Under the Lights

Unsurprisingly, he turns around and walks back in before he can even close my trailer door behind him. “Okay, fine. Just…keep it to yourself, will you?” He shuts the door and makes himself comfortable on my couch while I return to tending to my face in the mirror. “My mother’s pressuring me to do this reality show thing in order to keep my house, and I need to please her until I can get her to sign over the deed. But every single thing I do seems to piss her off, starting with how I dress. So can you please come over and help me find something that screams ‘let’s mutually cooperate’?”

Again, this seems ironic, since my mother’s response to me upon leaving the house this morning was, “Shouldn’t you wear a real shirt over that shirt?” But I’m pretty sure that Josh’s mom at least lives in this century, so this should be easy enough.

The question is, what do I want in return?

“I have plans with Zander tonight.” I say it to inform him that I’m busy, but as I do, I realize that maybe he can help me after all. Not that I would ever admit to Josh that our relationship is every bit as lame as he thinks it is. Or that we’ve barely done more than make out. But while meaningful relationships aren’t exactly Josh’s thing, getting them to move faster certainly is. If anyone can tell me how to kick this whole thing with Zander up a notch, sadly, it’s Josh Chester.

Of course, Josh rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Zander’s name. “Not to worry. I’ll get you to your date at a proper hour. What time are the kids eating the early bird special these days? Wouldn’t want him to miss out on any of his beauty sleep. How would his hair stand up that way otherwise?”

“Your jealousy is so cute. Sorry my boyfriend has a fan club of a zillion while you can barely get your agent to remember your name.” I examine my skin in the mirror, and, satisfied it looks makeup free, I rub on some moisturizing sunscreen. “But, yes, if you get me back on time — and do something for me — I’ll help you.”

“And what would you like me to do for you, K-drama? Lie down in the lot while you reverse your car over my face?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I admit. “But I’m reserving a favor. Right now. You are in my debt. Say it.”

He narrows his eyes.

I shrug and put my focus back on rimming my eyes with black liner.

“Fine. Ronen’s already here. Finish putting on your face, and you can follow us up.”

“Hey, you want my help, then you can drive me up and back to my car. If I’m sitting in the traffic up to Malibu, I’m not doing it behind the wheel.” The truth is, I hate driving long distances by myself, but that’s yet another factoid to file under “Things I Will Never Tell Josh Chester.”

“Fine,” he says with a huffy sigh. “Two minutes. And take it easy on the eyeliner — we’re going to my house, not your second job at the strip club.”

“You’re leaving now.”

He rolls his eyes but lets himself out, calling out “One minute!” behind him.

Chapter Nine Josh

You can’t wear that,” K-drama declares the second I step out of my walk-in closet. “Oh, come on.”

“Josh, you asked me here to help you pick an outfit. I’m telling you it’s not gonna be that one.”

“It’s just dinner with my parents,” I remind her, even though she’s right that this is exactly the reason I asked her over. Which was obviously a huge mistake, much like I can already tell this entire night is gonna be. “Who gives a shit what I wear?”

“Your mother does, from what you’ve told me, and if you wear a T-shirt and jeans to dinner — again — you’re not gonna get what you want.”

“What I want is for her to get off my back.”

“Well, your passive-aggressive clothing decisions aren’t going to make that happen.” She crosses her arms and nods toward my closet. “Pick something that actually requires a hanger. And make it designer. In a calming shade of blue. It’ll go a long way.”

I know she’s right, but I don’t need her knowing she’s right. “What I’m wearing is fine. I look good, don’t I?”

I do, but she just rolls her eyes and does her best “Vanessa Park is not impressed.” It’s pretty much her default reaction pose to anything I do. Ally would be proud. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says, and then she turns and walks out.

Goddammit. I wait until she’s gone and then I change into decent pants and a blue button-down. If I could avoid her seeing I’ve taken her advice, I’d do it in a second. She’s such a pain in my ass. But I know wearing this crap will make my mom feel like I’m actually listening to her and is my best shot at getting her to listen to me in return.