The Sweetest Summer

Chapter Forty-Three - Slow Dancing

Six months and twelve days later

I felt like I could explode at any moment - screaming, and shouting, and dancing my way down fifth avenue. Elijah James West was going to be here in New York City, in my tiny two bedroom apartment in SoHo. The apartment that I'd spent entirely too much money on, with its calm blue-grey paint and midcentury modern vibe. I just had to get through this one last interview and I was home free.

My phone chirped once and I glanced at the rather cute male interviewer apologetically. What if Eli was here early?! What if Christian, my doorman, was refusing him entrance...

"Sorry. I need to check this."

"Go ahead." Brent from Cosmopolitan magazine allowed, staring at me for a moment too long as I bent to fetch my EVOL crossbody bag.

Collins:

Just got in my Uber to go back to hell. Enjoy your weekend of vanilla sex....

I rolled my eyes at her rude theatrics. Collins had started at NYU a couple of months back in their pre-law program, but had been staying more at my apartment then her 'ten foot jail cell' as she so lovingly referred to her dorm room.

Avery :

Thank you for clearing out for the weekend. I owe you.

Collins :

I accept payment in the form of Cartier...

I shoved my phone back into my purse, without bothering to respond.

"Sorry about that, what's next?" I squared my shoulders. Brent grinned at me and leaned forward to turn back on the small black recording device.

"No problem. So, what does it feel like to land your first major magazine cover?" He leaned sideways, his question was innocent enough, but his large hand brushed my thigh. I pulled back a little, smiling like I hadn't noticed, remaining a tried and true professional.

"It honestly still feels unreal."

"I can only imagine." He responded tightly, leaning back, acknowledging my brush off, returning back to business mode.

"Being that we're a bit of a racy magazine, we're required to ask the hard hitting questions..."

"Okay, shoot." I crossed one leg over the other.

"How did you lose your virginity?" His baby blue eyes locked with mine and I forced myself to maintain eye contact. If Katrina Park had taught me anything these past six months it was to never let anyone else win. Especially a man.

"After Prom." I smirked, purposefully withholding the fact that it was when I was nineteen, and it wasn't at the Malibu High Prom. It was at West Prom 2020 when Eli had rented the entire Staples Center. Mister hot reporter didn't ask for details so I didn't provide them. Another thing I'd learned was to be more direct, only supplying strategic information.

"That's rather cliche." Brent laughed, but scribbled something in his pretentious leather bound notebook, missing the way my green eyes rolled.