“I seriously doubt Macy will give a fuck what you do, Starla,” he said, but she got the feeling there was more hostility behind those words than he put into them. Nevertheless, he turned his attention to the TV, seemingly done with the conversation.
And what had it all been for, anyway? It wasn’t as if anything would come of last night. Jared hadn’t texted, called, or otherwise gotten up with her, and though he’d said he would, and she’d hoped he would, she hadn’t expected him to. Not really. No, all she got was stupid-ass, half-indecipherable, I-flunked-second-grade texts from Max and a dick pic. Quite the romantic, that one.
Across the room from her and adjacent to Ghost, Janelle sighed as she walked over to turn off the neon Open light. Starla hadn’t even realized it was closing time. “I really, really miss Brian,” Jan said as she did so. “And I think he’d better get back here as soon as he can.”
Grim silence settled over the shop as Starla and Ghost reserved comment. But she figured Ghost was probably thinking the same thing she was. Janelle was right. Brian was as fun as anyone in the studio, but he was also the boss, the authority, and quite often the referee. Too much longer without his guidance and natural leadership, and they all might implode. At that particular moment, Starla wanted more than anything to know he was back there in his office so she could walk in there, shut the door and unload on him. He would say something brilliant, something she needed to hear even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. And suddenly everything would make more sense and she would have a clearer idea of what to do about her crazy life. God, yes, she missed him.
But a funny thing had happened. For the first time in as long as Starla could remember, Brian wasn’t the dominant presence in her thoughts. Today, that particular honor had gone to a tall, bearded, blue-eyed dad who’d rescued her more than once and kissed her hand like a knight in shining armor. Her heart did a silly flip in her chest every time she thought about it, when she’d always figured she was way, way beyond the infatuation-based palpitations. They never happened to her. Neither had she ever really tingled or felt electricity or stared in slack-jawed wonder whenever a man touched her. That must only happen for those weak, blushing virginal types, she’d often thought, which she most definitely was not and never had been…even back when she was a virginal type.
Jared had made her feel as if it was the first time she’d ever been touched at all. With nothing but a kiss on the back of her hand, a whole new universe had opened right in front of her eyes.
Hell yes, she wanted to explore it. She just didn’t know if she could afford the trip.
Chapter Eight
Jared was driving home from work on Tuesday when the call he’d been expecting finally came. The only thing surprising about it was that it hadn’t come on Monday.
Shelly greeted him sweetly, as she always did—he could count on one hand the number of times things had gotten really ugly between them since the divorce. Before the divorce was a different matter entirely.
After a few minutes of idle chitchat about work and the girls’ school and their upcoming pediatric checkup, though, she got to the point.
“Mimi tells me you had company Sunday night.”
Jared winced, but he’d figured Mia would be the one to squeal on him first. “She did, huh?”
“You’re seeing someone?” He tried to gauge Shelly’s voice for any anger or hurt, but she’d always been fairly adept at hiding it. So adept, in fact, that she was quite capable of stewing over her emotions for months until they erupted and did irreparable damage. Thus the split that had shocked the town gossips…at least until they really thought about it.
“No,” he told her. “She’s a friend.”
“Starla, is it? I don’t guess I know her. I didn’t recognize the name.”
“I only just met her myself.”
“Ashley said she has pink-and-blue hair and tattoos.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah. Well, she’s blonde. With pink and blue in it. Her hair, I mean. And tattoos.” And probably piercings. Who knew where.
Silence greeted that halting description for several heartbeats. “So she’s nice, right?”
Ah God. “Of course she’s nice, Shell. I wouldn’t bring anyone around the girls who wasn’t ‘nice.’ I did something for her, and she made us dinner. That was it. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
“Um, am I making a big deal out of it? I didn’t think I was. I do think I deserve to know who you’re bringing around my kids, though.” Now an edge was creeping into her always sugarcoated voice.
“Sure you do. But it was just one dinner. It’s not like she’s moving in.”
“Things happen.”
“I guess they do, but nothing did. Okay?”