Page 24 of Taking the Pitch
“Ladies, it’s one night. What did you bring?”
“Just the necessities,” Hazel says, digging through one of her bags and pulling out a bag of dog treats she makes at the café for Bruno.
“You spoil him too much,” I tell her, heading towards my kitchen and grabbing three shot glasses along with the whiskey.
“There is no such thing.” She croons to Bruno, giving him a cookie.
I roll my eyes and pour out the whiskey. Charlie takes a seat at the bar, and I slide a shot to her. “Hazel, get your cute ass over here so we can take a shot and start this night off right,” I tell her, setting a shot in front of the empty chair beside Charlie.
Hazel takes the empty seat and picks up the shot. “What should we toast to?”
“Hot, meaningless sex,” Charlie says, holding up her shot.
“Nope, something that benefits us all,” Hazel chimes in. “Because I’m already having the hot sex part.”
Charlie and I boo, and I throw a napkin at Hazel. She grabs it mid-air and sticks her tongue out at me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy Hazel is having crazy hot sex with her boyfriend. That doesn’t mean I can’t be a little envious.
“How about no panic attacks for the rest of the year,” I say, knowing damn well I’m the only one graced with that issue.
“Oh honey, are they getting bad again? I know this time of the year is hard on you,” Charlie says, setting her shot glass down and covering my hand, not holding my alcohol.
I shake my head. “No, my med change has helped. I’m just afraid it’s not going to last.” Not wanting to bring the mooddown, I continue, “But enough about me. Tonight’s about fun. Oh! I know!” Thinking of a toast, I give the girls a mischievous grin. “Ladies, raise your glasses.” They raise their glasses to mine and I announce, “To a night of fuckery.”
Laughing, they both cheer, “To a night of fuckery.”
We clink and down our shots, all of us making faces from the burn that travels down our throats.
“So, how’s everything going on the friendly neighbor front?” Hazel asks, hopping down from her seat and going over to the couch to grab her makeup bag, before heading into my bedroom.
I sigh, following in behind her to finish my hair. “I don’t know. Fine, I guess? I ran into him in the parking garage and had a total out-of-body experience.” I plug my curling iron in as Charlie comes in behind us and takes a seat on the closed toilet lid. “I, I think I flirted with him.”
Hazel gasps and jumps up and down, clapping her hands, her dark-red hair bouncing along with her. “That’samazingMillie! Did he flirt back?”
I scrunch my nose, thinking back to earlier. “Yeah, I think he did.”
Hazel lets out a squeal and Bruno tears in from the living room to see what the fuss is about, making us all laugh.
“So why don’t you sound more excited?” Charlie asks, rummaging through her own bag.
Sectioning off my long hair, I grab a chunk and wrap it around the curling iron. “I have too much going on right now. The last thing I need is to add to my stress.”
Hazel looks at me in the mirror, concern wrinkling her brow. “Still having writer’s block?”
I tip my head and grab another chunk of hair. “Unfortunately. I don’t know what I was thinking, giving myself a deadline at the beginning of January.”
“You thought it’d distract you from your heavy feelings you get around the holidays,” Charlie says matter-of-factly.
It’s true. I did it specifically to try to divert the darkness I usually experience during the holidays since losing my parents eight years ago. We all know that. However, I didn’t take into consideration that the heaviness I usually experience may prevent me from writinganything. Specifically, the witty and steamy scenes I’m known for. How can I be creative when I feel nothing inside?
I let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, well, I think I fucked up with that one. I may just have to push the release back a month or two, which will screw up my whole release schedule for the next year.”
Hazel bumps her shoulder into mine. “But isn’t that the benefit of being your own boss? Deciding what works for you on your own terms?” She would know, being the badass boss bitch she is.
“Yeah, but my readers will be disappointed, and I don’t like letting them down.”
Charlie gets up from her spot and walks over to me, setting a hand on my arm, and stares back at me in the mirror. “You know they would understand and completely support you if you told themwhy.”
I release the hair from my iron and set it down on the counter, shaking my head. “I can’t,” I whisper, staring back at her in the mirror. No one, besides my very close group of friends and Charlie’s parents, is aware of my past, and I intend to keep it that way. It’s not that I’m ashamed of what happened. Well, not now anyway thanks to years of therapy, but the image I portray as an author is the fun version of myself and that’s who I want the world to see me as. Not the depressed and broken version I actually am. Whose anxiety is so bad she has to take twodifferent medications to even function as a semi-normal person and have another one on hand for extra bad days.
