BECOMING THE FABULOUS MISS C

By Angel Sentier and Lady Parsley

Chapter Five

"There's a woman coming to the party," Philip was saying to the burly doorman at the front of the restaurant. "I want you to look for her, because she's not on the list. I invited her as my guest this evening."

"Yes, Mr. Grayson, sir," said the man. He poised a pen over his clipboard. "Tell me her name and I'll add it."

Shit. Philip winced; this was what he had feared. "Uh... It started with a 'C,' I'm pretty sure. It was... Carrie. No... Carly. No... Kelly--"

"Kelly starts with a 'K,' sir."

"Damn it! Well, it was a 'kuh' sound." Becoming more embarrassed by the second, he struggled on. "Um, she's tall-ish..." He remembered the bill of her baseball cap had crashed into his chest, but since he was pretty tall himself, he wasn't sure if that was considered tall for a woman, or not. "She was wearing a shirt of some kind... With dark-ish, light-ish hair...?" He ended his lame description in a question, hoping the details would prove helpful.

The man's eyebrows drew together as though he were trying to concentrate on a particularly difficult problem. "So... You'd like me to be on the lookout for a woman of slightly above average height, wearing a shirt, with hair of some sort?"

He sighed. This was not helping. The woman that'd gone to the bar with him, while he had considered her pretty attractive, was admittedly fairly average to most others. "Look, she's got a VIP ticket. Just let her in, will you?"

"Of course, sir." The man looked incredibly relieved.

As he walked into the crowded restaurant the film company had rented for the evening, Philip smiled broadly at those who gathered around him, but had a distinctly dismal feeling that the one person who'd made him actually smile for the first time in a while wouldn't show.


Chloe arrived about an hour into the after-party and things looked to be getting into full-swing, if the music spilling out into the street was any indication. The cabbie brought the car to a halt directly in front of the doors and just smiled at her when she attempted to pay him.

"No charge," he said. "Denise is a friend. I help her sometimes with her little pet projects."

Not sure how to respond to that, she thanked him and got out of the car. As he drove off, she took a look at the red velvet ropes and the line of people outside, which stretched all the way down the street for a way. She didn't see Teri and figured the industry people must have gotten in already.

Well, at least I don't have to wait, she thought as she reached into the little red satin reticule Denise had given her.

However, before she had found her ticket, the doorman unhooked the rope draped across the sidewalk in front of her.

"Welcome to the party, miss," he said.

She blinked in surprise, but entered the building just the same. Before the doors closed behind her, she heard someone near the front of the line comment, "Figures... Just because she's somebody, she gets in without waiting..."

Not sure what she should be surprised about more, the fact that someone thought she was 'somebody,' or that the doorman had called her 'miss' rather than the ever-present 'ma'am,' she decided to forget both and made her way to the coat check. A smile spread across her features. I guess it's true, she thought. Clothes make the woman. I guess I do kind of feel like I 'belong'... Whatever that means.

She handed over the long black leather coat and the woman handed her a claim ticket and a tag that read 'Hello, My Name Is' along with a marker. Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Is this really necessary?" she asked, feeling decidedly kindergarten.

The woman shrugged, rolling her eyes. "They said it's for the benefit of the movie's star. Apparently, he can't be bothered to remember anyone's name."

That's pretty assuming, thought Chloe, even though she probably had thought the same thing a few times after hearing the rumor. But after talking with Mr. Grayson, she knew she'd never think it again. She wrote 'C-H-L-O-E' on the nametag, then paused and stuffed it in the reticule. "Can I have a new tag? I messed this one up."

The woman handed her a fresh tag and on this one, Chloe wrote simply 'Miss C.' No need to advertise that I'm here, she thought. She stuck the tag on her chest, praying that Denise would forgive her for ruining the ensemble, and entered the large dining room.

The place was packed. Most of the tables in the "pit" area of the restaurant had been removed to allow for a spacious dance floor and a DJ at one end had a set up that boasted flashing multi-colored lights and a disco ball. Around this was a slightly elevated area, where the tables were all still intact, for those who wanted to sit. Servers milled about, carrying flutes of champagne and mixed drinks from the bar, bringing empty glasses back.

She didn't see Ginger or Teri... but she saw him. Sitting at one of the larger tables near the other end of the restaurant, surrounded by beautiful women, as she predicted he would be, and several powerful-looking men. Their eyes were focused on him, but his attention was elsewhere. Every so often, his head would swivel around, and he'd crane his neck to see over the crowd as though looking for something.

He's watching for me, came the sudden unbidden thought, which she hastily shook away. That couldn't possibly be it. There's no way! But even as she thought it, his eyes settled on her and didn't stray.

She resisted the urge to look behind her to make sure it wasn't someone else he was looking at. She smiled at him as if to say 'Well, I'm here,' and he rose from his seat, quickly excused himself from the group he'd been sitting with, and began to make his way over to her.

I don't believe it, she thought, excitement mounting. He really did want me to come tonight! Me! Plain, old Chloe Ashton!

Before she could give it another thought, he stood before her, smiling and taking her hand. In this atmosphere, he looked even more delicious than he had at the bar. She was about to apologize for being so late when he said, "I don't think we've been introduced... I'm Philip Grayson."

Her lips parted, but nothing came out. He doesn't recognize me! she thought, outraged. I left him like, an hour ago, and he doesn't recognize me! What the hell!

"How do you do," she replied, taking her hand from him. "If you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone." And leaving him open-mouthed behind her, she fumed off in the direction of the bar.

Of all the stupid ideas... Why did I come here, risking my neck, just because he's hyper-cute and kind of a nice guy... I let a cross-dresser treat me like his own personal Barbie doll and then he doesn't even have the decency to recognize who I am! Halfway to the bar, she slowed. Wait a second... Involuntarily, she snickered. It was actually pretty funny. Well, I guess I can't really blame him. I do look pretty different, and we only spent about an hour together. I shouldn't expect him to--

Her thought process was interrupted as a cosmopolitan rimmed in pink sugar was presented before her. When her eyes followed the arm extending it to her, she found herself looking at David Pinschlow, one of the many junior executives at the advertising company. She recognized him because she'd had to say Ginger was in a meeting several times, while this guy and her tyrannical boss were really screwing on her desk.

"Hello, there," he said to her, and it was only too plain that he hadn't the foggiest idea who she was. If he had, he would never have spoken to her. "Care for a drink?"

It was hard not to laugh, because the look he was giving her was aiming for suggestive, but on him it just looked smarmy. While Normal Chloe would have gotten flustered and politely searched for a way to decline and back away slowly, Miss C gave him a condescending look, raised an eyebrow as if to say 'you're way out of your league,' and walked off, throwing a casual "Excuse me" over her shoulder.

With her outside perfectly composed, inside she was giggling madly and turning cartwheels as she continued walking toward the bar. I just totally dissed one of the junior execs! And it felt GREAT! Muahahaha...

Her victory moment was cut short however, as someone roughly bumped into her shoulder and Chloe turned to see none other than the red-haired beast herself. Ginger threw a venomous look right at Chloe, freezing her in place, and she knew she was caught.

"Watch where you're going!" Ginger snapped, and she swiveled around to continue walking toward the ladies' room.

It took Chloe a few seconds to register what had just happened. Not even Ginger recognizes me! Oh. My. God! Hmm... She looked around, having no trouble finding the esteemed guest of honor whom she'd previously deserted. I wonder how far I could take this... With a smile, she turned around and walked back across the restaurant to where Philip was just taking a glass of champagne from a passing server.

His expression was gratifyingly startled when she reappeared at his elbow.

"The person I was looking for didn't show. I'll talk to you," she said conversationally.

He stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You sure run hot and cold, don't you?"

"What can I say?" she said, giving him a flirtatious look from beneath her eyelashes. "Some like it hot and... Well, I'm sure you know the rest." She smiled.

"I'm pretty sure I do," he said, returning her smile. "Well, once again, I'm Philip Grayson. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She extended her hand to him, palm down. "Miss C."

After a momentary hesitation, he seemed to catch on and took the tips of her fingers in hand, bending over her knuckles slightly, though falling short of kissing them. His half-smile indicated, however, that he was enjoying the playfulness. "Missy?"

"No. Miss C," she repeated, enunciating the words. "It's not my real name, so you should be able to remember it, right?"

"How did you know that?"

"It's fairly common knowledge, Mr. Grayson." She indicated the people around them. "I would guess that's why everyone here is wearing a name tag."

"Oh... Right."

This is incredible, thought Chloe. I'm charming and witty... As myself, all I can ever manage is sarcastic. Too much time spent around Tessa will do that to you... I wonder how long it'll take him to catch on that it's me...

"So," she said, noticing that he glanced over her shoulder momentarily. "Shall I tell you how brilliant I thought the movie was, and how spectacular you were in it, or shall I tell you the truth?"

He laughed shortly and tossed back the champagne. "I'm well aware that the movie is garbage. It's nice to see someone else knows it, too." He gestured around them. "All these people... Falling over themselves to lie right to my face... Pretty sad, isn't it?"

She stared at him for a moment, taking in the slightly glazed eyes. Mentally, she calculated. He'd had two drinks with her at the bar, she guessed at least one more while she was being transformed, he'd just drank a glass of champagne like it was water, and chances were he'd probably had at least one drink on the way to the premiere. He was fit, he had a little muscle mass that would slow down the alcohol, but he wasn't huge, so if he kept this pace up, he'd be on the floor before the night was over.

"Are you drunk?" she asked.

He set the flute down on the tray of a passing server. "Not yet."

She leaned in to whisper, "Is it because of the movie?"

"What was your first clue?" He gestured toward the bar. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Can I get you a drink? I think you might need it more than I."

"We could get each other a drink."

She noticed for the second time that he was looking over her shoulder. She reached up and tilted his face back to her. "I'm down here, sweetheart. Are you with me, or are you waiting for someone else?"

"Sorry," he said. "I invited someone, but it looks like she's not going to show."

Chloe was taken aback. He was waiting for me, she thought. She decided then not to carry out the charade any longer. "Maybe she will," she said. "Philip--"

Someone else bumped into her from behind then, setting her off-balance in the tall rhinestone shoes. Luckily, Philip caught her by the elbow before she could fall. "Oops," said a voice that was only too familiar to Chloe. She didn't want to, but there seemed to be a gravitational pull that made her turn and look at Jason, who was dancing, if you could call the grinding movement that, with Staci.

However, Philip chose then to say, "Why don't we sit down? This isn't the best place to have a conversation."

Taking a deep breath, she managed to regain her composure and nodded. She led the way to the bar and ordered them two Amaretto Sours. "It's a pretty girly drink," she said, privately teasing him. "But I think you're man enough to even things out."

"...Thanks?"

"No problem." They took their drinks to an empty table and sat down. "So, you were saying something about how sad it is that all these people think you're God at the moment? I couldn't agree more. I can't stand it when people are kissing my ass," she said, dryly.

"Tell me about it," he said. "I just had mine waxed."

She stared at him. "Okay, first, EW. And second, owww! Why would you do that to yourself?"

"Let me put it to you this way... If I didn't, I'd make Robin Williams look like a hairless Chihuahua."

"Ew!"

He laughed. "No, I'm only kidding."

"About the hairless Chihuahua part, or the waxing part?"

"Both. I don't like pain and I'm not that hairy. Thank God."

"You don't like pain? But you do your own stunts."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah. And this is my real hair."

"What, is it a wig?"

"No."

"Is it a piece? Because if it is, it's a really good one--"

"No! I mean the color!"

"Well, obviously!" she said. "Do you think this is my real hair?"

"What, is it a wig?" he asked, sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, yes!"

"Oh..." He took a sip of his drink, looking thoughtful. "That's... strange."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you just seem... different."

"Thanks?"

"I mean different from all these people," he said, gesturing with his glass at everyone else. "You weren't afraid to tell me my movie doth suck o'rly much."

Chloe snickered.

"When I said it was sad," he continued. "I meant that it's sad all these people are so fake. They don't mean what they say, they just want a chance to grab at some glory, find favor with someone just little higher up. Later on, when the numbers come in, they can all claim they knew that it was going to tank and how terrible they thought it was. In fact, more and more recently, I find myself just wishing for something real."

"Are you kidding me?" asked Chloe. "Reality is harsh. Why do you think people involve themselves in Hollywood romances so much? Because it's the fairy tale. There's comfort in what is fake. People want to believe in something. When Brad and Jen broke up, my friend called and you'd think it had happened to her! When everything is fake, there's no skinned knees, no heartbreak. It's all perfect. Isn't that what everyone wants?"

"Let me tell you," said Philip. "I have been swimming in fake for a while now, and there is plenty of heartbreak. It might look perfect on the outside, but that's only because there are about twenty people working behind the scenes to make sure it looks perfect. You want to know why I looked so good with my last three girlfriends? Because my agent picked them out specifically to compliment my skin tone and style of dress. I'm really tired of having relationships that are only perfect on the surface."

"Actual perfection can't be obtained, that's why people believe in the fake. It's as close as they can get to perfect."

"I disagree. I think that people are so hung up on searching for what they think is perfect, they don't see that they already have it. I want to be able to not be perfect for someone... and have them think that I am anyway."

"Ah... You want the real fairy tale." Chloe smiled wistfully. "I used to believe in it, too."

"Used to?"

"Let's just say I've been hit in the face with reality a little too hard and I've been somewhat scarred. If I took off this mask of fake, everything that's making me look the way I am right now, you wouldn't even recognize me." She paused, seeing another opportunity to tell him the truth. "Or maybe you would... Philip--"

"Mr. Grayson," a smooth voice cut in.

Chloe inwardly groaned. Her boss would have to butt in at the most inconvenient time. She turned to see not only Ginger, but Staci and Jason in tow as well. She had a momentary surge of victory when Jason's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as he gaped at her. She was confident that he didn't recognize her either when he took her hand and leaned over it.

"Enchanté," he said, butchering the French word.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp before he could lay a kiss across her knuckles. "It's a hand, not a bone, dog-boy. No slobbering." It was particularly satisfying to see the stunned expression this cutting remark gave him, as well as Staci elbowing him in the stomach.

"You're missing out on your own party, Mr. Grayson," Ginger said, seemingly ignoring the exchange. Her amethyst eyes slid to Chloe, her smile sweet but her gaze shooting a vicious warning. "It's not nice to commandeer all of the guest of honor's time, honey."

"Is that right?" said Chloe. She finished the last of her drink and stood. "I'll be back later, then."

"Oh, going to the ladies' room to powder your nose?" said Staci, sweetly.

Chloe looked over her shoulder at the two barracudas. "No, honey. I just can't stand the company." She looked at Philip, who had also stood. "Mr. Grayson, if you'll excuse me..."

She was half-way across the room when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Panic gripped her for a moment, sure that Ginger or Staci had recognized her, but when she turned, it was Philip who had caught up to her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought we were just having a friendly debate... Did I say something to offend you?"

She blinked, then smiled, amused. "No, hon. It's just that, in addition to the fact that I find the company that is now 'commandeering your time' somewhat distasteful, I have to pee. We girls do go pee, you know. Sometimes we even do it alone. Unless you wanted to come with me, although there may be one or two people who might put up an argument..."

He smiled, seeming to relax at her teasing. "Oh... You will come back, right?"

She patted his face. "Sure. I think I can do that." She turned and left him for the third time that night, stomach turning flip-flops.

In the privacy of the little stall in the ladies' room, Chloe tapped her feet excitedly on the floor. She couldn't help it; it was exhilarating to know that one of her favorite actors, no... that Philip enjoyed her company. He could have his pick of any beautiful woman in the room, and he wanted her to come back.

When she returned, she found Philip seated at a larger table with Ginger, Staci, and Jason. His eyes went wide when he saw her approaching, telling her without words, Save me now, please! She smiled, not even able to fathom how many times she had thought that very sentiment.

She stopped before the table and extended her hand to Philip. "Let's dance," she said, interrupting what Ginger was saying to him about the ad campaign.

As he gratefully took her hand, the red head's eyes flashed fire at her. "We were in the middle of a conversation, honey."

Chloe shrugged. "Too bad." She pulled Philip to his feet and walked with him out to the pit.

Philip leaned down and buried his face against her shoulder for a moment, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. "You really don't care who you piss off, do you?" he said when he straightened back up.

She smiled. "I have the unfortunate pleasure of knowing her. She deserves it."

"Did you notice her nametag?" he asked. "She dots the 'i' with a little heart."

"In my experience," said Chloe, saying so because she did have personal experience with Ginger, "the cutesier the signature, the bitchier the woman is."

He stared at her, then shook his head. "There are rules you women have that I will never understand."

With her arms wrapped around his neck, she pulled him closer. She could smell the liquor on his breath and figured that, were he not leaning on her, it was unlikely that he would be able to stand on his own. He was pretty drunk, but still trying to keep his composure.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said.

"Ask away."

"Have you ever met anyone where you just wanted to cut out all the small talk and conversation, and just make out with them? Just shove them up against a wall and have your way with them until they cry out for release?"

His eyes went very large and he stared at her, his mouth falling open. "...What?"

She continued to pull him closer until their lips were scant inches apart. The heat from his body radiated through their clothes to her and she swiveled her hips against his to the beat of the music. "I'm serious. Someone you wanted to skip all the bullshit with and just go at it. And it wouldn't even matter if you were in public or not."

"Um... I..." he stuttered.

She smiled, pulling away to a slightly more decent distance. "I didn't think so." She glanced at her watch over his shoulder; 11:28pm. She had to leave if she was going to be home by midnight. "Unfortunately, Mr. Grayson, from here you will be on your own. I have to leave."

"Leave? It's still early."

She shrugged. "And that's why I have to leave." She winked at him. "More mysterious that way, don't you think?"

He smiled. "Sure." He pulled away from her and extended a hand. "Thank you for an hour and a half of good company."

"The pleasure's all mine," she said, taking his hand. His palm was warm, smooth. You're never going to have another opportunity like this again, she thought, suddenly. Do something daring! Acting on impulse, she tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him to her, kissing him soundly on the lips, with tongue and everything. After a moment of initial shock, he relaxed into it and just a few seconds after he did, she pulled back, smiling at his dazed expression.

"Thanks," she said, meaning it with everything she had. A familiar sense of imminent danger niggled her senses and she glanced at the tables to see Ginger storming over. She looked back at Philip. "Gotta go." And with that, she disappeared into the crowd.

As she collected her jacket from the coat check, she privately celebrated, unable to stop smiling. I'm so glad Denise convinced me to come tonight. This has been the most awesome party ever!

It was a little sad to know that, come morning, she'd be back to taking everyone's crap, but nothing Ginger, Staci, or Princess could ever do or say would wipe this memory from her mind. For one night, she had been the superior one.

As she was being shown through the front doors, a group of people also walking out jostled her slightly as they were forced to move to one side as another group was coming in. Again, she almost lost her balance, but the person she had bumped into steadied her. She looked up to see a blond man scowling after the people who had just gone inside. Something about him unnerved Chloe, because it wasn't just annoyance in that expression, it was... malice? The look didn't quite mix with his appearance, and that only served to make him more unsettling. How did someone who looked so mid-western also manage to look so threatening?

He looked down at her then with clear blue eyes, the hard look changing subtly to one of interest. She realized then that while she'd been staring, he'd maintained his hold around her waist. Instantly, she righted herself out of the intimate position, embarrassed for not doing so sooner.

"Sorry," she said.

"Why?" he asked, smiling when she had no answer. "Got the time?"

"That depends," said Chloe, still in 'flirt-mode.' "Time for what?" Now, he was the one without an answer. She had the distinct impression it wasn't often that someone one-upped this man. "I guess not," she said and headed off to hail a cab. "Thanks for the help... Hector," she added as she glanced at his name tag.

For five minutes, she tried to hail a cab. She glanced at her watch as the third one passed right by. Geez...If cabs won't even stop for a gorgeous woman, no wonder I had so many problems in my normal attire. It was 11:39pm, if she didn't get a cab soon, she wasn't going to make the midnight curfew and she was only too aware that she needed to be awake at five in the morning.

A hand tapped her on the shoulder. "Need a ride?"

For a split-second, she almost expected it to be Philip, but she turned to see Hector standing behind her, a lit cigarette in one hand.

"My mother always told me not to accept rides from strangers," she said with a coquettish smile.

He glanced around. "I don't see your mother here," he said.

"Neither do I."

"That makes it all right then, doesn't it." He didn't make it a question.

She pursed her lips slightly, snapping herself out of 'flirt-mode' for a moment. "If you take me home, you're not going to be invited in and I'm not interested in playing in the car, either. Still want to drive me?"

If anything, her statement only seemed to interest him more. "Is that right?" He paused and took a long drag off his cigarette, then threw it in the gutter. "Okay. Let's go."

The clock was ticking, so she went with him to his car. As they passed the group he had walked out with, he nodded a curt farewell to an older woman with gray hair, but Chloe was only afforded a quick look at the others as she hurried after him.

She gave Hector her street name and they took off in his sleek black car. 'Took off' was a rough term... 'Rocketed' was more accurate. Unable to help herself, Chloe grabbed the door handle as he sped around corners and chanced yellow lights. Thank God it was late and there weren't as many people out.

"Do you always drive like a maniac?" she couldn't help but ask.

He looked at her quickly, but then laughed slightly. "I'm a little pissed," he said. "Someone we were waiting for never showed. I guess it's coming out in my driving." His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "He'll have it in when I get a hold of him..."

Chloe glanced at him and shivered. Something about Hector was rather primal. In the right guy, that could be really sexy, but with him... it was kind of creepy. Again, she couldn't put her finger directly on it, but she was unnerved by him.

"I can walk it from here," she said when he stopped on her street. She had the distinct feeling that he shouldn't drive her up to the apartment.

"Are you sure?" he said, eyes narrowing a bit.

"Yeah," she said, opening the door of the car. As she reached for her reticule, his hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, tightly, but not hurting her. Even so, her eyes gave him a warning. "Hey, I already said you're not going to get any..."

"I know," he said, smiling, but the flash of teeth was far from friendly. "I just thought I'd say goodnight."

He turned her hand over and slowly leaned down, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. A shiver tripped down Chloe's spine... but then his tongue darted out, licking the same place, and the shiver turned to the feeling of ants crawling over her. She pulled her arm back, distinctly creeped out.

"Uh... thanks. For the ride," she clarified as she quickly got out of the car. She waited for him to drive away down the street before she went all the way up to her apartment door. For the first time all night, she realized her feet were aching.

"Denise wasn't kidding," she said. "Two hours in one-hour shoes is not fun..." She sat on her bed and took them off, discovering the right one had left a half-moon shaped bruise on the outside of her foot. "Ouch..."

Suddenly, taking off her clothes seemed like too monumental an effort to make, so she lied down and pulled the covers over herself. The numbers on her bedside clock changed to 12:00am just as she closed her eyes.


Thank God, thought Tessa as she looked at the unmoving figure beside her. Jeff's finally asleep... Tessa knew that when he had brought her over to pick up her car, she wouldn't be leaving right away, but the man was an animal when it came to sex! Very carefully and slowly, she eased herself out from under his arm.

This is not normal, she thought as she searched for her clothing. He should have lost interest... He says he's not stalking me, but... I have to talk to somebody about this. After finding one of her shirts, she tiptoed out into the main room and picked up Jeff's phone.

It wasn't until she'd already dialed Teri's number that she realized it was way after three in the morning. However, Teri didn't even answer her phone. After five rings, Tessa hung up. "Of course she wouldn't answer, she sleeps like the dead," she said to herself, then clapped a hand over her mouth. She listened intently, but no sounds came from the next room, so she dialed Chloe's number.

The phone rang three times before it picked up. There was a shuffling noise, then Chloe's groggy voice. "Somebody better be dead," she said, her words slurring together.

"Chloe, shhh!" She couldn't take the chance that Chloe talking too loud would wake Jeff either.

"Shh? Who is this?"

At least she sounded more alert. "It's Tessa!" she whispered.

"Tessa... Why are we whispering?"

She winced, but told the truth, despite what she knew her friend would think. "Because I'm trying not to wake someone up."

"Oh, Tessa," she groaned, predictably.

She could worry about what Chloe thought of her promiscuity later. "I have a problem," she said. "I think it's a big problem... but I'm not sure. It may not be a problem at all..." She let out a frustrated sigh, aware that even if Chloe weren't half-asleep, she wouldn't be making much sense to her. "I have to talk to you and Teri."

"Are you pregnant?"

"No!"

"Then why did you have to call me this early? Why didn't you call Teri at three-thirty in the morning?"

"I tried. She probably slept right through the phone ringing."

"Well, I'm not going to talk to you about this now."

"Why not?" If she had to, she could pull out the fact that Chloe owed her for taking out the three bitches.

"It's three-thirty in the fucking morning!"

"Shh!" But she had a point.

Chloe sighed; Tessa could tell she was becoming more awake as she tried to think of a solution that would make everyone happy. "Look, why don't you meet us at Le Chere Canard for lunch tomorrow... Er, today."

"They have lunch there?" Tessa had never been to their favorite restaurant for the lunch shift, she was always working.

"This may be news to you, Tessa, but life does not start at dinnertime."

"Shut up."

"Oh, wait; you have to work, don't you?"

Tessa glanced at her heavily bandaged hand that was beginning to throb again as the painkillers were wearing off. "No. I can't type for at least a week."

"What? Why?"

There was a sound of a body moving around on the bed in the next room, and sheets rustling. Tessa muffled the phone and went very still for a few seconds, but it definitely sounded as though Jeff was waking up. She uncovered the phone and whispered rapidly, "I have to go. I'll explain later."

She hung up the phone as Jeff opened the bedroom door, in all his naked glory. Her mouth watered as he smiled sleepily at her. "Hello, beautiful... Why are you out here and not in bed with me?"

"I had to pee," she said. "Problem?"

"Yes," he said, coming over. He wrapped his arms around her and turned his face to her neck for a moment. "You are wearing way too many clothes..." he murmured, his lips against her skin. "I'll have to fix that."

There was no way she could argue as he pulled her back into the bedroom.

To be continued...