I fall into a chair at Surfing Tacos where my best friend Teegan and her new friend group, courtesy of her boyfriend Leo, are sitting at a table in the back of the beachside restaurant.
Teegan’s eyes widen when she looks over. “Bad day?”
“You could say that. I had a phone interview with another magazine that I stumbled through. I’m definitely not getting the job. Then I find out Jackass Henry gave the Gingerbread Showdown gig to another writer because he’s his nephew or something.”
Teegan’s man, Leo, passes me a beer and I shoot him an expression of gratitude. These are his friends and significant others, one of whom includes Hollywood’s ‘it’ actress Layla Andrews. When Teegan first told me about these new women in her life, I wanted to wrap my arms around my bestie and lock her in my apartment. Turns out they’re all cool. We do shopping excursions together all the time now.
“I have connections,” Layla says, eyeing me over her drink. “Let me use them.”
I shake my head. See? How can you hate her even if she wears a size two and doesn’t show any signs of aging? “We’ve been over this. I want to earn it.”
“You will earn it, but sometimes people need a shove in the door.” Vance puts his arm around Layla with his free hand. His other hand colors with Layla’s daughter Via. The man can multi-task like no one else.
“I have some connections too. They’re in the book world, but I know some people who work for big papers. I could make a few calls.” Jagger’s wife Quinn hesitantly smiles because she doesn’t want to push me. As much as I like everyone at this table it’s hard being surrounded by people who are all so successful.
I mean, Layla’s an actress, Vance is a screenwriter, Quinn is an acclaimed author, and Jagger owns his own agency. Leo started his own company that manufacturers dog clothes that’s turned into a huge success and Teegan handles all his PR for him. And since they’re all the sweetest couples I get a toothache just looking at them.
Then there’s me, writing for the local magazine, What’s Up LA, and failing at life. I still live in my one-bedroom apartment and have to check my checking account before going out on the weekend.
Jagger puts his large hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Stop being stubborn and take the help.”
I blow out a breath and sip my beer.
Teegan wants to say something but luckily the waitress distracts and comes to ask for our food orders.
My phone dings in my purse but I ignore it because I’m not in the mood for any more shitty news. Especially since the best thing about coming to Surfing Tacos are the surfers who visit it regularly. And the blond hottie that just came in has my name written all over him.
But when my phone alerts to a voicemail, I tear my eyes away from the guy who, let’s be honest, would probably only be good for a one-night stand and that’s about all.
I pick up my phone and see it’s my boss Henry who called. Whatever jackass.
“Hey Soph, Henry. Turns out I will need you to cover the Gingerbread Showdown after all.”
“What happened to your nephew?” I can’t help my snide tone.
“Got something bigger I need him on.” I roll my eyes. “You need to report there tomorrow at ten am. It’s just for press coverage so they’ll direct you. Please, just don’t cause any waves. Call me when you finish with a recap.”
The call disconnects, and my mouth hangs open from his audacity to use what happened to me two years ago against me.
“What?” Teegan asks.
“Well, I got the gig much to Henry’s dismay, I think. And he pretty much implied that I cause trouble wherever I go.”
Teegan says nothing, and the table falls quiet. With two kids present we should declare it a miracle.
“We’re two of a kind.” Jagger laughs.
I smack him in the shoulder. “I’m nothing like you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Let’s go over some examples, shall we?”
“Jag,” Leo warns.
Jagger ignores Leo and turns to look me square in the eye. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Own it. What happened at the Winter Games?”
I huff. So, I got caught on a ski lift with my top pushed up to my neck and a professional skier’s tongue in my mouth. It could happen to anyone.
“And then there was the time you covered the Flea Market,” Jagger continues. Everyone chuckles.