should start using it more often.
“I don’t know, Alexa,” Holly warned, her words coming out in a yawn. Rolling off the trampoline, Holly thought about the hopeful way Jonah had watched Alexa all night. “ He might feel differently.” She rubbed her eyes, and started out of the living room, realizing that the Marmont—or any hot nightspot—was probably no longer an option. But she and Alexa would have plenty of time to go to the fairy-tale hotel before they left LA on Saturday.
“Stop fanning the flames of my delusions,” Alexa mumbled, as she sat up and lifted the two empty champagne flutes off the rug. “Hooking up was incredible,” she admitted, as her face flushed at another naughty memory: Jonah’s nibbling on her neck while the windows of the Aston Martin literally steamed up. “But I doubt I’ll hear from him again,” she added, getting to her feet and blowing Holly a good-night kiss. “Not until the wedding, at least.”
Six hours later, when each girl was fast asleep inher circular bed, and the buttery Malibu sunlight was floating in through each set of drapes, the intercom in the hallway buzzed—loudly.
Groans and murmurs of “no freaking way” came from either side of the guesthouse as each girl stirred in her bed. Alexa pulled her fluffy pillow over her head, and Holly rolled onto her stomach. They were both wishing that they hadn’t actually finished that champagne.
There was another, louder, more insistent buzz.
“It must be Esperanza!” Alexa huffed, finally throwing back her silken top sheet and sliding off the bed. Alexa hurried from the room in her black, lace-trimmed nightie, the house’s central air-conditioning making her shiver. She was still sleepy and slightly hungover, but she also had that jumpy, Christmas-morning feeling in her gut, the feeling of presents to be opened.
“Maybe she knows we kind of trashed the place last night?” Holly called guiltily as she got out of bed, pulling up the strap of her worn-in Oakridge Track & Field tank top. She knew that the contents of the girls’ purses—lip glosses, tissues, Listerine breath strips, and cell phones—were still scattered across the rug, and she was worried they might have broken the Pac-Man game.
Alexa passed by the startling ocean view outside, and then pressed the button on the white box by the door. “Good morning ,” she said pointedly, intending to make whoever it was feel bad for waking her.
“Am I speaking to Alexa?” As Alexa had expected, it was Esperanza’s clipped voice that crackled out.
“Uh-huh,” Alexa said, shooting a “what-the-hell?” glance at Holly, who’d stumbled into the entrance hall, wearing her tank and Tyler’s plaid boxers, rubbing her eyes.
“I have a message for you from Mr. Eklundstrom,” Esperanza said. “He is at Paramount all day, but would like to see you later. He’s arranged for the car to pick you up at six and take you to Paramount. But Mr. Eklundstrom specifically asked me to inquire if you will be free tonight.”
Alexa felt a surge of giddiness and wonder. How had she managed to find the one thoughtful, considerate celebrity in all of Hollywood? She let her joy course through her, and then focused back on Esperanza. “No, I’ll be staying in and watching Dancing with the Stars ,” Alexa replied, rolling her eyes at Holly, who tried to muffle her laughter with her hands.
“Understood,” Esperanza replied swiftly. “I will inform Mr. Eklundstrom that tonight won’t be possible—”
“No, wait! Wait!” Alexa cried, pressing every button possible as panic rose in her. “I was joking! Joking. Of course I’m free. Please tell Jonah I’ll see him then.”
“Very well,” Esperanza replied as Alexa let out the breath she’d been holding. Mental note: Never use sarcasm on this woman. “Oh, and Mr. Eklundstrom left you the keys to his Lexus Hybrid, which you are welcome to use during your stay,” Esperanza added. “It’s right in the
“I don’t know, Alexa,” Holly warned, her words coming out in a yawn. Rolling off the trampoline, Holly thought about the hopeful way Jonah had watched Alexa all night. “ He might feel differently.” She rubbed her eyes, and started out of the living room, realizing that the Marmont—or any hot nightspot—was probably no longer an option. But she and Alexa would have plenty of time to go to the fairy-tale hotel before they left LA on Saturday.
“Stop fanning the flames of my delusions,” Alexa mumbled, as she sat up and lifted the two empty champagne flutes off the rug. “Hooking up was incredible,” she admitted, as her face flushed at another naughty memory: Jonah’s nibbling on her neck while the windows of the Aston Martin literally steamed up. “But I doubt I’ll hear from him again,” she added, getting to her feet and blowing Holly a good-night kiss. “Not until the wedding, at least.”
Six hours later, when each girl was fast asleep inher circular bed, and the buttery Malibu sunlight was floating in through each set of drapes, the intercom in the hallway buzzed—loudly.
Groans and murmurs of “no freaking way” came from either side of the guesthouse as each girl stirred in her bed. Alexa pulled her fluffy pillow over her head, and Holly rolled onto her stomach. They were both wishing that they hadn’t actually finished that champagne.
There was another, louder, more insistent buzz.
“It must be Esperanza!” Alexa huffed, finally throwing back her silken top sheet and sliding off the bed. Alexa hurried from the room in her black, lace-trimmed nightie, the house’s central air-conditioning making her shiver. She was still sleepy and slightly hungover, but she also had that jumpy, Christmas-morning feeling in her gut, the feeling of presents to be opened.
“Maybe she knows we kind of trashed the place last night?” Holly called guiltily as she got out of bed, pulling up the strap of her worn-in Oakridge Track & Field tank top. She knew that the contents of the girls’ purses—lip glosses, tissues, Listerine breath strips, and cell phones—were still scattered across the rug, and she was worried they might have broken the Pac-Man game.
Alexa passed by the startling ocean view outside, and then pressed the button on the white box by the door. “Good morning ,” she said pointedly, intending to make whoever it was feel bad for waking her.
“Am I speaking to Alexa?” As Alexa had expected, it was Esperanza’s clipped voice that crackled out.
“Uh-huh,” Alexa said, shooting a “what-the-hell?” glance at Holly, who’d stumbled into the entrance hall, wearing her tank and Tyler’s plaid boxers, rubbing her eyes.
“I have a message for you from Mr. Eklundstrom,” Esperanza said. “He is at Paramount all day, but would like to see you later. He’s arranged for the car to pick you up at six and take you to Paramount. But Mr. Eklundstrom specifically asked me to inquire if you will be free tonight.”
Alexa felt a surge of giddiness and wonder. How had she managed to find the one thoughtful, considerate celebrity in all of Hollywood? She let her joy course through her, and then focused back on Esperanza. “No, I’ll be staying in and watching Dancing with the Stars ,” Alexa replied, rolling her eyes at Holly, who tried to muffle her laughter with her hands.
“Understood,” Esperanza replied swiftly. “I will inform Mr. Eklundstrom that tonight won’t be possible—”
“No, wait! Wait!” Alexa cried, pressing every button possible as panic rose in her. “I was joking! Joking. Of course I’m free. Please tell Jonah I’ll see him then.”
“Very well,” Esperanza replied as Alexa let out the breath she’d been holding. Mental note: Never use sarcasm on this woman. “Oh, and Mr. Eklundstrom left you the keys to his Lexus Hybrid, which you are welcome to use during your stay,” Esperanza added. “It’s right in the
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