turned up her hands and shrugged. “I guess I really don’t know what I want.” Why wasn’t home appealing to her? When had she morphed into an indecisive twit?

Henry reached for her elbow and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth. Whatever it is you want, I’ll help you find it.” He must have seen how her eyes widened because he dropped his hand.

 She took one step back. Then another. She should not be so easily unnerved by this man. By anyone. She turned and walked back to the patio. She crossed her arms and glared at the backyard like it had betrayed her.

Henry followed her back to the house and laced his hands behind his back, waiting for her to say something.

“Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe I’m too hard to please. Maybe this is wrong.”

He folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “Elizabeth, I sold fifteen houses last month. I once showed a woman thirty-six different properties until she found the home she fell in love with.” He pointed at her. “I won’t give up on you.”

She swallowed hard and looked into his wide blue eyes. For a moment she thought his promise was mixed with something more than his words. But then she looked away. She was just another commission; another challenge a guy like him couldn’t walk away from.