Which makes me break out in an immediate sweat.
“Mmm, I don’t know, Nick.” She tosses her bag over her shoulder. “Ezer wants us back here bright and early, and you know how he gets when we’re overtired or late or, God forbid, both.” She exits the studio and opts to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, which, granted, is known to be slow, but still, the way she races down the steps, the soles of her sandals making loud clacking sounds, makes me wonder if she’s trying to ditch me, which only increases the sweating.
I’m right on her heels. The thud of my sneakers slamming the stairs sounds as hollow and desperate as I currently feel. “Just because Ezer was born middle-aged doesn’t mean we have to act that way too.” I try not to sound winded and panicky but don’t really succeed. “Bring him along if it makes you feel better,” I add, instantly wishing I hadn’t. “I’d hate for you to miss it, Tins—it’s gonna be epic.”
She reaches the ground floor, pauses before the smudgy glass entry door, and pulls her lips in, like she’s sneaking a taste of her vanilla lip gloss while she considers her options.
“Heck, bring Ezer and a friend—the more the merrier!” I cry, having made the full transition from panicked to pathetic. “What’s your boyfriend’s name again?” I arrange my face to look like I’m struggling to remember, even though I’m unlikely to ever forget the name that’s haunted me since my Gymboree days.
She squints. Tilts her head to the side. “You mean Mac?”
I hold my breath, waiting to see what comes next. Will she confirm they’re still together? Make a face and laugh, telling me she and Turtledove are officially over?
The seconds tick past.
The silence drags.
“Well…maybe…,” she finally says. “I have some stuff to do at home…and I’m not sure Ezer will want to go, so I’ll need someone to drive me….” She places her palm on the door and gives it a shove.
“I’ll send the limo!” I speak the words so quickly, it’s clear to both of us I’ve just willingly forfeited every last trace of cool. “Believe me, Sparks won’t mind.” I cross my arm over hers as though I’m trying to do the polite thing by getting to the door first, when mostly I’m trying to close this deal before she can get in Ezer’s waiting car, start texting Mac, and forget I exist.
“You’d do that?” She studies me, her face so close I can make out every individual eyelash, every single blue fleck in her irises, and yet it’s impossible to read what she’s thinking.
“Sure,” I say. “Why not?” Hardly able to believe I just offered Tinsley and Mac the use of my limo.
She continues to stare, all the while doing this twisty thing with her lips. “Mmm, okay…,” she finally agrees, which isn’t exactly the enthusiastic response I was after.
“Great, it starts at eight.” I leave her with that, not wanting to drag this out any further and give her a chance to change her mind. I head for the limo, where Sparks holds back a crush of the exact same fans who wait in the exact same spot every day on the off chance I might profess my undying love and marry one of them.
All the while I’m replaying the conversation in my head and arriving at the startling conclusion that I’ve been fooling myself all along.
Tinsley’s been in charge the whole time.
OPERATION MISTLETOE
By 8:35 the music is blaring, my house is packed wall-to-wall with people, and yet all I can do is pace before the front windows, so focused on Tinsley’s arrival I can’t even enjoy my own party.
“Dude, what gives?” Dougall comes up from behind me and shoves a red plastic cup into my hand. “You are missing some truly epic events going down by the pool.”
I take a sip from the cup, then spit it right back.
“What’s the problem, bro? It’s just Mojo—your drink of choice.” He laughs. “I may have doctored yours up a bit, but that’s only to help you relax. You’re gonna burn a hole in that carpet if you don’t put the brakes on.”
I return the cup, more than a little annoyed with my friend. The last thing I need is to kiss Tinsley with messed-up-Mojo breath. Dougall knows just how important this night is. Heck, I pretty much let him plan it. Since I’ve been spending so much time with Tinsley in the recording studio, I thought it’d be good for him to have something to do other than bug me while I’m trying to work.
Dougall ditches the cup on a side table and turns back to me. “Uh, I hate to break it to you, but this party was your idea, remember? Not that anyone actually needs you to have fun, but people kind of like seeing the host bangin’ it up now and then.”
“Yeah, well…” The words fade. I can no longer remember what I was going to say.
Sparks just pulled up in the limo.
He’s slipping out of his side of the car and going around to open the door.
And when Tinsley climbs out, I hold my breath, waiting to see if Mac’s with her.