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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I leaned back on the leather couch and curled my hands around the cup of steaming cappuccino.
Isla hummed, taking a sip of her drink next to me. Both of us looked at Ivy, whose expression was full of glee.
"Don't you feel it?" Ivy asked, inhaling deeply.
Isla glanced at me and then at our friend."Feel what?"
"The absence of toxic vibes." Ivy winked. "I've been telling you this for a while now — Tasha is toxic. We could chat about everything, and nobody made anyone feel like crap. That should tell us a little something."
"Why didn't she come, anyway?" Isla asked, taking a sip from her cup.
Ivy shrugged, studying her red nails. "Said she was busy working. That's something new. Didn't she tell us her family was loaded?"
"We all know they are," I said. "Maybe she got tired of doing nothing other than partying. I would."
"Same," said Isla. "I love good parties, but they are good because they don't happen that often. I honestly can't imagine spending every night clubbing. Well, it's not like I can do it, either."
Ivy sighed. "Is she getting worse?"
"Not yet." Isla gave us a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. It's just… going out and leaving her alone doesn't seem right. She might need something, and I know Rose too well to know she wouldn't call me to ask for help. Today she shoved me out of the door, saying I needed to live a little and have fun."
"She's not wrong," Ivy said. "Besides, we did have fun. Now Ava will go to see her hot guy, and nobody will bitch about her being anti-men. Am I right?"
Isla giggled. "Tasha's ears must be crimson."
"For more reasons than what I've said." Ivy wiggled her brows and grabbed her phone from the round oak table in front of us. "Look at this picture."
I leaned forward on the couch and took Ivy's phone. "Riley White?"
The young actress was stunning. That, and exceptionally talented. She starred in the movies based on Harper's and my favorite book series. With her long blond hair and expressive eyes, she was impossible not to like.
"Exactly." Ivy nodded, beaming. "Rumors say that she's been seen with Jim O'Brien on several occasions. Let's be real, Tasha can stalk the guy, but she doesn't stand a chance."
"I like Riley," said Isla. "She seems super down-to-earth, you know? Her fame didn't get to her head. I've read several interviews with her, and I love how approachable she is."
"Tasha must be licking her wounds, drawing hearts on Jim O'Brien's poster." Ivy put a finger under her chin. "Or throwing daggers at Riley's pictures."
"You're so bad." I handed Ivy's phone to Isla, who took a moment to study Riley's photo from one of the charity dinners she attended.
Ivy downed the rest of her coffee and shoved her arms in the sleeves of her jacket. "Not bad, just not naïve. We had a great time together, something that never happens when Tasha's around. If you can't be yourself in the presence of a friend, that's a glowing warning sign."
