Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Skip is now out of the closet and running a specialty dog biscuit boutique in Provincetown, Massachusetts with his boyfriend. And Adrian is…Adrian, as superficial and image-conscious as ever, but with an honest longing to do good. If he could go about it in a less pretentious, performative way, he’d be well on his way to being an impressive human being.
But pretension seems like a necessary evil in the art world. It makes the stuffy, business path I’ve chosen seem easy in comparison. Yes, I have to be professional and put together at the office, but I don’t have to act impressed by a fifteen-foot painting of white smears with a red dot in the middle.
“Then we need to get you dressed, baby,” Noelle says, bouncing up and down as she claps her hands. “Come on. I’ll slip into my dress and then get you fancied up and marvelous in thirty minutes or less.”
“Make it twenty,” Adrian says, glancing at his smart watch. “I want to be sure I have time to get inside the venue and meditate before it gets too crowded. I need to be centered to deal with influencers and journalists and gossip hounds asking why Gigi was photographed going down on a soccer player at a bar last night.”
I wince as I stand, laptop in hand. “Ouch.”
He sighs. “Big ouch.” He groans and flops back against the couch cushions. “And my dad’s going to want to have a meaningful talk at some point, can’t forget that. Dad’s always thirsty for a meaningful talk, even when it’s not the time or the place, and there’s nothing to talk about.”
“There, there, drink your coffee and think focused thoughts,” Noelle says, snagging my wrist on her way past the couch and drawing me toward her room. “You’re going to look so hot,” she whispers as she closes the door behind us. “I bet you’ll meet a fantastic older man while we’re out tonight who will help you forget all about Mr. Pilots Puppies.”
I haven’t told Noelle Gideon’s real name. I used a nickname, hoping it might lessen the pain of missing him, but it hasn’t. Whether he’s Mr. Pilots Puppies or Gideon, the thought of him still sends a stabbing sensation through my chest.
“I don’t know,” I say, forcing a laugh. “All the women at the office say dating in the city is a waste of time unless you have a matchmaker and do a background check that includes a sweep of the dark web. Apparently, the dating waters are full of sharks, giant squid, and ocean-killing islands of plastic debris.”
Noelle’s features pinch toward the middle of her face. “I’m not sure what that means, but I disagree. There are wonderful people everywhere.” She bobs her shoulders. “And horrible ones. But tonight, we’re going to draw the good ones to us like moths to a flame, I can just feel it. Now, let’s get you dressed.”
She reaches into her jam-packed closet and pulls out a black silk camisole dress with a dropped waist, 1920’s style. It has a lace panel across the chest, seed pearl decorations, and a skirt that ends in tiny pleats. On the hanger, it looks sweet and old-fashioned.
But once I slip it over my head…
“Woah.” My eyes go wide as I glance at my reflection in the mirror in the corner of her room.
“Right?” She beams. “You’re a sexy little snack in that dress. You’re going to have your pick of hot older men. You do still like older men, right?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, stunned at how much larger my breasts look with a bit of side boob showing near the dress’s spaghetti straps. “I think I just liked Mr. Pilots Puppies. It wouldn’t have mattered if he were twenty-five or fifty-five.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Noelle says, before pushing on in a no-nonsense tone, “But fifty-five would have been gross. Thirty-nine is perfect. He’s old enough to know what he wants, but not too old to keep up with you. If I ever break up with Ben, I’m only dating older guys. They’re just so much more dependable and predictable, you know? And I bet most of them don’t worry about running out of money to go out for a slice of pizza by the end of the month.”
I catch her gaze in the mirror. “But you don’t care. You’d rather starve with Ben than eat at a five-star restaurant with anyone else.”
Her smile stretches into a mile-wide grin. “You’re so right. He’s the sweetest and the sexiest and I love him to bits and pieces.”
“I’m happy for you guys. You give me hope that love isn’t dead, after all.”
She frowns and pishes at me with a flap of her hand. “Well, of course it isn’t. You’ll find your Ben. It’s just a matter of time. It could happen at any moment, even when you least expect it.”