A Sweet Mess - Jayci Lee Page 0,74

Aubrey freed his shirt from his slacks and ran her hands over his bare back. His muscles clenched, and a shudder ran through him. He was helpless against her touch and she knew it, and her momentary shyness was nowhere to be seen. “I never knew you were a poet.”

“Only with you, my muse.”

17

The time to shoot her episodes came much too soon for Aubrey. She wasn’t cut out for show business. There were way too many people, too many lights, and most of all, too much makeup. The thick mask they plastered on her face made smiling feel like weight lifting.

The only thing stopping her from running out the door screaming was the thirty-minute foot massage IOU Landon had left by her pillow this morning. But for now, she had to play dress-up with the scary stylist.

“I like the way you dress,” Covergirl observed. “You have a pretty unique sense of style.”

“But?” There was a big but coming.

“Well, let’s give it an extra little pop.” She scrutinized Aubrey like a butcher about to slice off a choice slab of meat. “I think we should go with an Alexa Chung feel.”

“Alexa who?”

“Alexa Chung. Probably one of the most influential fashionistas in the world today.” She was clearly appalled at Aubrey’s ignorance. “Whatever she wears, it becomes the hot now trend. Casual chic, boho chic, city chic.”

“And if she wore a potato sack, it would be called burlap chic.” Aubrey laughed, which turned into an awkward cough when the stylist glared at her. Apparently, Alexa Chung was too sacred to joke about.

“Can you suck in your stomach a little?” She struggled to zip Aubrey’s dress up.

“What?” Aubrey frowned but did as she was told.

With more grumbling from the stylist, Aubrey was zipped up, powdered, and made generally presentable. She pursed her lips as she studied herself in the mirror, twisting left and right. Her clothes did feel tight around her waist and bust.

She was probably bloated because her period was finally coming. Wait. What’s today’s date? After some quick math, Aubrey realized she’d missed two periods. Oh, shit. Of course, she knew she was late—just not that late. She’d gone through times when stress made her period stop for a month or two—like when she’d left home and when she’d opened Comfort Zone.

Since she’d been stressed to the max when she was on the brink of losing Comfort Zone—when things had felt hopeless—she hadn’t thought anything of being late. But now … now she felt far less desperate. The move and the renovations were in progress. She had a real chance of saving Comfort Zone. Then why was her period still late? And why were her clothes so tight?

Aubrey forced down her panic before it could start. With the stress from the past few months, her hormones were understandably out of whack. Other than the double-the-bloating inconvenience, there wasn’t cause for alarm. Landon had used condoms on their night in Weldon and every time since.

She must’ve put on a few extra pounds. It would be a miracle if she hadn’t gained weight since she’d been indulging herself with never-ending deliciousness the entire time at Bosque Verde. It was the price of spending so much time with chefs, foodies, and vintners.

With her doubts and worries close to the surface, Aubrey stepped into the line of fire and stood before a camera for the first time in her life. Reality became eerie and blurred with blinding lights and black-eyed cameras pointing at her, their sharp intensity piercing and accusatory. Wow us, they demanded. Sweat pooled between her breasts and down her spine, and her mouth refused to form the lines written for her.

And the appalling scene repeated over and over again.

“Cut!”

Aubrey blinked. The director bolted out of his chair and stormed through the kitchen. When the lights finally dimmed, she recovered from her walking coma and realized she’d wasted everyone’s morning.

Wringing her cold fingers, she leaned over to Aria. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Don’t worry about Stan.” Aria winked at her. “He can be bad tempered, but he’s a good guy for the most part. He’ll come around.”

“Thanks. And sorry for wasting everyone’s time like this. I don’t know why I just can’t get the words out.” Aubrey would’ve buried her face in her hands if she weren’t afraid of messing up her makeup. Covergirl would kill her if she did.

“I got it.” Aria snapped her fingers, and her brown eyes lit up like lightbulbs. “That’s the problem. You’re struggling because