go eat first, anyway, and then say hi to Kit.”
“Okay. So Viper Room, around eleven.” She made a kiss noise. “Byee.”
She clicked the phone off, and opened the door.
“Don’t tell me,” Andre said, his arms folded across his naked chest. “Now that the other man in your life calls, you’ll be off running?”
“I can’t believe you’re jealous of a gay guy.”
“I’m starting to think they’re the only men you could love.”
She smiled at him, cruelly sweet. “I see. So is that why you’re acting so bitchy? So I’ll think you’ve crossed over and fall madly for you?”
“Dammit.” His gorgeously chiseled chin rippled as his jaw tensed. He looked like the model he was. Okay, give me angry! Angry! Martika almost laughed at the thought. “Martika, I think I’m in love with you. But I don’t want you to go out with Taylor tonight.”
She gave him a lazy once-over. While ordinarily she’d be applauding his growing a spine, he’d hit a hot button. Taylor was her best friend. Nobody fucked with her friends—or told her who she could and couldn’t see.
“I’m going out tonight, Andre. You can go with me if you want…” She paused. “No. On second thought, you can’t go with me. I am going out with my friends to try to ignore the idiocy that’s just transpired here. You can throw a tantrum, or you could do something productive. Sleep. Watch TV. Write an angst-filled sonnet. Frankly, I don’t care.”
She stalked over to the bathroom, started the water running in the shower. She took off her robe and stepped into the stream, adjusting the heat. It felt good. Relaxing.
He followed her in, pulling open the door. She saw him, his handsome face obscured by the steam. “Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t live here anymore,” he said, and took a deep breath. His blue eyes were both angry and pleading. If he’d started crying, she wouldn’t be surprised.
She sighed. “I’ll be out by the end of the week.”
She shut the door.
Standing in the rain, Sarah glanced up at the sign: Basix Café. If she were going to start exploring the city, and getting used to it by herself, then this was as good a place as any. Granted, it was two blocks away from her house, but the fact that she was outside the apartment, among strangers, was a step in the right direction.
Of course, she’d tried calling Judith and seeing if she could meet her for dinner, but she’d only gotten the message machine. It had only taken her another half hour to stir up her courage to come here by herself.
The place was crowded, with a patio area that was closed in with clear plastic curtains and those butane heaters that looked like torches. She made her way toward the inner restaurant, feeling self-conscious. She wondered if she’d see anybody famous. This was Hollywood, after all. Okay, West Hollywood, but still…
The “host” looked her over, smiling slightly. “Good evening. How many?”
“Just one.”
“Right.”
Was it just her, or did he give her an appraising once-over? Not the sexual kind, either, the way men might at home. It was more like…something was wrong with her, or something.
She discreetly checked her jeans zipper.
Maybe it’s because I’m here by myself, she thought. She noticed there were at least twosomes at most tables, usually more.
Next time, she told herself, she’d bring a book. If there were a next time.
He took her to a minuscule table in the corner, half obscured by a potted plant. She took a menu and sat. At least from her duck-blind vantage point she got to look around, which was nice. Nobody famous yet, but it was only, what, eight or so? She imagined they’d probably come out later. Somewhat like vampires.
The thing she noticed immediately was that the restaurant was predominantly filled with men…all well dressed, she noticed, in that stylish, edgy way that seemed very “MTV.” You wouldn’t see guys dressed like this in Fairfield. At least, not in a café, for dinner.
She turned her attention to the menu. Her stomach grumbled. The place smelled wonderful, and the desserts…what she could see in the glass case looked so good, she briefly considered having a dinner of chocolate cake with a side order of éclairs. Still, she was running on empty—she needed real food first, or she’d be twitching on the carpeted floor with a sugar rush all night.
“What do you mean, there’s no table for me?” a flamboyant voice pierced the rumble of conversation. All eyes turned to the new arrival. Sarah turned, too, then gaped, momentarily ignoring the menu.
He was one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. He had short hair that was obviously curly in its natural state—it waved over his forehead, obviously calmed by gel of some sort. He had big, dark eyes, broad shoulders, and like everyone else here, it seemed, his clothes were stylish. He was wearing black, shiny cargo pants and an almost metallic looking red shirt. He had two earrings in his right ear, and to her surprise, he had on black nail polish.
“But I’m starving, Mitch,” he said, in a melodramatic whine, then winked at the maître d’. “Besides, I’m clubbing with Tika tonight, so I can’t wait two hours for a table!”
The giant glanced around, then suddenly descended on her. “Is anybody sitting with you?”
Goggling, she gathered enough presence of mind to shake her head.
“Great. Then I’ll just have dinner with you. Hi,” he said, pulling up a chair and sprawling down heavily on it. “I’m Taylor.”
She nodded, feeling overwhelmed. “S-Sarah,” she said.
He beamed. “What a delicious voice! Like a Powerpuff girl. I love them. Did you know they were originally called the WhupAss Girls when they were just a student film? But of course, Cartoon Network wouldn’t let them stay that way…but I digress.” He looked at her. “You haven’t ordered yet, have you?”
“Uh…no.” She glanced back down at the menu. “I’ve never eaten here before,” she ventured, “so I hadn’t decided.”
“Never?” He sounded delighted. “Well, then, you’re in for a treat. Start with the corn bisque, then have a pizza…the barbecued chicken and gouda. It’s fantastic.”
Her stomach growled, and she pressed a hand to it, embarrassed. “That sounds great.”
“Obviously!” He looked her over. What was it with that look? But he was less disparaging, and smiled. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
You think? “Well, I am now.” She smiled weakly. “I just moved in. Up the street.”
“Really?” She wondered if he ever sounded disappointed about anything. “That’s great. I live right up the street, myself! Oh, hold on a sec. That’s a friend of mine.” He got up and maneuvered his way across the room, managing to catch the eye of every person in the restaurant. Which, Sarah supposed, was the point. “Michael!
