Beneath the Glitter: A Novel (Sophia and Ava London) (24 page)

Sophia frowned slightly. “I thought the motto was always be prepared.”

“Not in Los Angeles.”

Sophia laughed.

The waiter poured the champagne and set the glasses in front of each of them.

Hunter raised his. “To Los Angeles’ newest darling, Sophia London. May all your enterprises rise to the heavens like the gilded bubbles in your glass.”

Sophia began to giggle, thinking that sounded like something Giovanni would say. Only Giovanni would be smiling at her instead of frowning, the way Hunter was.

“I was being serious,” he said.

“Oh. I—” She stopped laughing. “I’m not good with strong emotion. Thank you. That was lovely.” She pressed her lips together to keep from cracking up again. Sitting there holding the fancy champagne and talking in bad metaphors, Hunter seemed suddenly less suave and more pompous. “Very—thoughtful.”

Apparently satisfied, he smiled at her over the top of his champagne flute and took a sip. “I meant it.” He twirled the champagne flute around in his fingers, studying the gilded bubbles she imagined, then put it down and leaned toward her.

“Sophia, I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve been spending together. And I think you’ve enjoyed it too.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed.

“You’re—well, you’re the whole package. Beautiful and smart and accomplished. Perfect. Everything I want in a girlfriend.”

She felt a rising tide of panic. “I’m flattered. And if I were going to date, you would be exactly who I’d want. But I’m not.”

“You
weren’t,
” he corrected. “You can start anytime you want, can’t you?”

The panicky feeling intensified. She knitted her fingers together in her lap. “I suppose but—” She swallowed. “I can’t be that person for you. The perfect girl. You see me as someone I’m not.”

“That’s the point,” he told her. “You are to me.”

“But not to myself.”

“Don’t you want to be with someone who adores everything about you?”

Didn’t she? Wasn’t that precisely what she’d said she always wanted? “Of course. But I—I have to adore me too.”

“I can adore you enough for both of us. Sophia, think about it. We’re perfect together.”

“That’s very sweet,” she said.

“I don’t want to be sweet,” he said roughly. “Sweet is what you call kittens and puppies. I’m a man, and I need you to see me that way.”

“What are you talking about? I told you from the beginning I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.”

“And I thought I was fine with that, until I fell for you. Hard.” A wistful smile played on his lips. “I hoped you felt the same way.”

“I … I don’t know how I feel, Hunter. This is so … unexpected. I feel like there’s no way I can start a relationship right now, with everything that’s going on. But I couldn’t stand to lose you as a friend.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “That’s the thing, I don’t think I can handle being ‘just friends’ with you anymore. Deep down, I don’t think you want that either.” And without giving her time to object, he grabbed her and pulled her in, covering her lips with his.

Hunter kissed the way he did everything: with precision, skill, and control. When he released her, it took Sophia a moment to catch her breath. She brought her fingers to her lips and met his eyes.

He grinned. “I told you. You can’t say you didn’t feel something between us.”

“I did,” she said. She could smell his aftershave on her skin. “I—I think I need to go home.”

She stood up, pushed her chair back, walked around the table, crossed the floor, and entered the lobby. She was conscious of her body, of each motion being performed with fastidious exactness. Her mind focused on that, she imagined, so it did not have to focus on the shock of Hunter’s kiss.

She stepped out to the valet parking desk. “Would it be possible—”

“I beg your pardon,” the valet said.

Sophia realized she was whispering. “Would it be possible,” she tried again and it still came out that way, as if she’d lost her voice. The valet leaned closer to hear. “To get a taxi,” she said.

“Sure.”

He lifted the whistle he had around his neck and was about to blow it when Hunter came out and said, “She doesn’t need a taxi. I’ll drive her.”

“Are you sure?” Sophia whispered.

Hunter looked hurt. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, I just thought—” Sophia resisted the urge to glance back toward the restaurant. “Thank you.”

Hunter cleared his throat and with a sad smile said, “What are friends for?”

“Excuse me, Sophia?” She swung around at the sound of Giovanni’s voice behind her. “I believe you require these.” He handed her the wrap and purse which she must have left at the table when she fled. As she took them he said in a lower voice, “You are okay?”

Sophia couldn’t deny the spark she felt when her fingers grazed Giovanni’s. She nodded at him, the memory of how she’d treated him the last time they were together making it hard for her to meet his eyes. “Of course I’m okay,” she said.

Hunter pulled fifty dollars out of his wallet and held it toward Giovanni. “Thanks for bringing those out to her, champ.”

Giovanni ignored both Hunter and his money, keeping his focus on Sophia. “You are sure you are alright? If you would like, I can drive you home.”

Tension crackled hotly between the two men but Sophia found herself feeling suddenly chilled. Gratefully, she saw Hunter’s car being pulled around toward them. She gave Giovanni a smile and said, “Thank you, I’m fine,” and slid into the passenger seat.

Studying Hunter’s ideal profile as it was outlined by the headlights of oncoming cars, Sophia wondered if maybe he was right and they really were perfect for each other. When she’d been little, she had always imagined that being a grown-up meant candlelit dinners with champagne and a handsome prince who would gaze lovingly into her eyes and tell her she was perfect. And, as though he’d read her childhood fantasy, that’s exactly what he’d given her.

So why had she run? Why didn’t she say yes? What was wrong with her?

By the time they reached her house, the tension in the car had dissipated and what little was left evaporated when Hunter turned off the ignition and said, “Well, I’d be lying if I told you that turned out the way I’d planned.”

Sophia checked his expression, saw he was grinning, and grinned back. “I’m sorry—” she began again.

He shook his head. “No, it’s my turn to give you an apology. I—I shouldn’t have kissed you. You weren’t ready for that. I rushed you. That was unfair and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s just—spending time with you, I can’t help it. I know you’re not ready, I do, and I’ll wait. But—” He looked at his hands. “I wanted you to know what I think of you. What I really think of you.”

Again, like with her girlhood fantasy, he was saying all the right words, doing all the right things. She knew he wanted her to say that she’d made a mistake, that she did want to move their relationship to the next level.
Do it,
she told herself.
What do you have to lose? He’s done so much for you. He adores you. What more do you want?

Sophia smoothed the hem of her dress with her fingers. “I think you’re pretty perfect too. You’re exactly how I used to imagine my boyfriends. But I do need more time.”

He looked at his watch. “It’s nine thirty-five. Is ten minutes enough?”

She laughed and let him walk her to her door.

“Good night,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be waiting.”

She should be falling head over heels in love with him, Sophia thought as she watched his broad shoulders disappear down the stairs.

The chill she’d felt earlier returned, and with it a sense of being hollow. Not fragile just … empty. Lost. She stood in the dark on the landing listening as Hunter’s footsteps faded, listening to the low hum of traffic that never stopped, taking large gulps of the warm night air.

And shivering uncontrollably.

*   *   *

Ava was in bed, making a careful study of her ceiling, when her phone rang. Too lazy to turn her head, she reached for it and dragged it toward her and held it up over her eyes. Dalton.

“Sophia isn’t here,” she said when she answered. “And I don’t know where she is.”

Dalton sounded confused. “Are you worried about her?”

“No, we have separate lives.” Ava kept her tone breezy, mature. “I leave her alone and she leaves me alone.”

“That’s a lot of leaving,” Dalton said.

Ava brushed that off. “Whatever. I just wanted you to know.”

“Sure.” Dalton paused. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fantastic,” Ava chirped. “Why? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason,” he said, sounding like he had something caught in his throat. “You’re acting totally and completely normal.”

“Of course I am.” Why was he being so weird?

“Okay. Well, now that we have that established”—he went on, still sort of choking—“I was actually calling because we’re scheduling slots for the shelter’s phone-a-thon and I was wondering if you’d take a shift. Or ten. You can do it pretty much anytime you want. No one seems to be signing up.”

Ava pushed a pillow under her neck. “What happens if no one does it?”

“The shelter closes.”

“Oh,” Ava said. And started to cry.

Dalton sounded alarmed. “Ava? Are you okay?”

She sniffled. “It’s just thinking of all those homeless animals with no one to love them. Abandoned. Left all alone in the world.” She started to cry harder.

Now Dalton sounded even more agitated. “You know you’re not alone in the world, right?”

Ava heard Sophia’s key in the lock. “I have to go,” she told Dalton.

“Wait, are you—”

She switched off her light, pulled the covers over her, and turned her back to the door, pretending to be asleep. If Sophia wanted to see her, she could make an effort.

*   *   *

Sophia had stopped shivering by the time she entered the apartment, but she still felt chilled. Confused. Lonely. The sensation had been a dull ache for days, but tonight it had exploded, like fireworks over a city, illuminating how empty she was inside.

Standing outside of Ava’s door, she hesitated. Then, afraid to try the knob, afraid of finding it locked again, she pivoted and went to her room.

She didn’t turn on any lights but undressed in the dark and, still in the dark, went into the bathroom. She washed her face, washing off the smell of Hunter’s cologne, the feel of him kissing her, wanting to wash away the whole night if she could. Then she wrapped herself in her robe, gathered Snowfall—who smelled very clean—into the crook of her arm, and went to stand by the window.

“Remember the day we met?” she whispered into Snowbear’s fur. “If it wasn’t for Ava, who wanted to cheer me up and knew exactly what I needed, you and I never would have met.”

An ache started to build in her chest. The happy memory only reminding her how different everything was now.

As she looked through the window at the Los Angeles sky, the reflection of a face stared back at her. A girl with long blond hair and blue eyes. A girl people would call pretty and sometimes even beautiful.

She knew it was her face, all the pieces were there. But looking at it felt like she was looking at the face of a stranger.

LonDOs

Watching
Hoarders
with Popcorn and Snowflake

Grilled-cheese sandwiches and curly fries

Trying to teach Popcorn to walk on two legs

Clorox Disinfecting Wipes

Lush Comforter Bubble Bar

Being in bed by 9:45

LonDON’Ts

Popcorn and Snowangel practicing their sharing skills—with your grilled-cheese sandwich

Thinking that if one order of curly fries makes you feel good, two orders will make you feel better

Popcorn’s reaction to attempts to teach him to walk on two legs

Snowman’s foray into art

21

kiss off

Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica was in the process of being transformed into a massive pedestrian aquarium for the Message in a Bottle product launch. Nothing of this scale had ever been attempted for a makeup line before, and the press was covering it like a breaking news story. It didn’t hurt that both London sisters had recently made the front screen of all the major gossip blogs, as well as the covers of several weekly magazines.

Sophia hadn’t realized that there were photographers at Mr. C the night she and Hunter were there, or that her dress was quite as low cut from the side, which was the angle the photographer favored while getting pictures of their kiss, her face afterward, and her flight from the room.

Ava was flipping through the latest copy of her favorite gossip magazine, which had somehow managed to do an entire spread on the incident even though it had only happened three days earlier. They were sitting side by side in the hair and makeup trailer that had been put up next to the stage. The occasional ping of a hammer from outside and the low hum of the generator were the only sounds inside the trailer. Except the swoosh every time Ava turned a page of the magazine. Or turned back to a page. And then forward. In fact, as far as Sophia could tell, Ava had now looked at the article about the dinner with Hunter sixteen times.

When she turned the page again, Sophia had had enough. “You don’t have to gloat.”

Ava looked up from her magazine. “Okay. About what?”

“About that.” Sophia waved her fingers toward the paper. “About me being the one to end up with the embarrassing photos that launched a thousand gossip stories about my relationship.”

The frown line appeared between Ava’s eyes. “Do you really think I’d sit here and be happy that something you dreaded happened to you?”

Sophia was taken aback by the heat in her tone. “I didn’t, but then I saw you flipping back and forth, over and over, and—what else could I think?”

“You could think I was cheating on the Jumble,” Ava said, holding the paper up to show Sophia the Jumble on one page and the answer on another. She dropped the paper. “Or you could think the worst of me. It’s nice to know which one you’d choose.”