Chat Love (6 page)

Danni and I join them, sitting close to the guys so we can hear them over the loud music.

Ian continues his story, “This girl was wild. We did it in every position: missionary, cowgirl, doggie-style, even standing.”

I groan out, “Enough, Ian.” It’s typical for Ian to be bragging about sex: when he’s not having it, he’s talking about it.

“Did you do the shocker?” Corey asks Ian, completely ignoring me.

I throw my hands up in the air. “I don’t want to know!”

Oblivious, Corey continues, “You know, she was flirting with me too. Maybe I should give her a call.”

I ask, “You don’t mind sharing the same girl? Isn’t there some guy code against that? ‘Don’t stick your dick where your friend’s has been?’ I thought I heard Ian say that once.”

Danni chimes in, patting Corey on the back. “I guess not, because that’s how Corey gets laid.”

I look up and see Autumn pushing her way through the crowded floor and I wave my hand to get her attention. She shoves a couple of women who are busy staring at Ian and Corey and sits down at the table. “Sorry I’m late; John didn’t want me to leave him.”

Danni replies, “You know, you could have bought John here. We’d all like to meet this mystery man.”

Autumn blushes and shakes her head. “No, it’s too soon for him to meet my friends. I’ve only been on two dates with him.”

“But you talk to him all the time,” I remind her.

She changes the subject, “Anyway, how was your date last night, Lu?”

Everyone stops drinking and looks at me curiously.
Damn it, Autumn
, I think to myself.

Danni laughs, “He picks real winners.” I narrow my eyes at her. She’s the one that made me go on that stupid blind date in the first place. Because of her, I kissed a snot-eater.

I hear Wayne ask Danni why she’s laughing.

Ian snaps his fingers as if he knows the answer and I turn to him. “You slept with him,” he proudly announces.

Autumn looks at me with disappointment. “You had sex with him already? Now he will never take you seriously.”

“I didn’t have sex with him,” I mumble.

Now Autumn looks confused. “OK, so what happened?”

Sheepishly, I tell the truth. “I saw him pick his nose and eat it.” I cringe and take another swig of my drink.

Corey starts laughing in the middle of a sip and spits out some of his drink. The rest of the group joins in as I sit quietly.

Wayne leans in and quietly asks me, “Are you sure he wasn’t just scratching his nose?”

I look up at him and feel my face flush from the embarrassment. “No, I saw him pick his nose, examine whatever he’d found, and then eat it.” Just explaining what I’d seen makes me nauseous again.

Giggling, Ian says, “Maybe he was having dessert.”

Autumn shakes her head and with complete seriousness says, “If someone is going to do something like that then they should at least wait till they are at home. I would have had the same reaction, Lu.”

After another minute of them laughing and poking fun at me, Danni suddenly announces, “I once dated a guy who wanted to pee on me.”

Everyone goes silent, just staring at Danni with shocked expressions. After a few seconds, Corey asks, “Where did that come from?”

“We were talking about gross things people do,” Danni says without shame.

Not wanting this conversation to get any worse, especially considering some of the contributions I imagine Ian and Corey could make, I say, “Anyway, he called me two times today and I’m not going to call him back.”

Autumn claps her hands excitedly, “But he called you already? Oh, Lu, he might be a keeper.”

“More like a picker,” Wayne mutters.

Corey adds in, “And he eats it!” He pauses in thought, scratching his chin. “Just think, what if he picked his nose before you guys kissed? Did you taste anything strange while you were kissing him?”

I feel vomit rise in my throat but I swallow it, tasting the cranberry juice I’d just had with my vodka. I turn to glare at Corey when I see that he and Ian are already distracted, looking away in the same direction. I turn to see what they are looking at and see two women who have been staring at our table for most of the night. Both are staring back and trying to look sexy: the blonde with her hand on her hip while the brunette licks the straw in her drink. Both are wearing tight dresses to show off their curves.

Ian and Corey grab their drinks and whisper something to Wayne. He nods his head knowingly, and Ian and Corey get up and make their way over to the two women. We all watch them as they turn on the charm. After less than a minute, Ian whispers something into the blonde’s ear and she takes the lime from her drink and puts it in her mouth. Ian leans over to kiss her and pulls away with the lime between his teeth. The two boys have now parted: Ian with his blonde and Corey taking shots with the brunette, his arm placed casually around her waist.

After watching them for a few more minutes, I begin to feel like a voyeur and ask Wayne, “Why aren’t you like that?”

“Like what?” he replies.

I nod toward Ian and Corey, both still engaged in their flirtatious routine.

Danni chimes in, “He’s still not over Laurie.”

“No, I’m over Laurie. I’m just too busy with work, so I don’t have time to act like Ian and Corey, let alone find somebody to actually date. And I don’t want a one-nightstand because they’re not worth the trouble.” Wayne swallows the last drops of his drink, pouring himself another. “I don’t want someone for just a night. I want to meet someone that I can see myself with every day, and I don’t see anyone here who fits that profile.”

I raise my drink in the air. “Yes, Wayne, you just described what I’m looking for! I want someone that I can have a future with.”

Wayne and Autumn nod their heads in understanding. I hear Danni groan and I turn to her. She shakes her head, “No, no, no. We are in our twenties; we should be worried about where we are going to party next, not who we want to marry!”

Wayne argues, “In two years we are going to be thirty. It’s time we grow up and get serious with someone.”

Danni grabs my arm, “If you want to meet someone, I can introduce you to …”

I cut her off. “No, Danni. Your boy toys are not my style. No models, no actors, and no singers. You’ve set me up with all of them and they’re either all conceited, full of issues, or only interested in having sex for the night. I don’t want that, Danni!” I take a deep breath, trying to keep from getting too flustered. “I just want to meet a normal guy who I am attracted to, who my family likes, and who can make me laugh. I want someone who can be my best friend, and who I can trust.”

Wayne adds, “And who doesn’t pick his nose and eat it.” He smiles at me, showing that he understands what I mean.

Suddenly, Autumn chimes in. “You should try Chat Love.” We all turn and look at her, surprised that she was so blunt. She shrugs and continues, “I don’t have time to go looking for a guy so I found that site, filled out a questionnaire, made a profile, and waited for guys to respond. It practically does all the work for you. There are so many people that use it that you’re bound to at least meet someone you like.”

Danni looks past Autumn’s shoulder and bites her lip. “I’m not desperate yet.” Autumn looks hurt. “No offense,” Danni quickly adds as she gets up from her seat, adjusting her dress. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a very hot man looking for me.” She walks over to a guy who I can only assume is Elijah, and the two begin talking.

“Well, at least one of us is happy,” Wayne says with a grin, nodding toward Danni. “How about some shots?”

Today is Monday morning and I’m still sore from Saturday night. I am currently in a dressing room listening to the big-breasted and gorgeous actress and singer Jenine Graham list all of the things that Patrick Tyson is not allowed to ask her about. Patrick Tyson is the host of the
Big Apple Morning Show
, an hour-long program where famous guests talk to Patrick about upcoming projects they’re working on. I work as the talent scout, and it’s my job to try and get the most popular and interesting guests to come to our show. Thankfully, Danni has numerous connections, so I tend to do well at finding guests. Our morning show is fairly new—less than three month son the air—so everyone is working under a lot of pressure to help the show reach number one.

In her raspy voice Jenine decrees, “No questions about my divorce.”

Her young assistant adds, “She means her last two divorces.”

Jenine continues, “No questions about my boobs.”

Her assistant adds, “Or plastic surgery in general.”

“No questions about rehab,” Jenine demands.

Her assistant chimes in, “Or alcohol and drugs.”

By this point, I’m beginning to wonder what our host
can
ask about.

Jenine stands up and examines herself closely in the mirror. For a woman who is only a few years older than me, you can see how a career in show-business has gone to her head. In magazines and movies, she always appears flawless. But in person, it’s easier to see how much work she’s had done. Despite her best efforts, she still somehow looks twenty years older. I make a quick mental note to never consider plastic surgery, although I know that Danni would try and convince me otherwise.

In Jenine’s case, I assume that the agents to blame are drugs and alcohol; they can really take a toll on someone’s appearance. She has more wrinkles than a woman in her early thirties should, her skin almost resembles leather because of constant UV exposure, and her hair looks thin from frequent bleaching. Overall, her body looks frail from a lack of nutrition and her eyes look lifeless.

Jenine turns to the makeup artist, “I can still see my pimple.”

The assistant leans in closer to me and whispers, “Also, no questions about skin. Jenine is really sensitive about her skin.”

After a few more minutes of talking to Jenine, I leave the dressing room and walk to the set, where I see Jackson Foster talking to Patrick Tyson. Jackson is one of the most arrogant, smug, and self-assured men I have ever met. For some reason, he thinks that he can do whatever he wants without failing, both professionally and personally. He makes Ian look like a saint. Jackson is one of the producers for the show so I have the pleasure of working with him every day.

I stand next to Jackson and he acknowledges me with a small nod. To be fair, Jackson is hardworking and one of the best producers I have worked with—but he is still an asshole. He’s just a hardworking asshole. And he really is attractive with his English accent and scruffy looks. Jackson is thirty years old and single by choice, or so I hear. He’s handsome in a manly way, sporting blue-gray eyes, messy hair, toned muscles, and a permanent five o’clock shadow covering his chiseled jaw, plus long fingers that make you imagine what he can do to you with his touch, a deep voice that sounds like he just woke up after a long night of sex, and an ass that always looks good in a pair of jeans or trouser pants—not that I noticed or anything.

Because he’s from London, the women here go crazy for Jackson, loving his accent and arrogant European attitude. He and I butt heads more often than not, but I think the main reason that Jackson annoys me so much is because he reminds me of Kellan. They’re both cocky and sexy, and they both make me want to kick them between the legs while kissing them at the same time.

Patrick Tyson is a man in his thirties with a face that belongs on TV. He has reddish-blonde hair, warm brown eyes, and the body of a
GQ
model. Patrick can be a real charmer when he wants to be, but he can also be a pain to work with because he’ll stop at nothing to make his morning show number one in the country. Also, now that his marriage is on the rocks, he seems to be even more irritable. Patrick used to host one of the most popular morning shows in the country but decided to start his own show, and has been fighting an uphill battle ever since. Although he has many devoted fans—primarily lonely housewives—Patrick really just wants to win an Emmy and be taken more seriously.

I look at Jackson and notice that he is wearing the dark jeans I love on him; I also can’t help but notice how the blue sweater he is wearing makes his eyes stand out.

I distract myself from my vile thoughts of Jackson’s ass by listening to him talking to Patrick.

“After the Jamie Lynn Spears segment you will talk to Jenine Graham about her new album and movie.”

Patrick looks confused. “She has an album and a movie coming out? Hasn’t she been in rehab?”

“Twice,” Jackson answers him.

Patrick gives a devious smile that I know means he’s thinking of a plan to increase ratings. “Maybe I can make her cry,” he says.

I bite my lip, trying to think of the best way to explain the rules of the interview. “Patrick, you can’t ask any questions about rehab.”

With a frown Patrick replies, “But that’s where she’s been. Didn’t she also get a divorce? I could ask about that.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and say, “No, Patrick, she actually said that you also can’t ask any divorce questions. Or plastic surgery questions.”

Patrick’s body goes rigid and I feel Jackson tense next to me. “Well what am I supposed to talk to her about, then?” asks Patrick angrily.

I close my eyes while Jackson says, “Her album and movie.”

I hear Patrick’s voice rise as he retorts, “Which no one cares about!” I open my eyes and see Patrick pacing in front of me. “Can I ask the two of you something? Who is in charge of these crappy stories? We just schedule to interview one train wreck after another but when they come on the show, they never want to talk about their problems. Their problems are what really make them famous anyway, not their crappy songs or movies. If we want to talk about film, then why don’t we interview some talented actors like Al Pacino or Kate Winslet? Why do we always get the annoying, drug-loving whores?” He pauses and looks at the two of us, expecting some sort of answer.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Jackson finally says, “That would be Lucia’s decision.”

I take a step back, not sure how to reply. “Well,to be honest, Patrick, Kate Winslet and Al Pacino have been asked to come on before but …” I trail off, trying to somehow avoid saying the truth.