“We
should go out tonight,” Spencer said, dropping onto a chaise on the front
porch, facing the ocean view.
Sullivan
occupied the mate of the chaise, his fingers flying over the keyboard of his
laptop perched in his lap. He absently pushed up his glasses and then looked at
his twin. “Huh? Did you say something?”
“You
need to hydrate, man!” Spencer said, mock dramatically, handing Sullivan a beer
then taking a pull of his own. “Drink!”
Sullivan
accepted the proffered bottle, took a sip and then grimaced. “Good god, is this
that low carb beer you were talking about?”
Spencer
nodded. “Just picked it up from Trader Joe’s.”
“Uh
huh.”
“It’s
not too bad,” Spencer said thoughtfully, taking another drink.
“It’s
not too good, either,” Sullivan retorted. “I think I’d rather drink a good beer
and just have less of them. Do we have any of that Czech beer left?”
Spencer
shook his head no. “No, but I know where we can get some.”
“Where?”
Sullivan asked warily.
“Let’s
go out,” Spencer volunteered. “We could go to Luxe, get some drinks, do some
dancing, check out some pretty girls… drink good Czech beer…”
Sullivan
shook his head without hesitation. “I have to work.”
“No,
you don’t,” Spencer countered. “There’s this thing called ‘after work’, and
there’s also this thing called ‘fun’. You might have heard of it. You used to
know what that was.”
“I’m
just not feeling the bar scene, bro,” Sullivan said.
“You
need to get back out there,” Spencer said, taking another pull from his bottle.
“Seriously.”
“You
just want a wingman around while you hit on girls,” Sullivan said, thinking to
back to past nightclub experiences with his more outgoing, more flirtatious
twin.
Sullivan
was the steady, shy one – he left all the nightclub girls and one night stands
to his brother.
There
was a reason he’d met Jewel in line at a bank, not in line at some overdressed
nightclub.
“No.
Well, yes, but that’s not the only reason,” Spencer said. “You can’t just hide
here forever. You need to get back out there, get over the heartache or
whatever you claim it is that you’re still nursing for that crap ex girlfriend
of yours.
“Fiancee.”
“Whatever.
You need to get over the ‘pain’, dude.”
Sullivan
glared at his brother. “You think I’m making it up?”
“I
think it’s been long enough, and she’s not worth the emotional time you’re
spending on her. You guys are over, have been for a while now, and you need to
get over it,” Spencer said, his tone softening. “Seriously, man. She was never
worth it, and you deserve better.”
“And
you think I’m going to find this ‘better’ at Luxe?” Sullivan asked skeptically.
“Hell no,” Spencer laughed. “But I think you can have some fun at Luxe until you do.”
Spencer
gave him a wide grin, and Sullivan couldn’t help but grin back at his brother.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said, clinking bottles with his twin and taking a
long drink. “But go. Have fun. I promise I’ll go out with you another night.
Just not… tonight.”
Spencer
sighed heavily, staring out at the Pacific, listening to the sound of clicking
keys on the laptop beside him and the crying of seagulls above him. Luxe was
only fun when you had someone to hang out with, he thought dejectedly.
Looks
like it would be another night of hanging out in the new house, Spencer
thought. Maybe he would even read a few pages of a book…
Books
made him think of Lucy, and he wondered how her new ‘food plan’ was
progressing. He knew she had it in her – she just needed a cheerleader, and
that cheerleader was him.
He
had every confidence that she could do this.
She
was a great girl – she just needed that little push, and he was going to give
it to her.
**
“No
offense, Luce, but this isn’t… great,” Brandt said, trying to be gentle.
“No,
it’s not great. In fact, it’s crap,” Lucy lamented, picking up her half eaten dinner
plate and taking it to the sink to rinse. “No butter, no oil, no salt… what
kind of person lives this way?!”
Brandt
laughed. “Healthier ones than us, apparently,” he said, bringing his own plate
over. “C’mon, let’s sit outside and talk about something other than food.”
They
settled outside, Lucy pulling a light cardigan around herself against the growing
chill in the air. “I’m sorry,” she said after they were both settled and silent
for a moment.
Brandt
turned to her. “What on earth for?”
“For
dominating every conversation lately with talk of calories and food and diets
and exercise and my trainer. I promise, I’ll return to sanity and normal, grown
up conversation as soon as I get this damn plan stuck in my head and it becomes
a ‘lifestyle’ instead of a ‘diet’, as Spencer says. For right now, it’s just
sort of at the forefront of everything in my entire existence. And I know
that’s boring – I’m sorry.”
Brandt
reached over and squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to apologize. This is
important stuff. But so is discussing last week’s episode of Project Runway…”
Lucy
settled back and smiled, gazing at the crashing waves as she and Brandt rambled
about reality television, the return of skinny jeans, the current fascination
with all things Hunger Games and
peace in the Middle East.
For
the millionth time, she sent up a prayer of thanks and appreciation to any and
all available gods for giving her such a great best friend; one that had gotten
her through so much, and still gave her support, laughter and a roof over her
head every day.
“Sooo…”
she said with a grin. “Tell me about Mr. Whole Foods. What happened?”
Brandt’s
face lit up. “His name is Josh, and he’s crazy cute. He works at the Aquarium –
how cute is that? – and he’s single. We went to dinner, and we’re going to get
together this weekend for… well, who knows what, but who cares. He’s really
great. I don’t know much about him, but I know he’s great. He looks great, if
nothing else.”
“I’m
so glad,” Lucy enthused. “You need a great one after the last one.”
Brandt
huffed. “Don’t remind me.”
They
sat in companionable silence for a while before Brandt spoke again. “Luce?”
“Yeah,”
she asked, her eyes on the night sky.
“I’m
hungry.”
“Oh
god, me too,” she said, jumping from her chair. “Let’s go find some real food!”
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