Until she swings open the door to find Talent Ridge on the other side.
What is it about a man in a hoodie that’s so irresistibly sexy?
Talent looks as exhausted as I feel, pale-faced and heavy-lidded. It pleases me to know he’s as affected by our night with whisky as I am. Despite how delicious he looks dressed down, it’s the bag of Chinese takeout in his hand that makes my mouth water.
Handsome man. Greasy food.
This would be an ideal situation if Inez were not standing between us.
His hair is wet like it was just washed, and he rakes his hand through it like a nervous boy about to be scolded for being spotted somewhere he’s not allowed.
“Well, hello you,” Inez says in a cooing tone. She looks over her shoulder at me. I sink into the cushions to hide.
“Hey,” Talent replies, equally confused and too sick to care about proper greetings. “Is Lydia here?”
Inez steps back, opening the door completely. Talent’s posture straightens when he sees me, and he holds the bag of food up as a sacrifice before entering my apartment. As horrified as I feel right now, my stomach growls once the scent of fried rice hits my nose. A small smile curves Talent’s lips.
“They were out of that soup you wanted,” he says. Talent strolls past Inez to the kitchen, where he lays out five or six different boxes of food. “But I got a little of everything.”
Inez gives herself whiplash, looking back and forth between Talent and me.
“I’m sorry, but are you staying?” Talent asks Inez. “I only grabbed two sets of chopsticks, but you can have mine if you want. I’ll use a fork. Or my hands.”
Opening up every drawer in my small kitchen until he finds a fork, he hits the jackpot and holds one up in victory. Talent doesn’t bother with a plate, twisting noodles on his fork directly from the box and slurping them between his lips.
“Fuck, these are hot,” he says, covering his mouth, as not to speak with food in it.
Why is he so adorable?
And why is he eating lo mein in my kitchen like this is normal and we’ve done this before?
It takes Inez a minute to process the scene, but she comes alive with a bright smile and twinkle in her eye. It’s hard not to be dazzled by Talent, even with a mouthful of oily food, but especially because of the black hoodie. Gorgeous in the tailored suits he’s normally seen in, Talent’s a dream toned down and as regular as the rest of us.
“We haven’t had the opportunity to meet in person,” Inez says. She steps forward with her hand extended. “Inez Ricci. We spoke on the phone.”
Talent’s gray eyes slide past Inez to me on the couch, where Dog and I watch the scene unfold like a pivotal act in a primetime melodrama. But this is my real life.
Dropping the fork, Talent cleans his hands on a napkin before reciprocating Inez’s shake and whispering, “Nice to meet you.”
Now he can put a face to the woman in charge of who I fuck for money.
In case he still has a hard time remembering what I do for a living, I speak up and say, “Inez is here because I puked on a client today and he isn’t happy with me. It’s kind of like I’m being written up for bad behavior.”
Inez laughs, shooing me away. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lydia. You didn’t throw up on him. You threw up on his marble floor.”
Chewing slowly, Talent nods and swallows his bite of food. He says, “We drank way too fucking much last night.”
Not the reaction I was going for. I was hoping he’d run for the door and never return. Leaving the Chinese food behind, of course. Talent’s relentlessness frustrates me, but it invigorates Inez.
“Oh, so you’re the one who kept my girl out too late on a work night,” she acknowledges.
Bachelor of the Year finally catches on and has the decency to look puzzled. His posture changes from hungover boyfriend-type to million-dollar CEO in the blink of an eye, and it’s for the best. He’s eating straight from the container in a small apartment among Grand Haven’s most powerful slut and her ringleader—he needs to act like it.
What more is there to say? Talent wises up and shuts up, aware of the compromising position we’re in. It’s all fun and games until the reality that you’ve been chasing after an escort smacks you in the face.
“Inez was just leaving.” I stand from the couch. Dog stays in place for the show. “Thanks for checking on me. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow to work out how we’ll handle today’s mishap.”
She doesn’t look away from Talent, and a little color returns to his complexion. Inez allows me to guide her toward the door, but she doesn’t leave without trapping me in a corner first.
“Before I go.” She lifts a finger in the air. A conniving grin spreads across her face, and she says, “We need to finish our conversation about Camilla. It’s a situation in dire need of our attention and it can’t wait. I’m sure Talent won’t mind if we sit down and work this out before I leave.”
I could strangle her, but instead I clench my teeth and insist everything can wait.
“No, I don’t think it can.” Inez digs her feet into the carpet. “The poor girl is all alone, Lydia. She needs our help.”
“Fine,” I say in a clipped tone. At this point, I’d agree to anything to get her to leave and hope I can talk her out of it in the morning.
Inez steps outside, and as the door closes in her face, she says, “I’ll bring her by sometime tomorrow.”
Barefoot and only dressed in the oversized shirt I sleep in, I can’t help but wonder how this picture must look to Inez. He shows up with food and I don’t have pants on. Will she think Talent and I are in a relationship? She’s never known me to have friends, let alone a date—not that this is a date, but looks are deceiving.
Or will her assumptions be graver? Will she think I’ve made some sort of side deal with Talent? Surely, a man as esteemed as he wouldn’t show up to a slut’s apartment without motive. She claims to trust me, but trust is fickle in our world.
“She seems … nice,” Talent says before biting into an eggroll. He’s a polite eater, chewing with his mouth closed and swallowing before adding, “Do you want me to make you a plate?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask. They’re the only words I can find and piece together from my jumbled brain. There are plenty of other things I’d like to say, such as, how do you know Chinese food is my favorite? What happened last night? And did you wear that hoodie to seduce me on purpose?
Talent has the decency to look confused. Lines form between his eyebrows as he opens my fridge and grabs a bottle of water like he’s done it before. “You invited me.”
“Liar.”
“Lydia, I wouldn’t show up to your apartment with your favorite food if you hadn’t asked me to.” He takes a drink of water, glaring at me darkly over the bottle. “I messaged you earlier to see if you wanted to cancel, but you didn’t text me back, so I assumed we were cool. You should have told me your fucking keeper was going to be here.”
I think back to the text I deleted without reading but dismiss my own responsibility in this as hot anger rises inside of me. There’s not a chance in hell I’d invite him over. No one besides Inez has ever been inside my apartment, and now Talent fucking Ridge knows his way around my kitchen.