Pushing myself up out of the bench seat, I get right into Andy’s face. “I already told you this earlier. I’m not doing this just to pay off your debt. I’m done modeling, Andy. Get that through your head.”
Andy crosses his arms over his chest and huffs at me. “You’re being childish, Paige. You’re one of the top models in the entire country. You’ve been in every f**king magazine they print in the US and CoverGirl wants you to do another commercial. You don’t just up and quit something like that for some silly pipe dream of being a private investigator.”
“Shut up, Andy. Shut up right now,” I warn him, refusing to look over at Matt.
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Matt tells Andy through clenched teeth as he steps in between us.
Luckily, the waitress rushes over to check on us before I pick up my fork from the table and stab it into Andy’s smug face.
“Is everything okay here? Do I need to get the manager?” she asks, glancing back and forth between the three of us.
“Oh no, there’s no need for that. Everything is fine. He was just leaving,” I state, staring angrily at Andy.
Andy huffs and turns away from me to look at Matt. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her. She’s never going to amount to anything at that stupid, man-hating Fool Me Once Investigations. The only thing she’s good for is sitting there and looking pretty.”
Andy barely finishes his tirade before Matt’s fist connects with his face. Andy’s head whips back with the force of the blow, and he immediately starts screaming like a girl.
“OH, MY GOD! I THINK YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”
Andy is bent over at the waist, holding both of his hands over his nose as the blood drips down his fingers and onto the floor by his feet.
“Get the f**k out of here before I break something else of yours,” Matt growls at him.
I’m pretty sure my underwear just spontaneously combusted.
Andy finally gets the hint and scurries out of the restaurant without another word, whimpering the entire way out the door. After he’s gone, Matt turns around to face me.
“I think I should probably tell you, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I admit to him.
“Stop. Just . . . stop.”
I shut my mouth and quickly realize that now is not the time for jokes. Even if I’m not joking at all. I really want to throw him down on the ground and rip his clothes off.
“A little modeling? You must think I’m a complete idiot,” Matt says softly.
I shake my head frantically back and forth. “No! It’s nothing like that, I swear.”
“You HAVE been following me, haven’t you? Jesus Christ, is anything about you even true? Did Melanie hire you?”
He waits for me to argue, but I have nothing to say. Not one word.
“She did, didn’t she? Fuck! This entire time, you’ve been playing me for a fool. I really am an idiot,” he mutters angrily.
“Matt, please. Just let me explain,” I plead.
“I think I’ve had enough explanations for one night. Tell my ex I hope she enjoys the company.”
Matt turns and storms out of the restaurant, slamming the door open so hard it bangs against the outside of the building.
“So, you ready for the check now?” the waitress deadpans.
I flop down into the booth and stare longingly out the front door.
Well, so much for this night ending with another amazing kiss.
CHAPTER 9
On Sunday morning, there’s a knock at my door and I contemplate ignoring it. I haven’t showered in two days. I’m facedown on my couch, where I’ve been since I got home Friday night. At least I changed out of my dress when I got home that night. Too bad I haven’t changed out of the Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and tank top I put on after I ripped off my dress and threw it in the trash. I feel gross. But I deserve to feel gross. I suck.
There’s another knock at the door, this one louder than the first. I don’t even lift my head from the cushion or move my body. They’ll go away eventually.
“PAIGE McCARTY, OPEN UP THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I’M GOING TO KICK IT DOWN!” Kennedy yells.
Shit. Kennedy will never go away. And she really will kick my door down. I’ve seen her do it before.
With a sigh, I push myself up from the couch and shuffle my feet over to the door, opening it up while Kennedy continues to pound on it with her fist.
“Jesus Christ, you look like shit,” Kennedy tells me as she pushes her way into my condo.
“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine this morning,” I deadpan as I close the door behind her and go right back to my previous position on the couch.
I know why she’s here. Aside from the fact that I’ve been ignoring her since Friday night, I’m positive that Matt called the office and filled her in on what a lying bitch I am. She’s probably here to fire me. I’m an ex-model and now an ex-almost-private investigator. I’m washed up. A has-been. They’re going to do an E! True Hollywood Story on me and it’s going to be depressing.
“Care to tell me why you haven’t answered my or Lorelei’s calls in the past two days?” Kennedy asks.
“Don’t feel bad about firing me. I already know I screwed up,” I mumble into the couch.
“Drph feem brph amerph frmy meh. Eh affreffy mow eh srphed upff” is what Kennedy hears.
Kennedy’s hand slides under my face and she lifts my head up off of the cushion. “You want to try that again? I don’t speak couch cushion.”