Page 4 of Anger Bang
Two air kisses later, followed by a motherly tsk-tsk as she looked at the way the waist seams in the bridesmaid’s dress held on for dear life if Thea inhaled a full breath, because sample size she most definitely was not, and her mom walked back to the RV. Thea knew what her mom was thinking. If Thea worked out more. If she’d been more outgoing. If she’d go see that plastic surgeoneveryoneused to refresh and enhance. If she’d only do those things, then she wouldn’t be working in a museum with a bunch of dusty old bones but could instead be among the sparkling stars like her sister Jackie.
She knew that’s what her mom was thinking because she’d told her directly to her face enough times that Thea had it memorized.
It was the story of Thea’s life.
Jackie, as the former child star of two kid-channel TV shows, was the gravitational vortex for their family since their mom decided her kids were going to be famous and uprooted them to Hollywood. And through pure determination and some questionable deals, Mom had made it happen for Jackie.
Introverted, sarcastic, dinosaur-obsessed kids like Thea didn’t do so well in showbiz. So Thea had opted for college, graduate school, and a degree in paleontology. All while Jackie had moved on to being a twenty-eight-year-old playing a high school senior on The CW and getting married to her former costar in what maybe, possibly, could be a publicity stunt gone horribly wrong.
Even now, minutes before the pre-wedding festivities were set to begin with a to-be-filmed dress fitting, the head producer was in the RV Thea had just left, poking at every one of Jackie’s insecurities while simultaneously priming her woe-is-me, why-doesn’t-everyone-adore-the-bride sense of entitlement.
Thea had tried to get the producer to stop, but Jackie had shot her a villain-of-the-week glare. Then she’d followed up with a lecture about how Thea didn’t understand how things worked in Hollywood, and that she just needed to mind her own business.
Standing outside in the hellfire-and-brimstone stench of the Stinkingwater River was better than having to hear more of that, so Thea had left. Sure, it was a record-setting ninety-three degrees and the parasol-hat combo did next to nothing against the powerful rays of the Wyoming in August sun, but she’d followed her therapist’s advice and had chosen flight!
Of course, now sweat was starting to trickle down the back of her neck, and the idea of just keeping her mouth shut and doing what she was told in the air conditioning was sounding like a much better plan of action. What she wouldn’t give to be back in Harbor City.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she took her contractually forbidden cell phone out of the pocket built into her monstrosity of a dress and hit up her two favorite people in the whole world.
She held up her phone so the camera could get as much of her dress as possible in the frame.
“Oh my God,” Nola said as soon as her face popped up on the screen from her corner office in a high-rise in Harbor City’s financial district. “What are you wearing?”
Astrid continued to apply her makeup (tips at the bar went way up when she did the smoky eye) and asked, “Have you met any hot cowboys yet?”
Some of the tension eased out of Thea’s shoulders. “My bridesmaid’s dress and no.”
“Boo on both counts,” Astrid said and then stuck out her tongue. “What’s the status on the groomsmen?”
“I’m not here to get laid,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Nola, help me out here.”
Astrid pointed her contour brush at her phone and jumped in before their friend could say anything. “That is totally not what I was told being a bridesmaid was about. Of course you’re there to bang the hottest groomsman. There are wedding rules.”
“The entire week is beingfilmed,” Thea reminded her friends.
Nola grinned. “There are worse things than the country watching some hot guy chase you around a wedding.”
“No, there aren’t,” Thea deadpanned, and both her friends laughed, as expected.
Smoothing her blonde hair back—as if a single strand would have the audacity to slip free of her severe bun—Nola set her expression into serious-contract-attorney-that-puts-up-with-no-shit mode. “You hanging in there with all of the family stuff?”
Thea squared her shoulders and forced her lips into a smile. “I’m—”
“Fine,” her two best friends said at the same time.
Wow. Maybe she really did say that too much.
“How about a ski instructor?” Astrid asked as if she and Nola hadn’t just called Thea out. “You’re close to the Rockies, right?”
Nola rolled her eyes. “It’s August, Astrid.”
She stopped mid-blot of her second coat of deep red lipstick and let out a dramatic gasp. “Don’t you rain on my boner parade, Nola.”
“You two are stone-cold messes,” Thea said with all love and no censure.
Astrid shrugged. “And you’re right there with us.”
“True.” And it was. They may not be the likeliest of besties, but their little misfit trio had been together through a million tragedies and celebrations. They were one another’s rocks—even when they were half a country apart. “Love you guys.”
