Read Online The Rock Star in Seat by Jill Kargman - Free Book Online
Authors: Jill Kargman
Ads: Link
shit was actually fun and enjoyable. They even had a footrest for my outstretched gams.
I exited feeling like a million bucks. I hoped it wouldn’t get addictive, I could get used to this, like my sister with her weekly standing appointments at Frédéric Fekkai. I drove back to my hotel where I tried to figure out what to wear, eventually settling on my same jeans but this time a slightly more feminine white lace blouse with piping of black velvet ribbons around the short sleeves. It was Edwardian granny-chic but remained a tad sexy, due to my black cami underneath. I exhaled in front of the mirror. Less is more, I thought. Especially ’cause Finn was used to Hooters Girls and the like. Better to be myself. Better to be demure. Better to keep him guessing.
“You look beautiful,” he said as I hopped in the passenger side as he stood next to the open door.
“Oh, thanks,” I replied, blushing a little.
He got back in the car and gunned out of the driveway, flying down the streets in his small Porsche. Normally it was what Wylie and I called an SPC, Small Penis Car, but somehow Finn had a Get Out of Jail Free Card because he was an actual rock star whereas all other douche bags who drove expensive sports cars were merely trying to look like one.
“I love L.A.,” I said, staring out the window. “I don’t know why everyone in New York L.A. bashes for sport.”
“Well, it’s not as sophisticated, for one,” Finn said. “I love living here but I have this insatiable urge to travel. I hate staying in one place for too long. I must’ve descended from nomads or something; I’m one of those people who just needs to be on the move. Especially if this is my base. I miss Europe too much. Asia.”
“I could see that. If it’s just sunshine and convertibles forever,” I replied. “Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top.”
“That part’s not so bad,” he joked with a wink. “But even I know there’s a dark side here if you look for it. And you don’t have to look too hard.”
So weird! I’d thought that exact thing before a million times.
“My theory has always been that New York admits to its dark side in its weather and gray pavement and people on top of each other,” I explained, surveying the lights. “Whereas there’s just as much of it here but it’s all sunglasses and cherry red cars and boobie implants, but it’s smoke and mirrors. There’s just as much competition and relentless drive, it’s just cruising beneath the surface, which makes it creepier. I do like how New York wears its edge on its sleeve.”
We drove the opening credits of the Entourage strip complete with tacky signage and dizzying downward views of orange-lit lights and rooftops as far as I could see.
“That is a very good theory, New York is more openly hostile and then you’re happily surprised when people are nice and warm, whereas here you think of it as friendly but there’s just as much hostility,” he said. “If not more. Someone pats you on the back but they’re pissing down your leg.”
“I just think of L.A. Story where all the weatherman has to do is shove up some magnetic suns with shades on. Sun! Sun! Sun!” I said in a singsongy mock-happy voice. “But I love the rainy days. People here freak like it’s fucking acid falling on their hairdos.”
“I love when it’s cold here. I fuckin’ hate sweating my balls off. But I hate freezing them off, too.”
“Yeah, well. I can see that. If you didn’t grow up with seasons. I mean, even I’m dreading going back to my coat and scarves and hats and Rudolph nose.”
“How long are you here until?” he asked.
“I leave tomorrow,” I lamented, suddenly. “But I’m back again in two weeks and then for the event two weeks after that. I’m sooo excited to see this space of yours.”
“Should we go now or after dinner?”
“Whatever you want!”
“I’m starving.”
Yay, I was, too. Desperately.
Chapter 14
Without this playing with fantasy no
I exited feeling like a million bucks. I hoped it wouldn’t get addictive, I could get used to this, like my sister with her weekly standing appointments at Frédéric Fekkai. I drove back to my hotel where I tried to figure out what to wear, eventually settling on my same jeans but this time a slightly more feminine white lace blouse with piping of black velvet ribbons around the short sleeves. It was Edwardian granny-chic but remained a tad sexy, due to my black cami underneath. I exhaled in front of the mirror. Less is more, I thought. Especially ’cause Finn was used to Hooters Girls and the like. Better to be myself. Better to be demure. Better to keep him guessing.
“You look beautiful,” he said as I hopped in the passenger side as he stood next to the open door.
“Oh, thanks,” I replied, blushing a little.
He got back in the car and gunned out of the driveway, flying down the streets in his small Porsche. Normally it was what Wylie and I called an SPC, Small Penis Car, but somehow Finn had a Get Out of Jail Free Card because he was an actual rock star whereas all other douche bags who drove expensive sports cars were merely trying to look like one.
“I love L.A.,” I said, staring out the window. “I don’t know why everyone in New York L.A. bashes for sport.”
“Well, it’s not as sophisticated, for one,” Finn said. “I love living here but I have this insatiable urge to travel. I hate staying in one place for too long. I must’ve descended from nomads or something; I’m one of those people who just needs to be on the move. Especially if this is my base. I miss Europe too much. Asia.”
“I could see that. If it’s just sunshine and convertibles forever,” I replied. “Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top.”
“That part’s not so bad,” he joked with a wink. “But even I know there’s a dark side here if you look for it. And you don’t have to look too hard.”
So weird! I’d thought that exact thing before a million times.
“My theory has always been that New York admits to its dark side in its weather and gray pavement and people on top of each other,” I explained, surveying the lights. “Whereas there’s just as much of it here but it’s all sunglasses and cherry red cars and boobie implants, but it’s smoke and mirrors. There’s just as much competition and relentless drive, it’s just cruising beneath the surface, which makes it creepier. I do like how New York wears its edge on its sleeve.”
We drove the opening credits of the Entourage strip complete with tacky signage and dizzying downward views of orange-lit lights and rooftops as far as I could see.
“That is a very good theory, New York is more openly hostile and then you’re happily surprised when people are nice and warm, whereas here you think of it as friendly but there’s just as much hostility,” he said. “If not more. Someone pats you on the back but they’re pissing down your leg.”
“I just think of L.A. Story where all the weatherman has to do is shove up some magnetic suns with shades on. Sun! Sun! Sun!” I said in a singsongy mock-happy voice. “But I love the rainy days. People here freak like it’s fucking acid falling on their hairdos.”
“I love when it’s cold here. I fuckin’ hate sweating my balls off. But I hate freezing them off, too.”
“Yeah, well. I can see that. If you didn’t grow up with seasons. I mean, even I’m dreading going back to my coat and scarves and hats and Rudolph nose.”
“How long are you here until?” he asked.
“I leave tomorrow,” I lamented, suddenly. “But I’m back again in two weeks and then for the event two weeks after that. I’m sooo excited to see this space of yours.”
“Should we go now or after dinner?”
“Whatever you want!”
“I’m starving.”
Yay, I was, too. Desperately.
Chapter 14
Without this playing with fantasy no
Similar Books
