It’s such crapola. Oh my God, Anna, look over there.” Susan nudged her chin toward the other side of the pool, where two good-looking guys chatted away on their cells. Plates of untouched sushi sat on a table between them.
“So?” Anna asked.
“What planet are you on? That’s Alex Souter and Noah Monahan.”
“Who are they?”
“Didn’t you see the Oscars? They won a best screenplay award together. And Alex, the taller one with the dark hair, just starred in a big Christmas action movie—I forget the name. But he was smoking. Noah, the blond, is turning to producing.”
It struck Anna as a significant accomplishment to have won an Academy Award for best screenplay. Not the level of a PEN/Faulkner Award for literature, but still. It would be interesting to be with a guy like that. Her best friend, Cyn, back in New York, would have already sauntered right over and introduced herself. Ten minutes later they’d probably have been making out in the Jacuzzi—all three of them.
I could be that girl
, Anna thought. The word
audacious
came to mind. Yes. She could be audacious. In control and audacious.
The waiter was at the pool bar. Anna excused herself and went to him, explained what she wanted, then returned to her chaise longue.
Susan eyed her, eyebrows raised. “What did you just do?”
“I just sent—what are their names again?”
“Those guys? Alex Souter and Noah Monahan.”
“Right.” Anna stretched out on the chaise. “I just sent them drinks.”
“Get out!” Susan said, laughing. “You did not. You’ve never done anything remotely like that in your entire life.”
“That,” Anna said, “is exactly the point of my being out here.”
Still, Anna’s stomach fluttered as she waited for the drinks to be delivered. She was keeping her eyes on the two famous guys, she hoped without being obvious about it, when Cammie and Dee entered the pool area and walked right over to them. The guys halted their conversations to take in the sight of Cammie in her white Vix bikini. Its low-cut mesh top emphasized the perfect 34D breasts she’d purchased; the minute bottom was held together by strings. Dee sported an Anna Sui blue-and-yellow gingham bikini that showed off the results of hundreds of spinning classes and yoga sessions. To Anna and Susan’s surprise, the guys put down their phones and started a conversation with Cammie and Dee.
Susan nudged Anna. “Tour friends
know
those guys?”
“They’re not my friends. And
we
had the secretary general of the UN to a dinner party in Mom’s brown-stone. I’d say that’s quite a bit more impressive.”
“I wouldn’t,” Susan said.
At that moment the waiter delivered Anna’s drinks to Noah and Alex. He set the two tall glasses garnished with mint leaves in front of them, then cocked his chin toward Anna to show they were from her.
“What did you send them?” Susan asked.
“Iced tea.”
“Long Island iced tea, I hope.”
“The nonalcoholic kind,” Anna admitted, blushing. Noah and Alex were looking over at her now. That part was fine. The problem was, so were Cammie and Dee. Cammie laughed and said something to Noah and Alex, which made them chuckle. The guys eyed Anna again and hoisted their drinks in a salute.
Smile
, she told herself.
Smile flirtatiously. Because what the hell
.
Cammie and Dee headed for Anna and Susan, Alex and Noah in tow. Which was not exactly how Anna had envisioned this encounter turning out. But then, how could she have known that Cammie and Dee knew the two writers?
“Oh my God, Alex and Noah are heading over here,” Susan hissed. She sucked in her stomach and tossed her hair over one eye. Anna didn’t do anything at all except wait and feel slightly ridiculous.
“Well, well, you two look comfy,” Cammie commented, stepping out of her strappy sandals. “We brought friends along.”
“So I see.” Susan smiled up at the famous guys. “Hi. I’m Susan.”
“Hey. I’m Alex and this is Noah,”
“So?” Anna asked.
“What planet are you on? That’s Alex Souter and Noah Monahan.”
“Who are they?”
“Didn’t you see the Oscars? They won a best screenplay award together. And Alex, the taller one with the dark hair, just starred in a big Christmas action movie—I forget the name. But he was smoking. Noah, the blond, is turning to producing.”
It struck Anna as a significant accomplishment to have won an Academy Award for best screenplay. Not the level of a PEN/Faulkner Award for literature, but still. It would be interesting to be with a guy like that. Her best friend, Cyn, back in New York, would have already sauntered right over and introduced herself. Ten minutes later they’d probably have been making out in the Jacuzzi—all three of them.
I could be that girl
, Anna thought. The word
audacious
came to mind. Yes. She could be audacious. In control and audacious.
The waiter was at the pool bar. Anna excused herself and went to him, explained what she wanted, then returned to her chaise longue.
Susan eyed her, eyebrows raised. “What did you just do?”
“I just sent—what are their names again?”
“Those guys? Alex Souter and Noah Monahan.”
“Right.” Anna stretched out on the chaise. “I just sent them drinks.”
“Get out!” Susan said, laughing. “You did not. You’ve never done anything remotely like that in your entire life.”
“That,” Anna said, “is exactly the point of my being out here.”
Still, Anna’s stomach fluttered as she waited for the drinks to be delivered. She was keeping her eyes on the two famous guys, she hoped without being obvious about it, when Cammie and Dee entered the pool area and walked right over to them. The guys halted their conversations to take in the sight of Cammie in her white Vix bikini. Its low-cut mesh top emphasized the perfect 34D breasts she’d purchased; the minute bottom was held together by strings. Dee sported an Anna Sui blue-and-yellow gingham bikini that showed off the results of hundreds of spinning classes and yoga sessions. To Anna and Susan’s surprise, the guys put down their phones and started a conversation with Cammie and Dee.
Susan nudged Anna. “Tour friends
know
those guys?”
“They’re not my friends. And
we
had the secretary general of the UN to a dinner party in Mom’s brown-stone. I’d say that’s quite a bit more impressive.”
“I wouldn’t,” Susan said.
At that moment the waiter delivered Anna’s drinks to Noah and Alex. He set the two tall glasses garnished with mint leaves in front of them, then cocked his chin toward Anna to show they were from her.
“What did you send them?” Susan asked.
“Iced tea.”
“Long Island iced tea, I hope.”
“The nonalcoholic kind,” Anna admitted, blushing. Noah and Alex were looking over at her now. That part was fine. The problem was, so were Cammie and Dee. Cammie laughed and said something to Noah and Alex, which made them chuckle. The guys eyed Anna again and hoisted their drinks in a salute.
Smile
, she told herself.
Smile flirtatiously. Because what the hell
.
Cammie and Dee headed for Anna and Susan, Alex and Noah in tow. Which was not exactly how Anna had envisioned this encounter turning out. But then, how could she have known that Cammie and Dee knew the two writers?
“Oh my God, Alex and Noah are heading over here,” Susan hissed. She sucked in her stomach and tossed her hair over one eye. Anna didn’t do anything at all except wait and feel slightly ridiculous.
“Well, well, you two look comfy,” Cammie commented, stepping out of her strappy sandals. “We brought friends along.”
“So I see.” Susan smiled up at the famous guys. “Hi. I’m Susan.”
“Hey. I’m Alex and this is Noah,”
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