Two perfectly reasonable and perfectly shitty choices.
Tucker tapped the plastic bag of vitamins he’d pushed into Pace’s arms. “Take these, daily. Especially if you have a hot date.”
“The only hot date he needs is with his own bed,” Red muttered. He nudged Pace, which equaled a hug in Red’s world. “Alone.”
Pace just sighed and kicked them both out.
Unable to sleep after Pace’s call, Holly alternately paced her condo and stared at her blank computer screen. She was trying to write her first article, but every time she wrote a sentence, she considered hitting Delete instead of Save.
This might have been because she’d kissed her subject.
God.
She paced some more, obsessed some more, then called her best friend, Allie.
“About damn time, chica,” Allie said. “I’ve been worried.”
They hadn’t touched base all week, which was all Holly’s fault as Allie had called several times. “I’m sorry. I’m starting a new series.”
“Which means you’re pacing in front of your computer, cursing Tommy and life in general. One of these days, maybe you’ll try it my way.”
Which involved yoga, health food, and a complete lack of stress. Unfortunately, Holly fell over whenever she attempted yoga, she had an ongoing love affair with junk food, and she lacked the ability to live stress free. “My way is fine. Or it would be if Tommy would trust me to pick the series ideas.”
“Interesting that you want your scumbag of a boss to trust you, when you don’t trust anyone.”
“I trust you.”
“When you trust so few,” Allie amended. “Yeah, you write about secrets, chica, but remember, not all secrets mean someone is cruel and neglectful. Not everyone with a secret is your mother.”
Holly sighed. “Yeah.” She and Allie had met in a college creative writing course, and despite their differences, they’d bonded over their horrible teacher. They’d roomed together for two years, Allie and her tofu, Holly and her chocolate. They’d become close, with Allie turning into Holly’s first true friend.
Now Allie lived in LA working as a housekeeper for the rich and famous while writing a screenplay on the side. They saw each other as often as Holly got to LA, which hadn’t been much lately. Allie was Holly’s one tie, the lone string on her heart, and she depended on it to keep her grounded.
“I hear your baseball phenom hit an RBI double and a sacrifice fly to go along with his seven innings of no-hitters in his last game,” Allie said. “He’s expected to do at least that in Philly.”
“I didn’t know you were into baseball.”
“I looked it up so I’d sound smart. Did it work?”
“I’m impressed.”
“Good. Mission accomplished.” Allie had a smile in her voice. “I was beginning to think maybe you’d fallen off the planet. Or better yet, found a hot guy or something.”
“Or something.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m right?”
“No,” Holly said on a laugh. “You’re not right. I’m swamped with getting this series started, that’s all.” Or not, she thought, staring at her laptop. “I just wanted to check in.”
“Aw, you miss me.”
“Yeah.” Holly felt a smile cross her face. “I really do.”
“Then stop running around like a chicken without a head. Stand still and grow roots. And if you could do that here in LA, with me, that’d be great. This is where it’s at, chica.”
“For you maybe, but I write nonfiction. I need to travel to the stories.”
“So switch to fiction. So is he on the Heat?”
“He who?”
“He, the hottie distracting you who.”
“Stop it.” But she caved as she sank to her chair and stared at the computer. “He’s the phenom. Phenoms don’t tend to like bossy reporters.”
Allie laughed. “I love it. You always did aim high.”
“You heard the nothing’s-going-to-happen part, right?”
“Call me when you have details.”
“There won’t be any.”
“Uh-huh.”
Holly thunked her head on her desk. “Well I don’t want there to be details, how’s that?”
Allie laughed and Holly hung up. She looked around at the condo she’d rented for the next month and let out a breath. Another condo in another city.
She had no idea where she’d go next.
Contrary to what Allie thought, that was actually the fun part of her job, nothing tying her down . . . Or it had been, until recently, when this odd sense of restlessness started hounding her. Maybe Allie had a point, maybe she should think about settling. She didn’t have to do it the way her mother had, with all the various addictions in play—the men, the shopping, the lying . . . which when combined had destroyed her, and nearly Holly as well. It’d certainly left them in the poor house.
Or more accurately, a single-wide in south Georgia. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Nope, if they’d been a real family, it’d have been fine. But Holly’s mom had always blamed Holly for her problems, and Holly in turn had blamed her mother for . . . everything.
They’d never been a real family.
Talk about being tied down. Poverty was the worst of ties. The memories were harsh, but Holly had raised herself and gotten out. The days of being so poor she couldn’t pay attention were over.
Tucker tapped the plastic bag of vitamins he’d pushed into Pace’s arms. “Take these, daily. Especially if you have a hot date.”
“The only hot date he needs is with his own bed,” Red muttered. He nudged Pace, which equaled a hug in Red’s world. “Alone.”
Pace just sighed and kicked them both out.
Unable to sleep after Pace’s call, Holly alternately paced her condo and stared at her blank computer screen. She was trying to write her first article, but every time she wrote a sentence, she considered hitting Delete instead of Save.
This might have been because she’d kissed her subject.
God.
She paced some more, obsessed some more, then called her best friend, Allie.
“About damn time, chica,” Allie said. “I’ve been worried.”
They hadn’t touched base all week, which was all Holly’s fault as Allie had called several times. “I’m sorry. I’m starting a new series.”
“Which means you’re pacing in front of your computer, cursing Tommy and life in general. One of these days, maybe you’ll try it my way.”
Which involved yoga, health food, and a complete lack of stress. Unfortunately, Holly fell over whenever she attempted yoga, she had an ongoing love affair with junk food, and she lacked the ability to live stress free. “My way is fine. Or it would be if Tommy would trust me to pick the series ideas.”
“Interesting that you want your scumbag of a boss to trust you, when you don’t trust anyone.”
“I trust you.”
“When you trust so few,” Allie amended. “Yeah, you write about secrets, chica, but remember, not all secrets mean someone is cruel and neglectful. Not everyone with a secret is your mother.”
Holly sighed. “Yeah.” She and Allie had met in a college creative writing course, and despite their differences, they’d bonded over their horrible teacher. They’d roomed together for two years, Allie and her tofu, Holly and her chocolate. They’d become close, with Allie turning into Holly’s first true friend.
Now Allie lived in LA working as a housekeeper for the rich and famous while writing a screenplay on the side. They saw each other as often as Holly got to LA, which hadn’t been much lately. Allie was Holly’s one tie, the lone string on her heart, and she depended on it to keep her grounded.
“I hear your baseball phenom hit an RBI double and a sacrifice fly to go along with his seven innings of no-hitters in his last game,” Allie said. “He’s expected to do at least that in Philly.”
“I didn’t know you were into baseball.”
“I looked it up so I’d sound smart. Did it work?”
“I’m impressed.”
“Good. Mission accomplished.” Allie had a smile in her voice. “I was beginning to think maybe you’d fallen off the planet. Or better yet, found a hot guy or something.”
“Or something.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m right?”
“No,” Holly said on a laugh. “You’re not right. I’m swamped with getting this series started, that’s all.” Or not, she thought, staring at her laptop. “I just wanted to check in.”
“Aw, you miss me.”
“Yeah.” Holly felt a smile cross her face. “I really do.”
“Then stop running around like a chicken without a head. Stand still and grow roots. And if you could do that here in LA, with me, that’d be great. This is where it’s at, chica.”
“For you maybe, but I write nonfiction. I need to travel to the stories.”
“So switch to fiction. So is he on the Heat?”
“He who?”
“He, the hottie distracting you who.”
“Stop it.” But she caved as she sank to her chair and stared at the computer. “He’s the phenom. Phenoms don’t tend to like bossy reporters.”
Allie laughed. “I love it. You always did aim high.”
“You heard the nothing’s-going-to-happen part, right?”
“Call me when you have details.”
“There won’t be any.”
“Uh-huh.”
Holly thunked her head on her desk. “Well I don’t want there to be details, how’s that?”
Allie laughed and Holly hung up. She looked around at the condo she’d rented for the next month and let out a breath. Another condo in another city.
She had no idea where she’d go next.
Contrary to what Allie thought, that was actually the fun part of her job, nothing tying her down . . . Or it had been, until recently, when this odd sense of restlessness started hounding her. Maybe Allie had a point, maybe she should think about settling. She didn’t have to do it the way her mother had, with all the various addictions in play—the men, the shopping, the lying . . . which when combined had destroyed her, and nearly Holly as well. It’d certainly left them in the poor house.
Or more accurately, a single-wide in south Georgia. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Nope, if they’d been a real family, it’d have been fine. But Holly’s mom had always blamed Holly for her problems, and Holly in turn had blamed her mother for . . . everything.
They’d never been a real family.
Talk about being tied down. Poverty was the worst of ties. The memories were harsh, but Holly had raised herself and gotten out. The days of being so poor she couldn’t pay attention were over.
