Under the Lights

She takes another sip of wine, then turns to my father. “How are your pork chops, dear?”

He mumbles something under his breath as he continues to send e-mails.

“Well, this has been lovely,” I declare, wiping off my mouth and dropping my napkin on the table. “I’ll be in touch.” Pushing back my chair, I enjoy the way the screech against the hardwood makes my mother wince, and then I pull out my phone and head back up to my old room. Much as I hate to admit it, I need a job that actually pays. I brace myself for a patented Ally “I told you so” and dial.

“What’s up, Josh?” She’s just out of breath enough for me to know I’ve interrupted something good. It gives me twisted joy to know Liam probably wants to punch me in the nuts right now.

“A script. Pick one. Whichever one you think will have the highest price tag attached. Fuck, pick all of ’em. Just talk to Holly and set up the auditions.”

She’s trying not to laugh, but she’s a lousy actress. “For real? Will you actually show up?”

“Yeah. Whenever. You know my schedule.”

“Better than I know my own,” she says cheerfully. “Anything else?”

There’s a fumbling, and then I hear, “Yes.” Liam’s grabbed her phone. “Don’t worry, Chester. I’ll pass along your very important message requiring Ally to keep making out with me now. I assure you she’s doing a fantastic job.” Then he hangs up on me.

I sigh and text Ronen to come back and pick me up. I need to get out of this house and into a bottle of Patrón.

Chapter Two Vanessa

Tell me again why you’re even bothering to try to dig Josh Chester out of his apathetic little hole when you have about a billion better things to do right now?” I slide back into the passenger seat of Ally’s car, skinny iced hazelnut latté in hand, and check my reflection in the side mirror. Oof. I need to log some tanning hours, stat.

She gets in the driver’s seat and puts her own vanilla latté in the cup holder between us. “Trust me — he needs this. And he will step up. Eventually. I know Josh.”

“Which is still just so weird.” I take my first sip while she starts the car. “I can’t believe you’ve survived working for him for over a year. I don’t think anyone other than his driver’s done that, and he’s Israeli army.”

“Josh isn’t so bad once you get past the absurd requests, constant slutting it up, putdowns of my wardrobe, the fact that he’s impossible when he doesn’t wanna do something, and the late-night phone calls I’m pretty sure he times perfectly for maximum piss-Liam-off potential.” She makes a face. “Okay, yeah, he sort of sucks.”

I laugh as I reach over to turn on the radio and find something fun. “Should I be offended that it’s far longer than I lasted as your boss?”

“Considering you’ve lasted fifteen years as my best friend? I think not.”

Taylor Swift. Perfect. I sit back and take another sip of my drink as she pulls out of the spot. “Yeah, but now you’re gonna go find a new best friend at Columbia,” I say sourly, giving the final word extra fancy-voice oomph. “Just watch — in two seconds, you and your new roomie will be total besties.”

I’m not sure if it sounds like I’m kidding. I’m not sure I am. I’m not sure I care.

She grins. “Van, no one is taking your place. You think Adrienne Hughes from Montclair, New Jersey, would ever act out scenes from my favorite movies to keep me company after I had a root canal? Or hire me as her assistant and tutor to help me pay for college when I was in dire need? Please.”

Hmph, I suppose that makes me feel a little better. “Adrienne Hughes from Montclair, New Jersey, huh? You already know her name and everything?”

“Just got my assignment yesterday. That’s all I know, though. I haven’t e-mailed her or anything.”

“Good. Don’t,” I say with a smile, and she laughs.

“I don’t know who’s more possessive — you or Josh.”

“Me or Josh?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Hello, how about your totally smitten boyfriend?”

She shrugs. “Actually, Liam’s been pretty cool with…everything.”

If I hadn’t been best friends with Alexandra Duncan for pretty much my entire life, I would’ve bought her “isn’t that nice?” tone. But I have been and I’m not believing it for a second. “And you wish he were a little less cool with it, huh?”

“It’d be nice to feel like he’s gonna miss me a little,” she admits sheepishly.

I can’t help it — I crack up so hard I actually snort.

“What the hell, Van? You don’t get to pry into my brain and then laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that — you’re kidding, right? You don’t think Liam’s gonna miss you like crazy? Are we talking about the same boy? The one who actually attempted to make you dinner last night? The one who talked to you about buying a place in Manhattan—”

“He hasn’t mentioned that in months.”