Page 65 of This Changes Everything

Kara turned back to me and placed both elbows on the table. She put her chin in her hands. “Who is he? What does he do? What does he look like?”

I stumbled through my thoughts on how to accurately describe Craig’s and my dysfunctional work relationship, if that’s what one would call it.

“His name is Craig Sinicki. He’s the showrunner for Black Cross, which means he’s the head writer and basically the creative force behind the show. The writers’ room is down the hall from Marie Street. So he comes into the office a lot. He’s fine.”

Kara ran a quick Google search on her phone, then pulled her lips into an O and sucked in a breath. “He’s pretty handsome.” Her eyes widened, and she popped them back up to me.

I looked over at what Kara had pulled up. It was a photo from Craig’s IMDb profile of him and his girlfriend on the red carpet for the season six premiere of Black Cross. His blond hair was swept back, and his piercing blue eyes stared into the camera lens. Somehow, even through a photo, his sleepy bedroom eyes still managed to look like they were undressing me. I looked away.

“Maybe we should just drop this, guys.” Zoë tried to come to my rescue.

“Yeah, clearly Ellie doesn’t want to get into it.” Hannah backed her up.

“It’s okay.” I closed my eyes. “He’s someone I have to work with. That’s it. He sends me emails and texts, and I don’t love them. I don’t like him, and nothing has ever happened between us, nor will it. I don’t fuck around with people I work with. Let’s leave it at that,” I pleaded, then changed the subject. “Where’s that drink we talked about?”

“Did we talk about a drink, or was that just you?” Zoë asked me with a sly smile. With absolute precision timing, a shot girl showed up at our table, and I threw back a shot of tequila.

“I need to have some fun!” I declared. “I want to have some fun right now. I feel like I need to . . .” I waved my arms in circles, trying to pump myself up. “I don’t know, do something.”

“Speaking of fun, you’ll never guess who I heard from last night after we saw Rory.” Kara put her margarita to her lips and didn’t give us time to respond. “Cameron.”

“What?” Hannah gasped. “Are you serious?”

“Who’s Cameron again?” Maddy asked excitedly.

“Cameron is Rory’s brother. Kara and Cameron used to touch each other. Hannah and his other brother, Blair, also used to touch each other,” Zoë stated matter-of-factly.

“Blair and I did not used to touch each other!” Hannah said defiantly, though none of us believed her.

“What did Cameron say?” I grabbed Kara’s arm, bringing her back to her revelation.

“Just that he heard Rory saw us, and he asked how I was doing. I haven’t responded.”

“Why not?!” I demanded.

“Because I haven’t decided how I feel about it.” Kara took a sip of her drink, but I could see her also swallow whatever lump she had in her throat. Cameron had ripped Kara’s heart into shreds and then stomped on it like he was a rhino. I wasn’t shocked that she didn’t know how she felt about him reaching out, but I would be shocked if she didn’t eventually reciprocate.

“Did you love Cameron as a little kid, like Ellie loved Rory?” Maddy asked Kara.

“Oh, I loved Cameron. But not when we were kids. He wasn’t my sexual awakening or anything.” Kara grinned at me.

“Rory wasn’t my sexual awakening! How dare you!” I scoffed.

“Oh, that’s a fun question! Who was it?” Maddy probed. “Wait! I’ll go first. I really liked Max from A Goofy Movie. Like, I really liked Max. Oh! And Chip from Chip ’n Dale. I don’t know. He was so bossy.” She grinned.

“Those are both cartoons!” Hannah laughed.

“Mine was Elijah Wood.” Kara chuckled. “But only because Ellie shoved him down my throat and forced me to watch every one of his movies a hundred times each. Eventually, I buckled. But I don’t regret it. He’s a beautiful owl. I still love him.”

I feigned tipping my hat to Kara and gave a haughty “You’re welcome.”

“That’s insanity, because he’s not even Ellie’s.” Hannah jumped in. “It was Devon Sawa, in the final scene of Casper. I saw you pretend to be Christina Ricci, with your face all squished against the TV and a pillow between your legs.”

“Hannah!” I shrieked, with a horrified laugh. “I was eight! Shut. Up!”

Zoë’s phone dinged with a message, killing the conversation. “Okay, everyone. I’ve got confirmation for tonight.” She read her text. “We’re going to Planet Hollywood. Dress to dance your faces off.”

“Are you joking?” I threw myself back into my chair, needing another shot.