navigating down the town’s main street as if she was working her way through the worst of L.A.’s rush hour traffic.
They rode in silence through the town, all three stoplights of it, and then Charlotte said, “He’s very handsome. Excellent body. And good hands. I like a man with good hands.”
“Who are you talking about, exactly?”
“Kevin, of course,” Charlotte said innocently. “Why, did you think I was talking about Josh?”
“I thought you were talking about Hugh Jackman, actually. Did I tell you I danced with him last year at that AIDS benefit? He’s pretty light on his feet.”
“I wonder if Josh can dance.”
Ashley wanted to bash her head against the steering wheel. Or maybe do that thing her character did in the last slasher flick, where she’d unbuckled the passenger’s seat belt and then rammed them into a tree. The airbag would save the driver, but Charlotte wouldn’t be asking any awkward questions for quite a while.
Well, okay, maybe that was a bit over the top. And Ashley might as well get the conversation out of the way before Charlotte said something totally embarrassing in front of Josh. “It’s not a big deal,” she sighed. “Just a . . . I don’t know. A series of misunderstandings, kind of. Most of which involve me acting like an entitled brat, a drunken floozy, ora petulant bitch.” And then, to honor the spirit she’d managed to find earlier in the day, she added, “And
all
of which involve Josh Sullivan acting like an uptight little princess with absolutely no sense of humor.”
“Sounds like a good time,” Charlotte said. “I’d love to hear some details.”
Yeah, Charlotte was all about details. She said it was because she was an actor and needed to store up ideas for future characterization, but Ashley was an actor, too, and she didn’t feel like it gave her an excuse for burrowing into every corner of other people’s personal lives. But now that she’d gotten started with her confession, she kind of wanted to keep going. Part of her obsession, she supposed. So she gave Charlotte a short-form version of her interactions with Josh. The stupidity in the bar with the bet, and Josh refusing to go home with Ashley because she was drunk. . . .
“Okay,” Charlotte said. “So far, this is, like, a totally romantic story. I mean, maybe he was a bit paternalistic, but you were drunk, so you needed to be taken care of. Right? I love this guy. He doesn’t sound like a little princess at all.”
“No,” Ashley admitted. “You’re right. He was a gentleman. In the real sense of the word. And then . . . that morning on the dock . . .”
“Sounds lovely,” Charlotte said carefully. “What happened?”
So Ashley had to explain how Josh had found out about the bet. Charlotte squirmed around in her seat. “If the roles were reversed, you’d have been mad, right? You’d have thought he was an asshole for dragging your body into his stupid game. Right?”
“Yeah. I would have. But I didn’t even take the bet. Or . . . I don’t know, maybe I kind of did? I wasn’t actually . . . I don’t know.” Shit, this all sounded even worse as Ashley explained it to Charlotte. She wasn’t sorry for the topicchange when she was able to say, “Oooh, a church! It looks abandoned, right?”
“Looks condemned.”
“Okay. So we turn here. And now we’re looking for . . .”
“The top of a hill.”
“There are street signs up here. He could have given us street names!”
“Maybe he’s hoping we get lost.”
“Yeah,” Ashley said. She supposed she couldn’t blame him if he was.
They drove in silence until they reached the top of a hill. “Right, here?” Ashley asked.
“Hopefully.”
“There’s the first driveway,” Charlotte said absentmindedly. When Ashley had heard the word “driveway” in the directions Charlotte had recited, she’d thought of something suburban, or maybe the two- or three-acre lots like she was staying
They rode in silence through the town, all three stoplights of it, and then Charlotte said, “He’s very handsome. Excellent body. And good hands. I like a man with good hands.”
“Who are you talking about, exactly?”
“Kevin, of course,” Charlotte said innocently. “Why, did you think I was talking about Josh?”
“I thought you were talking about Hugh Jackman, actually. Did I tell you I danced with him last year at that AIDS benefit? He’s pretty light on his feet.”
“I wonder if Josh can dance.”
Ashley wanted to bash her head against the steering wheel. Or maybe do that thing her character did in the last slasher flick, where she’d unbuckled the passenger’s seat belt and then rammed them into a tree. The airbag would save the driver, but Charlotte wouldn’t be asking any awkward questions for quite a while.
Well, okay, maybe that was a bit over the top. And Ashley might as well get the conversation out of the way before Charlotte said something totally embarrassing in front of Josh. “It’s not a big deal,” she sighed. “Just a . . . I don’t know. A series of misunderstandings, kind of. Most of which involve me acting like an entitled brat, a drunken floozy, ora petulant bitch.” And then, to honor the spirit she’d managed to find earlier in the day, she added, “And
all
of which involve Josh Sullivan acting like an uptight little princess with absolutely no sense of humor.”
“Sounds like a good time,” Charlotte said. “I’d love to hear some details.”
Yeah, Charlotte was all about details. She said it was because she was an actor and needed to store up ideas for future characterization, but Ashley was an actor, too, and she didn’t feel like it gave her an excuse for burrowing into every corner of other people’s personal lives. But now that she’d gotten started with her confession, she kind of wanted to keep going. Part of her obsession, she supposed. So she gave Charlotte a short-form version of her interactions with Josh. The stupidity in the bar with the bet, and Josh refusing to go home with Ashley because she was drunk. . . .
“Okay,” Charlotte said. “So far, this is, like, a totally romantic story. I mean, maybe he was a bit paternalistic, but you were drunk, so you needed to be taken care of. Right? I love this guy. He doesn’t sound like a little princess at all.”
“No,” Ashley admitted. “You’re right. He was a gentleman. In the real sense of the word. And then . . . that morning on the dock . . .”
“Sounds lovely,” Charlotte said carefully. “What happened?”
So Ashley had to explain how Josh had found out about the bet. Charlotte squirmed around in her seat. “If the roles were reversed, you’d have been mad, right? You’d have thought he was an asshole for dragging your body into his stupid game. Right?”
“Yeah. I would have. But I didn’t even take the bet. Or . . . I don’t know, maybe I kind of did? I wasn’t actually . . . I don’t know.” Shit, this all sounded even worse as Ashley explained it to Charlotte. She wasn’t sorry for the topicchange when she was able to say, “Oooh, a church! It looks abandoned, right?”
“Looks condemned.”
“Okay. So we turn here. And now we’re looking for . . .”
“The top of a hill.”
“There are street signs up here. He could have given us street names!”
“Maybe he’s hoping we get lost.”
“Yeah,” Ashley said. She supposed she couldn’t blame him if he was.
They drove in silence until they reached the top of a hill. “Right, here?” Ashley asked.
“Hopefully.”
“There’s the first driveway,” Charlotte said absentmindedly. When Ashley had heard the word “driveway” in the directions Charlotte had recited, she’d thought of something suburban, or maybe the two- or three-acre lots like she was staying
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