The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (28 page)

“You know shit.” She continued walking.

“What happened then is hardly something I’d
forget. Or are you going to tell me I misunderstood why you stuck
your hand down my pants?”

That shut her up. They walked past the last
cabin. A beam of sunlight sliced through a gap in the fog and the
trees and lit up a small meadow to their left. His heart pounded.
He felt on fire. He should have confronted her years ago.

“I don’t remember doing what you say I
did—”

“Liar.”

She snorted. “But if I did, I apologize.”

“You
apologize
?”

“Yes, I apologize. Though honestly, you’ve
certainly milked it over the years, walking around with that big
chip on your shoulder when really you should be thanking me.”

“Listen to me. I don’t give a damn about what
you did to me.”

“Now who’s a liar?”

“It’s my father you’re hurting. And God knows
who else.”

“Please. Don’t pretend you suddenly care
about dear old Dad.” She turned and started walking back the way
they’d come. “This conversation is over.”

He strode after her. “I’m not through with
you.”

“Give it up. If you want a real conversation,
talk to him. It’s been almost two decades. I think you’re due.”

“I already talked to him. He’s upset his wife
sleeps around.” Disgusted, he stopped where he was, letting her
walk away, talking to her back. “I don’t get it. Why would you stay
married when you’re so miserable?”

She stopped and gave him a small smile over
her shoulder. “Who said I was miserable?”

* * *

Fighting a yawn and feeling dead on her feet,
Lucy knocked on Krista and Betty’s cabin door. She’d intended on
taking a nap instead of having dinner to rest up for another night
with Miles, but she felt too guilty to sleep. She kept seeing
Krista’s stricken face.

Krista had always been an odd combination of
needy and invincible. Much more popular in high school than Lucy,
she’d always known what to wear, what to say. She’d been in the
student council clique, starred in several plays, dated the
best-looking guys.

But it was never enough. She never seemed
satisfied. Something about Krista—no matter how many people liked
her, it was never enough.

Over the years those popular friends hadn’t
stuck around but the motley crew she’d known since elementary
school—Betty, Fawn, and Lucy—had. To her credit, Krista never
turned her back on them when it might have made her more popular
with her exclusive crowd. In high school, she ate lunch with
Betty—whose hair had alternated between pink and platinum blond—and
always chose Lucy for her team in P.E., no matter how much grief
her cooler friends gave her.

Krista got on Lucy’s nerves, but she was a
good person. She was a good friend. It bothered Lucy that she’d
hurt her, however unintentionally.

Lucy knocked harder. “Krista? It’s Lucy. I
know you’re in there. I saw you go inside!”

And she’d been alone. If Krista had been with
Alex, God knows she never would have interrupted.

The door opened a crack. Krista’s
tear-streaked face appeared. “Lucy?”

“Hey. Can we talk?”

“We don’t have to talk. It’s my issue, I’ll
deal with it.”

Lucy hesitated. If she tried to force a
conversation it would seem like she was only there for her own
sake, not Krista’s. “Are you sure? You seemed awfully upset.”

“I probably just need to be alone.” But she
opened the door wider and moved a little to the side.

Lucy got the hint. She stepped into the
cabin. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am I didn’t
understand what you were going through earlier.”

“But I did tell you. Right after I talked to
Miles that first time. And you told me I had to figure out what
might be worth loving about me before I expected a man to want
me.”

Oh-oh.
“That’s not what I meant.” Lucy
rubbed her temple and gestured near the rear of the cabin. “Do you
have a private patio back there like mine?”

Krista nodded.

Lucy got first aid out of the mini-bar. She
hadn’t planning on drinking any alcohol tonight but that was
apparently unrealistic. “Let’s have a glass of wine and talk about
how awesome you are.”

“No, I’m not, obviously I’m not—”

Lucy nudged Krista with her knee and herded
her onto the back patio. She set the bottle and glasses on a small
table near the hot tub and smiled at her old friend. “You want to
know a secret? I’m not kidding about it being a secret, either.
You’ll have to promise not to tell anybody. Really. Anybody.”

Krista sat on the edge of a teak bench across
from her and crossed her arms over her chest. “Even Fawn?”

“Especially Fawn,” Lucy said, dead
serious.

Interest sparked in her eyes. “All right.
What?”

Lucy took a deep breath. “Promise?”

Krista sighed and drew an X over her heart.
“I promise.”

The wine wasn’t chilled, but Lucy poured a
glass and handed it over. She hoped her confession didn’t come back
to bite her. “I’ve always thought you were the one who should have
been a model.”

Krista froze with the glass at her lips, eyes
wide. She took a sip. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Why wouldn’t you want Fawn to know
that?”

The wine was excellent. It was worth drinking
at any temperature. “You’re right. I left off the juicy part.”

Now Krista was smiling a little. “Yeah?”

“I still don’t understand why Fawn is an
internationally known supermodel and you aren’t. I think you’re the
most beautiful person I’ve ever known. In person, I mean.”

Krista looked around as though they might be
overheard. “But Fawn is gorgeous. She’s six feet tall, thin, blond,
those eyes, that skin, she’s so graceful—”

“All true. Which just goes to show what I
think of your total hotness,” Lucy said, swallowing another
mouthful. “Not to get all Betty on you. This isn’t, like, me trying
to be the most promiscuous bisexual slut in the wedding party or
something. Collecting as many of you as I can.”

Krista stared at her. Finally a corner of her
mouth twitched. “Saving Betty for last?”

“No. She was for tomorrow night at the
rehearsal dinner. I was saving Huntley’s lesbian sister for the
wedding itself. If I’m going to gay, I might as well go for an
heiress.”

“She’s cute. I’ve seen pictures.”

Lucy saluted her with the wine glass. “Good.
I’m very picky.”

Krista laughed out loud and shook her head.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“All right, I wasn’t really going bi on you.
I’ve got enough trouble with men to start multitasking.”

Still smiling, Krista drained her glass and
put it down. Then she lay down on the bench and stared up at the
darkening sky, her hands folded over her stomach. “Thanks. I
guess.”

“You’ve already started to dismiss what I
said. I never said anything before because I didn’t think it should
matter what people look like, especially between friends, and I
didn’t want you to think I was judging you that way,” Lucy said.
“But you’re so damn insecure and it makes no sense. Of course guys
want you. Of course Alex wanted to sleep with you. The question I
wish you’d ask yourself is, ‘Is he worth it? Is he worth
me
?’”

Krista tilted her head and looked at her. “Is
that what you do?”

Lucy thought about how she’d measured and
weighed every man she’d ever known, estimating their sum total of
qualities against her requirements. “Yes. Too much.”

“I agree.”

Lucy snorted into her glass. “You’re supposed
to reassure me I’m doing what’s right for me.”

Krista pushed herself back up to sitting.
“But you’re not.” She leaned forward and put her hands on her
knees. “You wanted Alex because he was good enough for marriage.
Then you wanted Miles because he was good enough for sex.”

The wine dripped onto her lap as Lucy lost
her grip on the glass. “That’s not fair. That’s not—”

“Not once did you ask yourself if you were
good enough to use other people for what you wanted, no matter how
they might get hurt when your experiment was over.” Krista pushed
up to her feet. “I’m flattered you think I’m pretty. I know I’m
pretty. But what I want goes deeper than that, and I think it’s
really sad you can’t even see that. For me or for yourself.”

Stunned, Lucy put the glass down and stood
up. “Of course it goes deeper than that. And why shouldn’t I think
about what I’m worth and what I need? That’s what everyone else is
doing.”

“But it’s always an experiment with you.
You’re so heartless. Calculating. Dan left you for another woman
and right away you started looking for a new victim.”

Lucy sucked in a breath. “You don’t mean
that. You’re just upset.”

To make things worse, Krista began to cry.
“Oh, God forbid somebody gets
upset
. Of course I am. Every
guy I like would rather be with women like you. Women who treat
them like
shit
.”

This was not what she’d come over for. “Your
theory is flawed,” she said, reaching out to the cabin’s back door.
She’d have to walk through the bedroom to get out. “As you yourself
pointed out, Dan left me.”

“He would have come back in a flash if you’d
shown the slightest feeling about him leaving you. He was
testing
you, Lucy. Making sure you loved him before you got
married. And you failed the test.”

“He started living with somebody else. That
was quite a test.”

“Extreme measures, maybe, but you yourself
said they weren’t even sleeping together.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.
You’ve got this idea about me because you’re unhappy, and now
everything has to fit into your hypothesis. It has no bearing on
reality.” Lucy strode into the cabin and tripped over one of
Betty’s bras. She had to put a hand on the unmade bed to regain her
balance. Great, now
she
was upset. Couldn’t even walk.

Krista was right behind her. “You’re the one
who’s twisting reality. One of these days you’re going to get hurt
and realize I’m right!”

Where was this coming from? Lucy frowned at
her, not believing so much crazy resentment had been simmering
under the surface. “You’d
like
me to get hurt?”

“Maybe. Yes. It would be good for you to know
what it’s like.”

She knew well enough what hurt felt like.
Lucy shot her a cold look before striding out of the cabin and
hurrying down the stairs. She marched off into the forest.

How long had Krista been bottling up that
little rant? Maybe they’d never been the closest friends in their
group, but Lucy never suspected she’d been harboring such… venom.
And because of men, no less. This gorgeous, popular woman was
bitterly jealous of Lucy’s relationships with men—Lucy, who had
slept with three of them in her entire life.

It was too ridiculous.

Irrational. Krista was unhinged.

What had happened between Lucy and Miles had
been extremely consensual. Four—five if you count the beach, which
she certainly did—times. Five very consensual times. The idea that
she was using him was absurd.

And Alex? They’d met a few days ago and had
barely spoken. Not like she and Miles had, not with the immediate
click of understanding and friendship. Who was the user? He slept
with Krista without even knowing what Lucy had done with Miles. He
could guess, but he didn’t know. Hardly a trustworthy type.
Probably jealous, too, the kind of guy who’d want to know where you
were every minute, like you were his property. She would
hate
that.

What she and Miles had was fun and healthy
and wasn’t hurting anybody. He didn’t make demands on her. He
didn’t need her.

In fact, she was going to find him right away
and remind herself of that.

* * *

Alan Girard lay on his stomach on a massage
table, fully dressed and immobile. If Shawn hadn’t tipped him off,
Miles never would have looked for his father in one of the massage
yurts; he didn’t think of him as the type. Then again, he was still
wearing his wool trousers and Italian loafers, and no spa staff was
in sight. So he was was just… waiting? Resting? Drunk?

“Dad?”

“Go away.” He didn’t move, just spoke through
the hole in the padded table.

Miles stepped deeper inside the round
building and closed the door behind him. Only tiny bluish lights
along the floor lit the room. “I don’t want to talk to you any more
than you want to talk to me, but I guess we’d better.”

“I’m busy.”

In spite of himself, Miles laughed softly. “I
can see that.” When his father didn’t say anything else, he added,
“I tracked Heather down.”

Silence.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between
you and your current spouse—”

Alan snorted. “‘Current spouse.’ Nice.” He
didn’t lift his head.

“Could you please sit up and talk to me?”

“We’re talking.”

“You’re face down and I’m staring at your
back. Hard to have a conversation.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

Miles closed his eyes for a moment before
walking across the room and sitting down on the floor under his
father’s head. For a moment their eyes met through the hole in the
table. “See? With a little effort the conversation becomes
possible.”

Alan sighed. He lifted his head and rubbed
his eyes. “What the hell do you want?”

“Reconciliation.”

“Hell of a time.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“None of your business.”

Miles stretched out his legs. “I’m not going
anywhere.”

“Great. Sixteen years you won’t have anything
to do with me. Now you won’t leave me the hell alone.”

“You told me when I was eighteen you never
wanted to see me again.”

His father pushed himself upright. His face
was flushed. “That is such bullshit. You know I didn’t mean
that.”