“I guess the real question is, when straight LA boys wear make-up, how do we stay prettier than them?” I added.
Toni laughed, then dropped her head into her hands and moaned, “I’m such a loser.”
“Don’t be silly. He didn’t look like he wore make-up.” I tried not to laugh. “I mean, he was pretty cute.”
“Loser!” she cried.
“Do you think it’ll come out? I like those sheets.”
“It had to be tanning cream. His chest was like a bright orange color,” Toni yelled down the hallway. “And he was totally hairless, like he’d shaved. . . or waxed. Hey, Kyle, does Roger wear make-up? On his chest?”
We heard a groan from the couch. Guilt swept through me as I thought of Grant. Then, realizing I was still in my dress, and my undergarments were still intact, I felt slightly relieved.
Kyle walked into the bedroom to join us. On the back of his hair were mini-dusters, and his right cheek was prominently creased from the couch pillows. He looked like a teenager.
“I should probably go,” he said, trying to play it cool. “So, uh, your digits?”
Something about dating a guy who carries a mirror in his back pocket didn’t interest me. Then again, what if Grant really had changed his mind about me? What if I had been just a fling? What if I was destined to be alone for the rest of my life? Even the questions were depressing! And the mere sight of Craig had sent me slipping into self-demolition. Poor Grant. I don’t deserve a boyfriend. I suddenly felt stupid and immature. Girls back home were getting married and having babies, while I was single in LA and crashing out with my own boy baby.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to lighten an awkward moment. “Not necessary.”
He bowed, did a half-wave, and walked out the door. I peered through the window to make sure he was gone. Toni giggled, waiting for me to join in on a good laugh, as if we could have carried on like this forever.
But I didn’t laugh. My face became serious. “We didn’t—”
“No, you didn’t,” she said, still smiling.
“So what then?” I asked earnestly.
“I don’t know,” Toni said blankly.
“Did I kiss him?”
“Not that I saw.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on! Spill!”
“It’s all good,” Toni said, sounding a bit riled.
“Come on, Toni! I kind of need to know if I just destroyed my relationship with Grant. I mean, I really like him!”
“Believe it or not, Jane, I was busy with my own thing.” Toni was now fully wound up. “It’s not always about you!”
“Who said it was?” I said, irritated. “I pick up the pieces whenever you get drunk, which is a helluva lot more often!”
“Fine. You want the truth?” Toni was now in my face. “You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even notice Kyle.”
“Really?” I said, fully relieved.
“Yeah, and crying into your drink about how Craig had dumped you, Alex had used you, and Grant was an MIA pecker-head, just like the rest of them.”
“I said all that?” I cringed, now backing off.
“Mm, hmm. Consider yourself lucky. You’ve got, or had, the choice between two awesome guys. Not even the hottest chicks in LA are so blessed! Every one of them’s looking for a decent guy, and this town has a massive shortage of them. Then there’s you with a goddamn horseshoe up your ass and you don’t even recognize it! You see Craig and get all blubbery. One look at that asshole and you fall into the pits of despair! Frankly, it’s getting old.” Toni looked at me, her nostrils flaring.
“I’m sorry,” I said, relenting.
Toni exhaled forcefully.
“Toni, I’m sorry,” I said again. “I had no idea.”
“Well, now you do.” Toni softened her tone. “Let’s just forget about it. You know I love you.”
She reached over to hug me. I felt like an ass.
“Nothing like a little hangover to get our juices going.” I sighed into her ear as we hugged. “Thank you for being so honest.”
From that moment forward, I decided my life would be about two things: advancing my career and making good with Grant. No more sulking over losers or acting like an infant. Good-bye self-absorbed, insecure Jane. Hello successful, together Jane.
“Sorry about your sheets,” Toni giggled.
We grabbed our coffees and plunked ourselves onto the balcony lounge chairs. The sun poked through my angel trumpet while passing cars formed our morning backdrop.
“Do you think he’ll call?” Toni asked.
“Make-up boy? Do you want him to?” I said, surprised.