Me?” he says. “I’ve texted you, like, a million times—”
“No, I don’t think so. But forget all that! Aren’t you just dying? Isn’t it the most fab thing in the entire world?”
“What are you talking about?” he says, his voice all adorable sleepiness. “What time is it?”
“I have no idea. I’ve been up for eons, darling! Calling everyone I know. Have you ever seen anything so marvelous?”
“What are you talking—”
“I mean, you can’t buy this kind of press! I’m just beside myself with happ—”
“Desy!” he yells. “Stop talking for a second, okay?”
Asshole, I think, pinching my lips closed.
A long time passes. Practically eternity.
“Are you there?”
“You said to stop talking—”
“I know what I said,” he groans, like some mean, old, grumpy bear.
“You yelled in my ear, Miller. And that’s my tool. As an artist.”
“I think you mean your voice, Des.”
“Whatever. But isn’t it exciting! Who do you think the source was? Someone at IceCapade, I suppose—”
“Slow down, baby. Okay? Just for a sec. I need to ask you something, okay?”
He called me baby. Oh, Miller. He’s just so scrumptious! “Sure, lovey!”
“So this thing you’re so excited about . . . was it, like, something you saw on TV?”
This makes me laugh. Hysterically. “No, darling,” I say, wiping away the tears. “It was that article. That blog in the Ogler! About you, me . . . oh, just everything!” There is a silence. “Well, I’m sure you’re as thrilled as I am! But first things first. We have much to do before the launch party!”
More silence.
“Okay then! I’m coming over in fifteen minutes. Shall I bring croissants? No, wait . . . I’ll bring cronuts! They’re all the rage.”
I hang up before he can answer.
I send him the link, then race around, gathering my things. He texts back, What the fuck? Less excited than I had hoped. but I know why he’s really upset.
Article, smarticle. He’s just missed me, of course!
I know I’d been a meanie, making him suffer like that. But a girlfriend? And a dried-up, pruney one at that. I mean, I know all about Miss Annalise Hoff. I practically have a PhD in Facebook Investigations, after all.
Stalking? Please. My natural curiosity is one of my best qualities! It’s part of my glow, my effervescence. It just bursts right out of me like champagne bubbles! And from what I’ve seen of her tagged photos, all that’s bursting out of Annalise Hoff is uptight, frigid bitch.
Miller doesn’t love her—that much is clear. And of course I’ll forgive him! He just needed to suffer a bit first.
Besides, I think, packing up my Birkin, I was busy! The second I got his news—what a cutie he is with those adorable texts!—I went full throttle. The new hair, the stylist, that weekend detox in Nevada. Those algae shakes were totes ick, but I dropped seven and a half pounds! So worth it.
I’m going to be everywhere, I’d thought. And being in the public eye? That’s no joke.
But the question remains . . . am I ready for Pop Stardom?
AYFKM? I’ve been ready since the day I was born.
One last check of the bag. Have I got everything? Advil, Adderall, La Mer, face wipes. Tiara, deodorant, mascara . . . wait! What about money? Infinite, Palladium, Ultima; check, check, check. AmEx Gold and MasterCard Black. And just in case, two thousand in cash!
The show is in less than a week, after all. I know from his many texts and phone messages. And I’ve already started rehearsing with my backup girls! Who knows what the next few days will bring? But one thing I can promise for sure? It’ll be a whirlwind!
With that thought in mind, I head for the door. And the second my hand touches the knob, I realize.
I’ve been so busy, I hadn’t crunched numbers one time! Life is too wonderful!
I’m really growing up.
It isn’t until I’m on the street that I see the headlines at a newsstand.
Todd Evergreen? Really?
Well, it just goes to show you. You can’t trust anyone.
All the more reason to believe in yourself!