things, he doesn’t smell too good.
“Do you want me to call your parents?”
“God, no,” he groans. “Why would I want you to dothat ?”
“Maybe to let them know how you celebrated your birthday? I’m sure they’ll be very proud….”
Gavin pulls the pillow over his head. I smile and go over to one of the nurses to discuss the possibility of his being released. She tells me she’ll see what the doctor says. I thank her and go back out into the waiting room, pulling out my cell phone to see who called me…
…and am thrilled to see the wordsCartwright, Cooper on my cell phone’s screen.
I’m even more thrilled when, a second later, a voice says, “Heather.”
And I look up and find myself staring into the eyes of the man himself.
4
I remember when there was a time That what I needed didn’t cost a dime But now I’m older, what can I say? If it’s not Gap, then there’s no way.
Untitled
Written by Heather Wells
Oh, whatever. So I’m in love with him, and he has shown absolutely zero interest in reciprocating my feelings. So what? A girl can dream, right?
And at least I’m dreaming about someone age-appropriate, since Cooper’s over thirty—a decade older than Barista Boy.
And it’s not like Cooper’s earning minimum wage in some coffee shop. He owns his own business.
And, okay, he won’t actually TELL me what it is he does all day, because he seems to think it’s not fitting for someone of my tender sensibilities to know….
Page 28
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
But that just means he cares, right?
Except that I know he cares. Why else would he have asked me to move in with him (well, into the top-floor apartment of his brownstone, anyway) after Jordan kicked me out (even though Jordan maintains he did no such thing, that I’m the one who left. But, I’m sorry, he was the one who let Tania Trace fall face first into his crotch—in our own apartment, no less. Who wouldn’t interpret something like that as an invitation to leave)?
But Cooper’s made it VASTLY clear that he only cares about me as a friend. Well, insofar as he has never hit on me, anyway.
And, okay, Cooperdid sort of mention once—when I was in a state of severe shock from having been nearly murdered, and was only semiconscious—that he thinks I’m a nice girl.
But am I really supposed to think of that as a good thing? I mean,nice ? Guys never go for nice girls.
They go for girls like Tania Trace, who, in the video for her last single, “Bitch Slap,” was rolling around in an oil slick wearing nothing but leather panties and a wife-beater.
They don’t MAKE leather panties in my size. I’m pretty sure.
Still, there’s always a chance Cooper isn’t the leather panties type. I mean, he’s already proved he’s nothing like the rest of the family by being so nice to me. Maybe there’s hope. Maybe that’s why he’s here at the hospital right now, to tell me that he can’t stand to be without me a second more, and that his car is waiting outside to whisk us to the airport for a Vegas wedding and a Hawaiian honeymoon—
“Hey,” Cooper says, holding up a paper bag. “I figured you hadn’t eaten. I brought you a sandwich from Joe’s.”
Oh. Well, okay. It’s not a Vegas wedding and a Hawaiian honeymoon.
But it’s a sandwich from Joe’s Dairy, my favorite cheese shop! And if you’ve ever tried Joe’s smoked mozzarella, you know it’s just as good as a Hawaiian honeymoon. Possibly better.
“How’d you know I was here?” I ask dazedly, taking the bag.
“Sarah told me,” Cooper says. “I called your office when I heard what happened. It was on the police scanner.”
“Oh.” Of course. Cooper listens to a police scanner while he’s on stakeouts. That or jazz. He’s a nut for Ella Fitzgerald. If Ella wasn’t dead, I’d be jealous.
“Aren’t your clients going to wonder where you are?” I ask. I can’t believe he’s blowing off
“Do you want me to call your parents?”
“God, no,” he groans. “Why would I want you to dothat ?”
“Maybe to let them know how you celebrated your birthday? I’m sure they’ll be very proud….”
Gavin pulls the pillow over his head. I smile and go over to one of the nurses to discuss the possibility of his being released. She tells me she’ll see what the doctor says. I thank her and go back out into the waiting room, pulling out my cell phone to see who called me…
…and am thrilled to see the wordsCartwright, Cooper on my cell phone’s screen.
I’m even more thrilled when, a second later, a voice says, “Heather.”
And I look up and find myself staring into the eyes of the man himself.
4
I remember when there was a time That what I needed didn’t cost a dime But now I’m older, what can I say? If it’s not Gap, then there’s no way.
Untitled
Written by Heather Wells
Oh, whatever. So I’m in love with him, and he has shown absolutely zero interest in reciprocating my feelings. So what? A girl can dream, right?
And at least I’m dreaming about someone age-appropriate, since Cooper’s over thirty—a decade older than Barista Boy.
And it’s not like Cooper’s earning minimum wage in some coffee shop. He owns his own business.
And, okay, he won’t actually TELL me what it is he does all day, because he seems to think it’s not fitting for someone of my tender sensibilities to know….
Page 28
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
But that just means he cares, right?
Except that I know he cares. Why else would he have asked me to move in with him (well, into the top-floor apartment of his brownstone, anyway) after Jordan kicked me out (even though Jordan maintains he did no such thing, that I’m the one who left. But, I’m sorry, he was the one who let Tania Trace fall face first into his crotch—in our own apartment, no less. Who wouldn’t interpret something like that as an invitation to leave)?
But Cooper’s made it VASTLY clear that he only cares about me as a friend. Well, insofar as he has never hit on me, anyway.
And, okay, Cooperdid sort of mention once—when I was in a state of severe shock from having been nearly murdered, and was only semiconscious—that he thinks I’m a nice girl.
But am I really supposed to think of that as a good thing? I mean,nice ? Guys never go for nice girls.
They go for girls like Tania Trace, who, in the video for her last single, “Bitch Slap,” was rolling around in an oil slick wearing nothing but leather panties and a wife-beater.
They don’t MAKE leather panties in my size. I’m pretty sure.
Still, there’s always a chance Cooper isn’t the leather panties type. I mean, he’s already proved he’s nothing like the rest of the family by being so nice to me. Maybe there’s hope. Maybe that’s why he’s here at the hospital right now, to tell me that he can’t stand to be without me a second more, and that his car is waiting outside to whisk us to the airport for a Vegas wedding and a Hawaiian honeymoon—
“Hey,” Cooper says, holding up a paper bag. “I figured you hadn’t eaten. I brought you a sandwich from Joe’s.”
Oh. Well, okay. It’s not a Vegas wedding and a Hawaiian honeymoon.
But it’s a sandwich from Joe’s Dairy, my favorite cheese shop! And if you’ve ever tried Joe’s smoked mozzarella, you know it’s just as good as a Hawaiian honeymoon. Possibly better.
“How’d you know I was here?” I ask dazedly, taking the bag.
“Sarah told me,” Cooper says. “I called your office when I heard what happened. It was on the police scanner.”
“Oh.” Of course. Cooper listens to a police scanner while he’s on stakeouts. That or jazz. He’s a nut for Ella Fitzgerald. If Ella wasn’t dead, I’d be jealous.
“Aren’t your clients going to wonder where you are?” I ask. I can’t believe he’s blowing off
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