“Bye,” I murmur to no one.
What the frack?
I stare at the disconnected phone in my hand for a few moments, totally stupefied, then collapse back against my pillows with a huff. My eyes slide closed.Maybe I can fall back asleep for a few more minutes…
The thought has barely left my mind when I feel Boo’s weight settle in the middle of my chest. A second later, something warm and wet darts out and licks the length of my cheek.
“Not the face, Boo!” I grumble.
He ignores me.
***
Feet stuffed into slippers, silk bathrobe wrapped tightly around my body, I fight off shivers as I wait for Boo to do his business. Which, I know from experience, could take anywhere between three minutes and seventy years. I take a big swig of my coffee, hoping it’ll ward off the chill while kickstarting my brain into gear.
Gemma’s wake-up call came far too early. I consider redialing her, just to grumble about the indecency of ringing someone at six on a Saturday morning, but I know she won’t answer. Her gallery,Karma, opens tonight, and I’m sure she’ll be running around like a fangirl at Comic Con all day, trying to get everything done before time runs out. Then again, even if the opening wasn’t tonight, she probably wouldn’t answer. I’ve never met someone so unreliable with a cellphone in my entire life.
In the few short weeks since we met, I’ve witnessed her slaughter four different iPhones. One fell in front of a taxi as we crossed Comm Ave on our way back from brunch. Another slipped from her grip and plunged straight down a sewer grate on Newbury as she flipped off a rude cabbie. I think she flushed the third one down the toilet at the penthouse loft she shares with her mega-hot boyfriend, Chase. And I have no idea what she did with the fourth one, though I’m sure it came to a colorful end, like its brothers before it.
It’s become a cycle, of sorts — she’ll violently massacre one phone; Chase will quietly replace it with a new one. And so it goes.
Totally symbiotic.
This would be weird, if it were anyone else. But it’sGemma. The girl flies through life like a kite without a string, driving everyone around her crazy — including Chase. (Who, I might add, is nothing like his cousin — in either looks or personality. Brett Croft is dark, Chase Croft is light. Like Loki and Thor. Or, if we’re sticking with the Somerhalder theory… in vampire-speak, if Brett is Damon Salvatore, Chase is Carlisle Cullen. Just, you know, hotter and not at all sparkly.)
Shit, did I just make a Twilight reference?
I will spontaneously combust in shame in three… two… one…
Gemma and I became fast friends after we met at the gala last month. I made a point to visit her in the hospital after her brush with death (it’s a long story) and as soon as she was released, she called and asked me to brunch — which was basically three hours of drinking mimosas and dishing over Croft family drama. I’m not entirely sure why she decided to insert herself into my life — she already has a group of seriously kick-ass friends — but she seems hell-bent on getting to know me.
I’m hell-bent on letting her.
Gemma is a hoot to be around. Witnessing the sheer chaos of her life is better than HBO. Hell, give me a bag of popcorn (extra butter) and a large Diet Coke, and I could binge-watch for days.
On our third girl-date, she got me drunk on Old Fashioneds at Top of the Hub (the panoramic bar on the top level of the Prudential Center, where the only thing steeper than the views are the cocktail prices) and I spilledeverything. My love for Knox. His indifference. The night he stopped by my place. Lila’s plans to help me get over him. My fears that the closest I’ll ever get to a man seeing me naked is that one time Boo jumped into the shower with me.
Sigh.
She was sympathetic and, like Lila, determined to fix things. Though, I have a feeling Gemma is more interested in playing matchmaker than helping me move on. In fact, she’s a tadtooexcited by the idea of me and Nate dating, as evidenced by the way her eyes lit up as she squealed,Ohmigod! You and Knox? Together?! That is the cutest freaking thing I’ve ever heard! And once, I heard a baby pandasneezeat the zoo!
I tried to get her on board with the plan tolove-him-and-leave-him —fornicate-and-forget? (I’m still working on the lingo) — but whenever I bring it up, she just nods with a dreamy look in her eyes, likely planning the color schemes of Nate and my wedding. Somehow my love life, which was nonexistent until about a month ago when he showed up at my house, has been snatched from my grip and placed into the control of two crazy women. Between Lila’s grand plans pulling me one direction and Gemma’s Yenta-schemes pushing me in another….
I’m totally fucked. And probably liable to get torn in half.
“Come on, Boo, be a man. Make a decision,” I call into the crisp spring morning. “You’ll never catch a bitch if your willie freezes off out here.”
His head swings around and I swear, he narrows his eyes at me. Sometimes, I’m almost positive he understands English.
“Don’t glare at me like that,” I mutter. “I’m just looking out for your welfare.”
Finally, he picks a spot and unleashes a seemingly impossible amount of pee for such a small creature. No wonder he’s so sassy — he’s literally full of piss and vinegar.
Back inside, I suck down another mug of java and check my phone. It doesn’t surprise me to see three waiting text messages.
Lila: Are you awake? We need to strategize for the gallery opening tonight.
Lila: A little birdy told me Knox will definitely be there. Time to put Phase 1 into effect! Tactical plans include a sexy dress and killer heels.