Meanwhile, I was boxed into a conversation with an editor, asking me why I’d quit the wedding show and wanting leads so he could get himself on Fix Your Life. When I peeked over my shoulder, I noticed Grant sandwiched between Toni and a group of guys doing tequila shooters.
“Grant, honey,” Toni slurred, “I heard you’ve got an in on an adventure show.”
She hiccupped and slipped her hand across his chest, giggling, unaware of my gaze. Grant smiled nervously.
“So, can you get me on the show? I’d give Jane a run for her money. Tee hee.” Toni drooled into Grant’s ear. “I’ll make it worth your while.” She winked.
“Excuse me?” I said, making my presence known.
“Hey, sweetie.” Toni leaned over to give me a kiss. “We were just talking about you.”
Grant did the “uncomfortable guy” shrug that said “I didn’t do it!”
“Toni, what’s up?” I attempted to remain calm. “This is not cool—”
Toni interrupted, each word smeared clumsily against the next. “Grant, isn’t Jane the best? You know, she’s the greatest producer, like the greatest. We’re exactly alike. Same school of producing, I swear. Right, Janey?” Toni wrapped her bare arm around my shoulder and kissed me sloppily on the cheek as her halter-top gaped, revealing her fleshy breasts.
“That’s enough, Toni,” I said, clenching my teeth.
“And Grant, Jane is so in love with you. Which means a lot because she’s had a few men. Know what I mean? In fact, a lot of men—”
“Okay!” I interrupted, “Toni, I can’t believe you.”
I wanted to kill Toni. I’m “in love”? I never use the L-word first.
“Jane and I are roomies,” Toni gurgled. “We’re a team now.” Toni pulled Grant and me in tightly and began a doggy-style hump between us. “Can’t have one without the other. Right, sweetie?”
By now, half the kitchen was watching. I’d never seen Toni so base.
“Okay, stop!” I yanked myself away from her and pushed through the crowd.
Grant found me stewing outside on the sidewalk with a Big Gulp-sized lime margarita in hand.
“Why didn’t you just take the whole pitcher?” he joked.
“I did,” I sighed. “Does the entire party think I do threesomes?”
Grant laughed. “Just the pervs,” he said, caressing my back. “Jane, it’s not that bad. Obviously, she’s drunk.”
“I thought she was. . . one of my best friends.”
“Maybe she’s jealous or just insecure. Talk to her in the morning when she’s sober. You’ll work it out.”
His eyes had a way of softening me, of melting my shell, as if he always could and would protect me. Even Toni’s ridiculousness didn’t affect him. He had not the smallest speck of suspicion about his little Janey. This guy really liked me. Everything would be okay.
Grant was still asleep. There were melted candles, a condom wrapper, and two wine glasses sitting on my nightstand. The sun beamed a harsh white light through cracks in the blinds. The sound of crowds on the beach suddenly came alive—they hadn’t been audible a minute ago, when my eyes were closed. I crawled out of bed, fumbled for my baby-blue terrycloth housecoat, and ran to the beckoning phone.
As I reached for “hello,” the blood drained abruptly from my crown. Sparkly white flashes spun like tinsel around my periphery—the dreaded hangover head-rush. I stumbled to catch my balance, propping myself against the table in an attempt to compose myself for whoever was at the other end, and silently promised myself I’d get on the wagon. . . immediately afterward.
“Hey, is this Jane?”
“Yeah, who’s this?” I didn’t recognize the voice.
“Alex. Forget me already?”
“Oh my God. Alex,” I whispered his name so Grant wouldn’t hear. We hadn’t actually talked voice-to-voice since France. “Of course not. Nice to hear from you! How are you?”
I tried to sound enthusiastic while I buckled onto the hardwood floor, kneeling, my arms wrapped around my stomach, waiting for the pain to go away, and wondering why I’d answered the phone in the first place.
“Were you still sleeping? I thought you’d have gone for a swim to the pier and back by now, little Miss Sporty Spice.”
“Yeah, right. It was a late night. We had a bit of a celebration. You’ll never guess why.”
“You’re on Fix Your Life?”
“Yup. Their new field producer. I’m the only one. That’s it. It’s big.”
“Congratulations! Meg told me she had hundreds of resumés.”
“Thank you so much for the hook-up.”
“Of course. Hey, we’ve got to celebrate,” Alex said. “What are you doing tonight, now that I’m finally back in town?”