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“Have you heard the recent Weston Calloway rumor?” she asks, breaking the spell.
“Which one?” I lean closer, inviting her to share the latest scandal.
Several have made their rounds this week, each more outrageous than the last.
“There was a blind item dropped about you and yoursecretgirlfriend.” She studies me intently, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Who is she?”
4
WESTON
With fast fingers, Carlee types into her phone, and the bright screen reveals her features. She sets it on the bar, and my eyes scan over the post. The site has been around for decades, and it’s one my publicist watches. Everyone from celebrities to the general public knows about it.
Blind Item #13
Mr. Playboy Billionaire may be going through a dirty divorce with the gold-digger demon, but he has a secret girlfriend he’s been seeing for months. It doesn’t matter how many “dates” he publicly goes on. His heart belongs to the woman he’s trying to keep hidden.
“That anonymous website is full of unconfirmed gossip,” I say, trying to sound dismissive, but the weight of the accusation lingers in the air.
“There are confirmed truths shared here too,” she argues, her tone unwavering. “You won’t tell me?”
“If I were seeing someone regularly, you’d know, I promise,” I assure.
“I’d love to be the one to reveal her,” she says. “What a comeback that would be for LadyLux.”
I smirk, my mind reeling. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Kinda glad though.” She swirls the wine in her glass. “I have a feeling whoever you end up with won’t appreciate our friendship.”
Her words hit harder than I care to admit.
“If anyone had issues with us, I’d dump them. Lena, my ex, isolated me from my friends for years. Somehow, she wedged herself between me and Easton. I won’t allow anyone to have that sort of control over me again,” I explain, my voice firm. “Our friendship is nonnegotiable.”
Silence stretches between us, filled with the unspoken fears that hover like fog in the early morning.
“What about you? What if your boyfriend told you to stop seeing me? Would you?” I ask.
Carlee’s expression softens. “You’ll have to end our friendship, Wes. It’s nonnegotiable for me as well.”
I love it when she shortens my name like that, as if she’s claiming a piece of me for herself.
“Music to my ears,” I admit as I empty the bottle of wine into our glasses.
The mood shifts, and I need to change the subject before I drown in the depths of our connection. “I’m curious. Why Trever?”
“His profile made me laugh.”
“Laughter is happiness in its rawest form,” I mutter, contemplating the joy that bubbles up when I’m with her.
“Where happiness lives, true love follows,” she continues.
I think about my past relationships. Could that be what’s been missing?
Her brows lift. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” I shake my head. “All is well.”
“You have that look on your face. Is it pity? Because if so?—”