After his meteoric rise to superstardom, Jim O'Brien is no longer a small-town boy who plays in bars and dreams of success. His handsome face is plastered on the covers of celebrity gossip magazines, and his voice alone is enough to make girls swoon...
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Standing in the middle of the crowded mall, I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for Harper to answer the call.
"Ava," she said, slightly breathless. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. I know you're busy. I won't take up much of your time; it's just that... I was wondering if you could see me this week."
"You feeling okay?"
"I'm feeling great. It's about a different thing."
"What thing?"
"Birth control," I said, lowering my voice and glancing around. To my relief, the people nearby didn't seem to pay attention to my conversation.
"So, things with Mister Coffee are going well?" Harper asked.
"Very well. I'll tell you all about it when I see you. When can you pencil me in?"
The rustling of pages told me Harper opened her agenda. "Tomorrow at lunchtime? One o'clock? Not the best hour, but I'd rather talk to you without being in a hurry, and the rest of the day looks crazy."
"It's okay. Thank you for finding the time to see me."
"Don't be silly. See you tomorrow, and Happy Valentine's Day. I'll be dying to know how your date went."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Doctor Lincoln. I hope Cupid finally sends a good match your way."
Harper chuckled. "I sure hope so."
As soon as we hung up, I checked my phone for any new texts from the girls. Going on a last-minute shopping spree and asking them to tag along wasn't in my plans, but Jim and I were going on a date, and I wanted something special to wear.
"Ava!" Isla waved at me from the entrance to the mall. I spotted Ivy and Tasha next to her.
After exchanging greetings, we headed to the first store.
"Any plans tonight?" I asked Ivy, raking my eyes over the clothes covering the mannequins.
"Jackson invited me over. His roommate is staying at his girlfriend's, so we'll have the place to ourselves. And you? Any idea where you're going?"
"Jim doesn't want to tell me." Failing to contain my smile, I browsed the selection of dresses to my right. The black one, short and form-fitting, called my attention.
"Jim?"
I turned around to look at Tasha, who was eyeing me suspiciously.
"Yeah, Jim. My boyfriend."
Ivy's eyes darted to Tasha. "By the way, you never told us how the stalking went. Did Jim O'Brien fall victim to your charm when you left us and ran to that club?"
Isla faced the clothes rack, but I didn't miss the smile on her face as she pretended to inspect a sequined skirt.
Tasha studied a bright red dress with fake nonchalance and rubbed the thin fabric between her fingers. "It wasn't him. The person gave me the wrong information."
