Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
When we’re done swimming, I change back into street clothes, twist my hair into a tie, then pack up my computer. As Maddox walks me out, I check my email on my phone. “Oh,” I say, stopping in the front hallway, surprised to see a message from Sidney Stinson. The producer of Fabio’s List wrote to me again.
I read it out loud to Maddox. “I’d really love to chat with you for our doc, Ellie. I know it’s a sensitive topic and you’re understandably cautious, but I promise to treat the interview with respect and gravitas. If you’re willing, I’d love to hear back by Monday to set things in motion.” I finish the note with nerves flickering through me. When I’m done, I meet Maddox’s steady gaze. “What do you think? Should I do it?”
Maddox has such a level head, and he’s always given solid business advice. “If it matters to you,” he says diplomatically.
Does this show matter to me? Does the topic speak to me? “I didn’t want to at first, but I’m actually sort of considering it now. Gabe gave me some good advice on it this morning,” I say.
Maddox smiles and then rubs my shoulder. “This guy sounds good for you?” His voice pitches up at the end, making it a question. Could it ever work out with Gabe?
But I know the answer—I can’t start to rely on Gabe too much.
I have friends like Maddox to turn to. He’ll be in my life after this week and Gabe will return to the friends-of-the-family zone. He’ll be someone I see once or twice a year over eggnog and veggie barbecues.
As I walk home, I tap out a reply to the producer. I’ll think about it over the next few days.
Then I set myself a reminder to follow-up. So I don’t become one of those people who leaves other producers hanging. That’s not who I want to be, and I don’t want to treat Sidney that way.
There. That’s done. I’ll put it out of my mind for the rest of the night.
Tonight is for my last private date with Gabe.
That’s a sobering thought, that we’re ending our fling after the party tomorrow.
But I don’t want to get all up in my feels on our last evening together when it’s just us. Besides, all good things end, I suppose. My time in New York came to an end. My show Unfinished Business lasted a few seasons. My friendships are shifting.
It’s fine.
It’s all just fine.
Once I’m at my house, I let Gigi out for a quick bathroom break, shower, and pull on a red tank top that shows off my stomach. Then a cute black skirt. I show Gigi the outfit, and I’m sure she approves.
After I swipe on some makeup, I flash back on Gabe’s text from earlier.
When I take you out in public, I get a thrill that I’m the only one who knows the private side of you.
That thrills me too, so I pack a little something extra for tonight in a canvas bag.
Then I take my favorite person for a walk. Gigi struts around Venice Beach in her pink rhinestone harness, looking like the badass queen of California. We walk along the main drag, checking out storefronts, soaking in the vibe—the street is teeming with artsy types with colorful tattoos and copious bangles, surfer dudes with long hair and smoothies, and guys and gals in tailored business attire too.
“This is our new home, girl. I’ll find all my story inspiration here,” I say as we near The Happiest Hours. That was the bar where I saw Gabe a few nights ago—that set these nights of play into motion. I didn’t notice the bar had a back patio the first time I walked past it. But there are ping-pong tables set up and a handful of women in shorts and bikinis are playing the game, trash talking each other. I love a game of ping-pong, so I’ll have to return sometime soon. Does Gabe play ping-pong? He’s an athlete, so I bet he’d have a blast playing.
It’d be fun to return with him.
Cool it, Ellie.
That’s not what our fling is about.
I’ll return with…Maddox. Yes, a friends’ night out will be good. I head down the block, nearing Rachel’s jewelry shop. Maybe she’ll play.
The sign on the window says, “Well-behaved four-legged friends are welcome.”
“That’s you,” I say to Gigi, then scoop her up and head inside.
“Hi, new friend,” I call out. “Do you play ping-pong?”
Rachel looks up from her tablet on the counter, then brightens. There must be a lull in traffic since her boutique is mostly empty. “Hey, you! Good to see you again, Ellie. And yes, I do,” she says, then eyes me up and down. “Someone’s going on a date tonight.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You have a pre-date glow about you,” she says.