coming out in a few months. You should convince Jules to bring you to the premiere in Hollywood. I would ask her, but…”
She doesn’t finish her thought because it’s pretty much a useless comment. She knows Jules wouldn’t want to go, and I can completely understand. If there’s anything I understand, it’s sibling issues. “I’ll ask her.”
“No. Never mind. Stupid for me to even bring it up.” She edges around in her chair, making herself more comfortable, and changes the direction of the conversation. “So how did Jules and you meet?”
I shift my eyes back to Jules, realizing we never talked about how we met. Well, time to make up some bullshit. “A bar.” Easy enough—people meet at bars all the time. Lisa crumples up her nose and I can’t help but notice. “What’s wrong?”
“Jules hates bars. I think her boyfriend before you broke up with her in a bar. It’s just funny that you two met at one.”
“Oh yeah, well. She was out celebrating her friend’s promotion or something. Anyway, I ordered her drinks, but she refused them. It wasn’t until bar close that she allowed me to exchange numbers with her. Then from there, we took off.”
“How long have you been together?”
“Seven months. Which doesn’t seem like a long time, but”—I chuckle, turning in Jules’ direction to see her engaged in a conversation with her mom—”if you know Jules, it takes less than an hour to figure her out. And I’m crazy about what I’ve figured out so far.” That’s the genuine truth.
“Hmm…” Lisa hums, appearing in deep thought. “Did she ever mention us to you? Like who we are?”
“Nope. Needless to say, I was a bit taken aback walking into the cabin to find Oscars and Golden Globes awards hanging around on bookshelves.”
Reaching across to me, she places her hand on my forearm, and bends forward. “No need to make a big deal about it. We’re just like the rest of the world. Only we poop out gold.” She winks, and I’m offended. She’s flirting with me, and I say a little prayer, hoping the rest of the weekend doesn’t involve her flirtation. It goes without saying that, from working in a bar, I’ve met a lot of Lisa Stone types. They think they are top shelf due to their looks, their sex appeal. But there’s nothing sexy about it. Plus, they normally turn out to be shitty in bed. The ones who surprise the hell out of me in the bedroom are the quirky ones, the shy ones, and the ones who embarrass easily. They always bring their A game. Lisa Stone is probably a solid D+ under the sheets. But Jules? Let’s just say I still want to bang my boss.
“It’s funny. Jules never said how good-looking you are. It would definitely be something she would’ve mentioned, too. Jules is always trying to outdo me.” I don’t reply, mainly because her comment is out of left field, awkward, and uncomfortable. “I remember when I auditioned for my first movie. I was eleven, and Jules was twelve. After I landed the part, she showed up with straight As. Just to downplay my success.”
“Maybe she wanted to be noticed, too.”
“No, she did it to be spiteful.”
I laugh at the idea of a twelve-year-old being spiteful. “She was a kid.”
Lisa stares into me, and her eyes are not anything like her sister’s gentle eyes. Lisa’s eyes are completely devoid of the sweetness and sensitivity in Jules’ eyes. Her lips part as she whispers, “It was my first movie. I could have had that moment.” She takes another sip of her drink and smiles. “Wow, this is delish. Do you think you can drop a cherry into it?” She leans in closer, and I see the pink lace on her bra fighting its way out of her shirt. I look under the cabinet and see a fresh jar of cherries, and then I look up and see Jules staring at me from the living room, a frown on her lips. When her eyes meet mine, I mouth the words, “You all right?” toward her and she nods, mouthing the same question to me. My left shoulder
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