She still had to face James at future family gatherings. That wouldn’t change. But around four a.m. she had decided that the best course of action was to deliver Ethan some thank-you treats and then avoid him for forever and ever.
“That’s not the worst part,” Em said.
“James finding your scorched diddly-do is not the worst part?” Barbie asked, slowly.
“No.Ethan Greeneis my new neighbor, and he was first on the scene,” Em relayed the situation.
“Ethan Greene?” Barbie asked. “Used to do the save-a-restaurant show, and the barbecue show—the one where he made meatsicles?”
Em nodded.
“Holy shit. Holy, holy, holy shit.” Barbie laughed. Stomped her feet. “Only you. Only you. Ethan-fah-reaking Greene!”
Why did the mention of his name give her a little zing in the nerve endings along her neckline? Avoiding him was way up at the top of the agenda. As such, her nerve endings had no business firing at the mention of his name.
Sure, Ethan was handsome—more handsome even than her ex. Not that it was a comparison. Ethan also had buckets of success and the ability to draw all the attention to himself.
A girl could not dazzle or stand out when she was on the arm of a guy like Ethan. No, when she was with a man like him, she dissolved into nothing. Ask her how she knew…
And, as though she needed anand, he’d already seen her in one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.
“He’s only a person,” she reminded Barbie.
“He is not only a person,” Barbie corrected. “He’s famous, and it sounds like he’s into you. How do you always do that? I swear I need to take lessons.”
“You mean how do I attract assholes with a strong social media following?” Em countered. For the record, her social media following was dismal and she liked it that way.
“I’m telling you. You are the total package.” Barbie gestured from Em’s head to her toes. “Embrace it.”
“Which part? The uncombed hair or the syrup on my shirt?” Em asked.
It didn’t matter if Ethan liked her or not. Before her marriage, Em had hobnobbed with celebrities—dated and…uh…slept with a few of them, too. During her marriage, she attended all the important Hollywood events. And if there was one thing she could count on with the famous and those who groupied with them, they were all the same: all phoney and all about themselves. All about shoving her to the side.
“I refuse,” Em said. “Utterly refuse to be impressed by anything other than uninspired ordinary. Bring on the small business owners or a plumber.”
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad,” Barbie urged. Though she had barely visited Em in California, and she hadn’t seen the things Em had.
“I’ve missed this,” Em said, gesturing between them. This was nice… falling back into the way things were.
“Well, there’s no Tony here to interfere.” Barbie rolled her eyes. “I sure hate that guy.”
“I know,” Em said.
Tony wasn’t a fan of Barbie and BarbiehatedTony. Em was stuck in the middle so when Barbie stepped back from spending any time where Tony might be, Em didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t a right answer, it seemed, in those moments. That was the start of what Em thought of as the Christmas Card years. The years where she and Barbie texted a few times, forwarded memes on Facebook, sent holiday greetings, and otherwise lived their own lives.
But that was then. And this was now. And Em had already decided she would never make that mistake again.
“I’m sorry,” Em said. “That I didn’t fight to keep you in my life.”
“Girl.” Barbie nodded. “Same.”
“These people like Ethan? Tony? The famous ones. They’re toxic,” Em assured. They would attempt to show that they weren’t awful, but she’d been around this block more than a few times and she knew how it went.
“Okay, let’s never talk about Tony again. Instead, let’s talk about why I came.” Barbie rummaged through her handbag. “I came because I actually got a gig and I need your help.”
“You got a job?” Em asked.
Barbie was a trust fund baby and aside from a little two-week stint at GAP when they were in high school, Barbie elected not to join the workforce.
