Page 178 of Trouble from Abroad
The lumberjack-looking server proceeds to flirt with Callie, and I’m beyond grateful for the distraction from my embarrassment. Boy, I hope it’s enough for her to never mention my drunk confession again.
What the hell was I thinking?
Not that it’s embarrassing… Except it is. It’s mortifying. Some things should remain private, and I’m taking this one to the grave.
Needing a distraction, I watch as the bartender ignores all other patrons and hangs on to every word Callie says. God, they make it look so easy. The small talk, the hooded glances, the little stolen touches.
Callie is my new hero. While April is the typical girl-next-door, Callie is a big girl too. But she’s not awkward-big like me. She could easily be a doctor by day and a plus-size supermodel by night. Men have been falling at her feet all night. Callie’s the full package—a siren. It’s impossible not to be drawn to her. The humor. The brains. The heat. Off the fucking charts.
The girl who self-proclaimed herself as my new bestie on our first toast three bars ago has generous, hourglass curves that would send even an F1 driver spinning.
Callie is hot and proud. I’m wearing two layers of shaping underwear and trying to fade into the background.
I straighten without meaning to, squaring my shoulders to match hers. Trying on a braver version of myself. It doesn’t quite fit, but it feels nice. If she’s willing to teach me her ways, I’ll add that to my plan too.
When a customer almost breaks his tumbler on thecounter trying to get the bartender's attention, the lumberjack gets Callie’s phone, calls himself and tells her he’ll be calling tomorrow.
A testament to her working memory, Cal picks up our conversation exactly where we dropped off. She turns on her stool toward me and asks, “And how exactly does one become asex goddessin just a matter of months? Gotta say, I love the ambition. I dedicatedyearsof my life to that,” she says, throwing her head back and laughing. “Lots of swiping right? Or the old-fashion way? Hey, I’m ready to be your wingwoman. We can start right now.”
She scans the crowd. “How about that one?” She raises her chin in the direction of a young man. Slim, tall, nice dark hair, in a business suit. He’s probably attractive, but the package is doing nothing for me. The guy stares back at us—well, probably at Callie—while we inspect him like a piece of meat, and my cheeks go up in flames. I turn my back to him at the speed of light, while Callie is already describing and casually pointing to a man on my left. I lower her hand and stop her menu selection.
“Callie, don’t.”
“Mia,” she scolds. “If you’re aiming for a performance levelthat high, you got to put yourself out there. And you need to startASAP. Kegel exercises as we speak, and a hot date on your first night out.”
“That’snotwhat I have in mind,” I grunt.
“Oh, right, you have a plan. Do share.”
“Not here,” I stall.Or anywhere. Ever.“I was too tipsy before. I’m sorry. It’s a silly idea I had, one I’m not ready to tell anyone. It’s very personal.”
“Babes. You can tell meanything. I’ll help you achieve your dream. You have a New York bestie now, remember?”
The smile sticks. Because she means it.
Doesn’t matter that we’ve known each other for less than twenty-four hours. Callie’s intense, all in, and I’m all too happy to be swept away by her hurricane.
And it feels really good to ditch my old friend—loneliness.
Realizing this is not the place to have this conversation, I reply, “I’m not discussing something that personal in a crowded bar, Callie.”
“Fine,” she says, unlocking her phone and ordering an Uber.
“That’s not what I meant.”
She arches a pair of unimpressed brows and asks for the check. Sexy Lumberjack says it’s on the house and sends Callie off with a bottle of chilled, top-shelf champagne. Mate is trying hard to impress.
Cal tries to get me to spill it in the car, but, lucky me, I don’t have to stall or shush her this time. At the words ‘sex goddess,’ the driver’s head snaps around with a sharp crack, and she goes quiet. Well, quietly giggling.
I thought Callie would drop me off at Dr. Preston’s house and head home, but she followed me inside and is now pouring two flutes of champagne. The fun part of the night is over, and I don’t see a way out of the interrogation that’s coming.
“You’re not going to drop this, are you?” I ask before plopping down on the couch. I accept defeat and the drink as she sits too close to me and gives me the cheekiest smile.
“You started, now you finish. What’s the secret plan no one can hear about? No one but me,obviously.”
“Shhhh. Dr. Preston must be sleeping. Keep your voice down, woman.” I slap both hands over her mouth.
She peels them off immediately. “Oh please, the rule is clear. We only call him doctor at the hospital. And don’t try to change the subject. Let the cat out of the bag.”
