“Did you ever hear,” Phillip continued, “that my grandmother’s named Luciana?”
“Err . . . no?”
“Well, that’s probably because it’s not true. Anyway, I’m sold,” Phillip said, throwing a look at Jake that for some reason looked downright evil.
Something told me the Brit was playing a game.
And having far too much fun with it.
“You’re sold?” I repeated skeptically.
Phillip nodded. “I’m down for your pitch.”
“You’re really okay with coming here and performing?” Jake questioned, apparently as dubious as I was.
“Stop sounding like you’re trying to talk me out of it. Of course I’m coming to the café,” Phillip replied, gesturing toward me. “I must see this beauty in person.”
I arched an eyebrow, feeling like he was missing the point. “And save the cats.”
“But of course,” Phillip replied smoothly. “I’m always on call for damsels in distress. Or Madison Square Garden.”
“Right,” I said, not feeling convinced at all.
What was he up to? I knew Phillip didn’t actuallylike me, like me. From what I’d seen, he just flirted like some people breathed. So what was his angle?
Giving up, I shrugged. It didn’t matter in the end as long as it got the performance for the café.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “Jake said his manager thought this would help him rehabilitate his image, but I know you don’t have that problem, so I really appreciate you interrupting your break.”
“Of course, Lucy,” Phillip said. “But Jake—”
“Is really thankful too,” Jake interrupted, cutting him off and making Phillip give him a peculiar look. Why were neither one of them making any sense? “Thanks, buddy.”
“Uh-huh. I see,” Phillip said, tone flat. He gave Jake an unreadable look, before turning back to me and pasting on that famous heart-melting smile of his. “I’m looking forward to getting to see more of you,Luciana,” he said flirtatiously. “Just wait until—”
Except I’d have to wait for a while, apparently, because all of a sudden the screen blipped to black.
“Phillip?” I called, peering at Jake’s phone. Had something happened to his camera? Or had the call ended? “You there?”
No reply. We had definitely hung up.
I frowned, turning to look at Jake. “What happened?”
Jake shrugged. “Bad connection.”
I studied him with suspicion.
“It happens more often than you think,” he said smoothly, as if I wasn’t staring at him hard enough to burn a hole through his head. “Celebrities aren’t immune to dropped calls. We have a song all about that, you know.”
I hummed a little low, skeptical note, but let it drop. Phillip wasn’t my type anyway. And what mattered was that he agreed to come so we could help the café. That’s what I needed to focus on, not some flirt who was going to be halfway around the world again after he sang.
“Let’s head back down,” I suggested. “Mom said she was going to bed but she’s probably still up waiting for me.”
Together, Jake and I moved across the color-splashed roof toward the door.
“Well, you’ve got yourself three out of four band members,” Jake told me, twisting the doorknob. “You’re so close, I just need to figure out how to get ahold of...”
Jake trailed off, and after a moment I understood why.
