Wicked White
Page 41

She laughs. “Big-time. I’ll see you after I get off tonight. I haven’t seen you much lately, and we need to totally catch up.”
“Sounds good. See you then.” I hang up after telling her good-bye and am hopeful that I’ll be able to gather enough money if I save every penny I can to keep this place without becoming Ace’s charity case. I don’t want him to think I’m using him for money.
When Birdie walks in my door later that evening, she stops dead in her tracks the moment she spots Ace and me cozied up on the couch together. Her eyes widen and then she gives me a sly grin. “Is he the reason you’ve been MIA on me all week?”
I bite my lip and blush as I flick my line of sight from Birdie to Ace and then back. I shrug a little. “Yes.”
As if that’s his cue, Ace leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’ll let you guys have some time.”
I turn and kiss his lips. “I’ll come over in a bit.”
He smiles and then pushes himself up off the couch and heads out the door.
As soon as the door shuts behind Ace, Birdie folds her arms across her chest and gives me a pointed look—a look she gives whenever she’s pissed that someone’s been holding out on her.
I hold my hands up defensively. “I was going to tell you.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “When? After you ran off with him and had a bunch of adorable little mini-Aces?”
I twist my lips. “I deserve that. You’re my best friend. I should’ve told you.”
“You’re damn straight, because what if he kidnapped you or something and I had no information to give the cops. What kind of best friend would that make me?”
“A fantastic one?” I say with a hopeful voice, trying to dig myself out of a hole, but it doesn’t seem to be working with her, so I shove myself off the couch and hold my arms out. “I’m sorry. Can we hug it out if I promise to fill you in now?”
She tries hard to force a scowl, but eventually it turns into a smile and she rolls her eyes before stepping into my embrace. “Okay, tell me everything, and don’t leave out any of the juiciness.”
I laugh and pull her down on the couch with me and tell her everything I can about Ace and our time together, only leaving out the part where he’s the missing rock star everyone is going gaga over trying to find. That would totally warp her mind.
It’s not that I don’t trust Birdie with Ace’s secret, because I totally would—I’d trust her with my own life—but the truth is, it’s not my secret to tell. I hope if the truth comes out, she can respect that.
When I finish telling her everything, Birdie turns toward me and props her head up against her arm that is resting against the back of the couch. “Wow. Shakespeare? Really? Him? I would’ve never pictured that.”
I nod and giggle. “He’s a true romantic.”
She bites her lip, and I know from the expression on her face that something’s weighing on her mind.
“Okay, out with it,” I say.
Birdie sighs and flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “I don’t want you to think that I’m not happy for you, because I totally am. I mean, he sounds perfect, and I can tell you’re really falling for the guy.”
“But . . .” I prod, sensing the hesitation in her voice.
“But, we still don’t know much about him, and that scares me for you. I know how sensitive you are when it comes to your heart. You’re an all-or-nothing girl, Iris. When you love, you love hard and deep. I just hope he’s as serious about you as you are about him.”
I want to argue with her—tell her that she’s wrong and that she has absolutely nothing to worry about because I know Ace. I know he’s got a good heart and his intentions with me are pure, but when I see the concern in Birdie’s eyes, it just makes me love her that much more.
I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
It’s an easy promise to make because I know deep down that I don’t have anything to worry about.
Right on schedule, Birdie’s at my house bright and early the next day to keep me on time for my first day on the job.
“Here.” She tosses me a T-shirt as soon as she steps through my door. “Angel will give you a few of your own, so just return it to me when he does.”
I stare down at a bright red shirt that’s identical to the one Birdie’s wearing, with the words “Angel’s Girl” stretched across her chest, before yanking the shirt I have on off and replacing it with this too-small shirt. “Are all the shirts supposed to be this tight?”
My best friend laughs as she double-checks the lipstick she’s applying in the reflection of the gold cap of the tube. “They are if you want good tips.” Her eyes roam over me, appraising my outfit. “You look good. You might even make tips on your very first day.”
It’s going to be hard for me to gain enough courage to use my body as a tip magnet like Birdie does. She’s got the body for it. She’s voluptuous, while my appeal is more athletic. I never had to flaunt myself at any of the waitressing jobs I’ve had before.
On the way to Cambridge, Birdie does an excellent job of filling me in on all the workplace drama that I’m about to walk into, telling me who to make friends with and who to avoid. She runs down the list of pointers, and I suddenly wish I had brought a notepad to write them all down on. I’ll never remember everything she’s telling me.