Page 3 of Long Story Short

TWO

JOSIE

My phone vibrating on my nightstand for what feels like the twentieth time pulls me from my pity party.

I groan, pushing myself off my mattress to see who’s calling. I have a pretty good idea who it is.

Scarlett, my best friend.

I swipe to answer, though I really wish I could ignore it for now.

The moment her face pops onto the screen, she’s opening her mouth to lecture me. “Josephine Lynn Russell, why have you been ignoring me?” Her red eyebrows pinch together on her forehead as she stares at me through the phone screen.

I let out a long sigh as I lie down on the mattress once again. I pull my comforter up to my chin as I think about how much I want to tell her. Scarlett’s been my best friend since we met in high school. We both attended the same fine arts school, and from the first day of orientation, we were attached at the hip. She knows me better than anyone, and I also know her better than anyone. The moment she hears about what happened with Eli this morning, she’s going to be pissed. I wouldn’t put it past her to call HR at my publisher and find a way to get him fired. Or she might make it even worse and take it to her social media, where she’s got millions of followers, and blast his name all over the internet, letting her fans do the job for her.

“Josie,” Scarlett prods, bringing the phone closer to her face. She looks concerned, something that Scarlett isn’t often.

“Where are you?” I ask, looking at the background of the video. There are countless wigs and mannequin heads behind her.

She scoffs and dramatically rolls her eyes. “The hair trailer.” She pulls the phone away from her face, turning it so I can see more of her surroundings. She keeps going until I’m met with the face of a middle-aged woman. “Say hi to Kate,” she practically sings.

My cheeks turn red as I realize that Scarlett isn’t alone. “Hi,” I mutter, considering covering my face with the comforter to hide from her.

Scarlett aims the phone back at herself once again. “I’m wearing headphones, so she can’t hear you, but I’ll let her know you said hi. Now, tell me what’s wrong and why you’re ignoring your best friend.”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been busy.”

She rolls her eyes again. “You’re never too busy for me.”

“Says the girl who takes three to five business days to even text me back.”

Scarlett pouts for a moment as if my words actually hurt her. It’s nothing but the truth. If someone were to get a hold of my texts with Scarlett, they might think I’m talking to myself. Most of our conversations are through calls because that’s the only way to get a hold of her. “You know a lot of times they don’t even let me have my phone on set,” she explains once she’s done pouting. “And then the other times, my phone is with my assistant or in my trailer.”

I smile because I understand how busy she is. Her acting career has blown up in the last few years. She went from begging to be an extra in indie films to being the actress who could have any role she wanted. The fact that she’s able to make any time for me at all means a lot. “I know. It’s totally fine.”

She smiles and sits back in her chair. The hairstylist—Kate—begins to take a brush through Scarlett’s long, red locks as Scarlett stares at me through the screen. “So tell me what’s wrong. You know I’m going to be annoying and not let it go, so you might as well get it over with.”

I groan because she’s right. “I turned in my manuscript today.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh yes! I totally forgot that was today. Then why do you seem so sad? Aren’t you excited you’re out of deadline hell?”

“Because they hate it and told me to rewrite it.”

Scarlett gasps. “No they didn’t.” She shakes her head back and forth in shock. I can’t help but let my lips break into a soft smile at the sight of the hairstylist trying to keep up with Scarlett’s quick movements.

I nod. “They did. And by they…well, the leader of the Your book sucks, Josephine! club was Eli.”

Scarlett quickly sits forward in her chair, letting loose another gasp, this one louder than the one before. She’s the drama to my calm. I love her for it. It’s even better because her dramatics have the hairstylist holding a brush in the air as she waits for Scarlett to sit back again. “You’re lying.”

I swallow past a growing lump in my throat. “I’m unfortunately telling the truth. My editor agreed with Eli, but he was definitely leading the charge for me needing to rewrite this book.”

“God, why do we have such terrible taste in men?” Scarlett mutters.

I bite my tongue, wanting to point out that not all of the men she’s dated were terrible. I think her ex Grayson was really good to her and was madly in love with her, but if I even utter his name around Scarlett, she’ll get upset. Her taste in men since she’s become mega-famous, however, has been even worse than mine.

“I really thought he’d handle the breakup better,” I confess. His attitude today in the meeting clearly proves he’s more upset about it all than I thought he was. “He kept glaring and scoffing at me the entire meeting. And it was even worse because he kept rattling on about how the characters have no chemistry or passion.”

Scarlett snorts. “Coming from a man who has the personality of a wet blanket. He’s the one who wouldn’t know what passion was if it hit him in the face.”