String Beans (The Girls of Beachmont #2) (7 page)

“I actually know
someone looking for an assistant now,” he said. “The lawyer I used to transfer
ownership of this place just moved into a building a few blocks away and it was
too far for his last employee. I can give you his number if you want it.”

“Actually…” I
wanted to argue and turn it town, but the sooner I found a job, the better. It
was on the tip of my tongue to say something snarky, but the truth was, I had
bills I needed to pay—and though it wasn’t my dream job, I needed
something. “Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He nodded and
walked away, leaving me with Callie and questioning why it was that I’d decided
to let her stick around.

“He’s into you,”
she said.

I almost got
whiplash with how quickly my head turned to face her. It was one thing to think
it myself, but
she
put it out there
in the open. For Callie, it was simply a matter of fact.

Each time she spoke
was like nails on a chalkboard, and it had nothing to do with her accent. Her
lack of boundaries of any sort was beyond my comprehension. And there she was,
spouting even more insanity.

Into me?

She must have been
out her mind; I barely knew the guy.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“What part of ‘married’
did you not get?” I asked, annoyed with her words.

“You said it
yourself: he cheated on you. Maybe you need to rebound.” She leaned over to see
if she could spot Wyatt, but when she didn’t, she sat back in her chair. “He
would be an awesome rebound.”

“And how would you
know that? You just met the guy,” I said.

“You don’t want?”
she asked, offering me a chance to keep him for myself, and I shook my head. It
was too soon. Way too soon. I was never of the mind to get over one guy by getting
under another. Maybe that was where I went wrong. But in this case, it really
was just a matter of timing.

“So you’re cool if
I try…” She stopped talking as Wyatt walked back over and handed me a piece of
paper with a name and number scrawled on it.

“I called him up
and told him to expect your call. Nice man, pretty easy to talk to,” he said.
As I took the paper from him, his finger grazed mine, causing my heart rate to
accelerate.

Not. Cool.

“Thank you,” I
managed to scratch out. His lip quirked up into a smile, and I felt myself
shrink under his gaze.

“Anytime,” he said.
As he turned to walk away, he looked over at Callie. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she
breathed out, and watched as he disappeared around the corner. Her chair made a
screeching noise as she dragged it and positioned herself to face me. “Yeah,
like I said, that guy is into you.”

I scoffed and
looked up at the ceiling before meeting her eyes. “I thought you wanted to try—you
know.”

“I was hoping if I
said that it would make you step up. Guess I played that hand too early.” She
laughed, bringing her sandwich to her mouth and taking a big bite. She closed
her eyes and all but melted as she chewed.

“Need a room?” I
asked, raising a brow in question. “I can give you some time alone.”

“This is amazing,”
she moaned and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here
before.”

“Six months and
you’ve never been here?” I asked, stunned. “But you knew where I was talking
about before.”

“Yeah, I pass it
all the time,” she defended. “Had I known there was a cute guy
and
awesome food, I would have been here
sooner.”

“Why didn’t you
come before now?” I questioned.

“It seemed too
hippie and mom-and-pop-
ish
—everything I left
back home. I’m a big-chain whore,” she said before taking another bite.

“Stop. No. That
sounds so wrong,” I said, stunned by her choice of words, even though I knew
what she meant.

She shook her head,
her mouth still full as she chewed. When she finally swallowed she looked at me
and sobered. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m totally a small-chain whore after this,”
she said seriously.

I ignored her and
left her to her multiple
foodgasm
as I started to eat
my own sandwich. I glanced at the piece of paper that Wyatt had left and opened
it up to read the name, and laughed at his handwritten note. Along with the
phone number for Mr. Bateman, the lawyer, he wrote his own message:

Vi’s new friend count: 2?

I craned my neck to
get a view of the counter where Wyatt stood, and found him watching me. I felt
my body start to warm when he caught me looking for him, and despite my efforts
to look away, our eyes locked.

Damn.

His lips turned
into a smile and I felt my own rise in response. I could do the friend thing;
you can never have enough of those, right? I lifted the paper in my hand and
nodded, watching as his smile disappeared and morphed into something sexy and
intense.

This isn’t going to end well for me. Or maybe it will.

“What was that all about?” Callie asked when I
turned around.

“Huh?” I answered lamely. I knew what she was
talking referring to, but I didn’t want to explain anything.

“You and the hot available guy,” she said, looking
toward him.

I followed her gaze and found him looking in our
direction. I quickly turned to face her and shrugged, finding her wiggling her
fingers at him.

“Will you stop it?” I muttered, swatting at her
hand. “He’ll come over here.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” she giggled. “Maybe you
need to talk to him a little more.”

“I’m not ready,” I stated bluntly.

“How long’s it been again?” She smiled.

“Almost seven months. Hardly time for me to jump
on the first guy that pays me any sort of attention. I’m not exactly desperate.”

 
“Seven
months is a long time…and no offense, but it’s gotta suck finding your husband
in bed with someone else.”

“Yeah. It does. Thanks for reminding me.” The dull
pain in my chest turned sharp at the memory of walking in on Will.

“I’m sorry,” Callie said, her brows pinched in
worry. “My mouth always gets me into trouble. I’m not trying to upset you.”

I nodded, unable to say anything in response, and
took another bite of my sandwich. A folk tune was playing overhead and I
allowed the sounds of the other patrons drown out my thoughts.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

“You don’t stop, do you?” I asked.

“Sorry.”

Callie looked down at her own food and started to
eat when I decided to answer her question.

“No. We won’t get back together. For several reasons,
but the biggest one being that it wasn’t the first. I know that we didn’t have
the perfect marriage. We were young and didn’t realize how much effort it
really takes to make it work. I’ve had a little time to think at night and I
don’t think I was happy for a while. But I
wanted
to be happy. So I did my best and played my part.”

“If all that’s true, why not get back out there? I
get that you’re hurt, but maybe your ego is a little bruised too. Meeting
someone else might be what you need.”

“For three years, I’ve been someone’s wife. I’d
like to figure out what
I
want first,
and if there’s someone out there that fits the profile, sign me up.”

“And Wyatt?”

“Okay, Callie, we need to work on your boundaries.”

She smiled sheepishly and went back to her food.
It was a blissful thirty seconds with no sound coming from Callie but the
occasional after-moan.

“I’ll help you find yourself. And maybe you can
help me learn to keep my mouth shut?” she asked. From the smile on her face,
she genuinely thought it was a great solution. Me, not so much.

If you don’t have boundaries now, you never will
.

Still, I found myself saying, “You’re on.”

***

Our visit at the coffee shop was short-lived. As
much as I enjoyed my time sitting and reading, having Callie with me and Wyatt
looming around the corner made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. I wanted
to leave and enjoy some alone time, but I wasn’t surprised when she walked back
to the apartment with me.

I
was
surprised when she didn’t let me go to my place. We were stepping off the rickety
elevator when she spoke.

“Have you met Dallas yet?”

“Is this a person?”

“He’s awesome. I’m so in love,” she gushed.

“Really?” I asked, intrigued with her limited description.

“Yeah. Too bad he’s gay,” she said. “Well, too bad
for me, anyway.”

She pulled me toward a door, three down from my
own, and knocked some strange beat before stepping back. A brown-haired man
that was a little too pretty for my eyes opened the door and moved aside to let
us in.

“Hey, Dallas,” she said flirtatiously. “I wanted
to introduce you to our new neighbor.”

He looked me up and down, taking in my long
flowing skirt and tank, before smiling.

“3B?”

“Yep,” she answered.

“Does 3B have a name?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. Knowing that Dallas was gorgeous
and gay took the pressure off and that made it easy to answer him. “Viola.”

“What brings you to L.A.?” he asked, closing the
door behind us and walking to his couch. I started to follow, but stopped in my
tracks when Callie spoke.

“Her husband cheated on her,” she said, and then
looked at me. “Crap. That’s one of those times I should watch my mouth, huh?”

“Yep,” I muttered and then looked at Dallas and
shrugged. “What she said.”

“Sorry about that,” he said sweetly. “How long?”

“Eight inches, maybe,” I answered quickly.

Dallas’ jaw dropped open slightly and then he
laughed. “I like you.”

I smiled and glanced at Callie who looked like she
was still trying to figure out what I meant.

“I think he meant…how long were you married?” she
asked giving me a concerned look.

Dallas scoffed and rolled his eyes, but I answered
her anyway. “Three years.”

At that admission, there was the distinct sadness I’d
grown accustomed to creeping in the way it did when I talked about Will.

Will it ever stop stinging to admit that?

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to talk about
this.” He smiled and then patted the seat next to him.

Yep. I love this guy.

“So what are you two up to right now?”

“We just finished lunch and I was going back to my
place until Callie dragged me over.”

It was a beautiful Friday afternoon, and I wanted
nothing more than to return to my apartment and relax. But it seemed that my
two newest friends had other plans. Maybe their distraction was exactly what I
needed, because the seven months I’d spent after leaving Will were filled with
tears and moping. I didn’t want to be that person forever.

“I’m going down to Mood Swings to get a drink
tonight. You ladies care to join?”

“I can—”

“We’d love to,” Callie interrupted, nudging my arm
as she sat next to me. “You
need
to
get out.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say that,” I said,
somewhat stunned by her assertiveness.

“Getting out doesn’t mean hooking up,” she shot
back.

“She’s right,” Dallas added. “And if I have to, I’ll
be your wingman…or the opposite of what a wingman is.”

“So more like a bouncer then,” I snorted.

“A bodyguard.” He smiled.

“You can be my bodyguard too,” Callie said and
winked.

“Callie, I love you, but you do remember that I’m
gay, right?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “So? You’re still
pretty to look at.”

Dallas laughed and returned his attention to me.
“What do ya say? You in?”

I looked between Dallas and Callie, the two
exchanging looks between them, and shrugged.

“Well, my friend Jolie is coming to see me soon
and she did
insist
I have someplace
to take her.”

“I like her already,” Callie said.

“It’s settled. You two get ready and be back here
at ten thirty,” Dallas said, grabbing us by our hands and practically pushing
us out the door.

I was already dreading the decision by the time I
closed my apartment door behind me.

***

It was eleven before we even left to get to the
bar. Dallas and Callie insisted that we had to wait until later or we’d look
like losers. They were both younger than me by a couple of years, but the way
they talked to me, you’d have thought I was completely out of touch.

They didn’t know anything about Will. They didn’t
know about our nights spent at the bar or his band. And based on my insistence
that I wanted to be alone, they likely assumed that I never got out.

But bars, clubs, staying out late—these were
the things with which I was well acquainted.

In part, they would have been right. Since the
night I moved out of our place, I hadn’t set foot in a bar or club if it wasn’t
for work. In fact, our friends were calling my phone and trying to get me to
come out and join them before they learned of the separation. I wondered why
they were calling if they were with Will, but I assumed he’d failed to tell
them what happened between us.

After Dallas and Callie convinced me to go out, I
alternated between excitement and dread. I always loved hearing live bands and
the familiar noise that came with a full bar. But because it was something I
was used to, I was worried about the memories that might sneak in. It was one
thing to ruin my own night. I didn’t want to ruin theirs as well.

So when Callie stopped by my place to ask what I
was wearing, I had already decided on a shredded concert tee and skinny jeans.

“What in the hell is that? Have you been to a club
in L.A. before?”

“What?” I asked, looking at my clothes.

“Okay, just so you know, Mood Swings is
the
hottest club.”

“At least for now…good to know,” I said. If she
expected me to go starry-eyed at the idea, she was sorely mistaken. Clubs were
nothing new to me.

“Is that really what you’re wearing?”

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“I get the whole
unavailable
vibe you’re looking to put out there, but this is
screams
I’m on suicide watch and I’m only
here because my friends are keeping a close eye on me
.”

“Perfect,” I said, slapping my palms together.

“You can’t be serious. Don’t you have anything
sexy in your closet?”

I shook my head, but Callie walked past me without
another word to raid my attire.

“You can look all you want. I’m not changing,” I
called out as I walked to my fridge to get a beer.

I heard the hangers rattle as she tried
frantically to find something, but I ignored it. I had some great dresses and
flashy shirts. But I always made it a point to wear what was comfortable.

She walked into the small living room and held a
red strapless dress in one hand and my skin-tight black dress in the other.

I pointed at both and smirked. “No. And no,” I
said.

“Why not? These are hot,” she said.

“Then you wear them.”

Callie held them up against her body and looked
down as she considered my offer.

“Want a beer?” I asked, turning around and walking
to the fridge again.

“Hold up. What’s that?” she asked.

I looked around and had no idea what she was
talking about.

“That shirt is crazy sexy in the back.”

“Thanks,” I said. I walked over and started to
hand her the beer, and paused as she reached for it. “You are legal, right?”

“For eight months now,” she said, taking the
bottle from my hand. She popped the top and took a sip before returning to the
subject of my shirt. “I had no idea it looked like that from behind.”

“A local band played at a bar one night in college.
I bought the shirt because I loved the name.”

“
Snarkectomy
,” she read
off the back.

The front was plain, and it was easy to understand
why Callie wasn’t a fan. The weird stick figure with X-
ed
out eyes wasn’t anything to gawk at. And given our initial conversation, she
probably figured it was a declaration on my current mental state more than
anything else. But
Snarkectomy
was my animal sign…or
something like that.

“Okay, fine,” she conceded as she walked back to
my closet. “But you need to wear some sexy-ass heels or something.”

I pointed to the three-inchers behind her. “Like
those?”

Callie looked down and then back to me, revealing
a large, approving smile.

“Okay. Go. Let me finish getting ready,” I said.

She disappeared and I decided that if I was going
to a club, and wearing that shirt, I’d at least take her advice and do
something extra to pull off the look. I didn’t mind wearing makeup, so I made
it a point to accentuate my light brown eyes and put on enough mascara to make
Tammy Faye jealous—only I avoided the hot-mess of it all.

I styled my brown hair into a braided messy bun,
making sure to pull my bangs out of the mix. It had been a while since I’d
taken time to fix myself up, and when I was done, I felt pretty.

No. I felt sexy.

There was a knock at the door and I opened it to
see Dallas and Callie, looking like the young, beautiful people they were. They
were ready to have fun, and for a moment I felt self-conscious.