Her smile is one I’ve seen many times before. “Because people tell Frankie their secrets. It’s a gift.” And then she flips her hair back.
I laugh. “God, I’ve missed you.”
Sheboopsme on the nose. “Now that we have that all figured out, let’s get you ready for your interview.”
The interview with Mr. Rainey goes smoothly. It’s less intense than every single session with Frankie that led up to it. Was that her plan?
He talks about the job. Asks about my experience. Raves about the video—my charisma and presence and that certain spark—and says he wants to see how I do under pressure.
“Under pressure?” I ask, trying to portray calm instead of this almost manic energy.
“The talent show tomorrow. You’re doing your own costumes and makeup, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” He gives me a quick smile, a shake of his hand, and that’s it. The whole thing lasts less than twenty minutes.
I can’t believe Jonah spent all his money and drove all night so I could get to a twenty-minute interview. Especially when the deciding factor will be my performance at tomorrow’s talent show.
“You’re going to get this job, babe.” Frankie links our arms together as we walk along the streets of Hillcrest in San Diego. “Now you just have to decide whether you want it.”
“Isn’t that like putting the cart before the horse or something?”
“Trust me. You don’t want to get offered the job and then not know if you want to take it.”
I stop, and she turns to look at me. “Frankie, would you be terribly upset if I didn’t take it?”
“Yes,” she says, grabbing both my hands. “I would be terribly upset.” She flashes me an impish smile. “It’s a good thing my opinion doesn’t matter. It’s definitely not as important as some people’s.” She doesn’t use air quotes, but her voice goes deeper on the last two words.
I tug on her hands. “You matter to me, Frankie. Why do you think Jonah’s opinion is more important than yours?”
“Why do you assume I’m talking about Jonah?” She leans closer and winks. “Newsflash. I was talking about you.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Let’s go celebrate.” She grabs my arms, and I know the squealing is about to start. “There are so many Pride parties going on.”
“Can’t, sorry. I’m going to this super-exclusive party. Just me and my hot but sweet farm boy. I might even let him boss me around.”
When I get to the room, Jonah is passed out. I take a shower and then slip into bed with him. I snuggle against him, and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer.
The next time I wake, I’m lying on my stomach, and Jonah has one hand on my back and the other is squeezing my ass as he brushes kisses down my spine.
“Good morning to you too,” I say, looking over my shoulder.
His eyes are fond. “I’m obsessed with your ass. It’s perfect.”
“Carry on then.”
He bites the left cheek, and I let out a soft cry. “Yes, please.”
“Is every part of you smooth?”
“Why?”
His gaze shoots up. “It’s not— I’m not judging you. It’s hot.”
Oh. “Yes. I wax.”
