Love Like This, page 9
Isabel’s cheeks were dusty with an adorable rose color. “Really?”
“I’ve seen it more times than I can count. And I know you feel the same way. So here’s my advice. Speak to her from your heart. No script required.”
Isabel ruminated on the idea, finally, blossoming into a grin. “I think I can do that.”
“And put way less pressure on yourself. It’s just another way of telling her that you love her, isn’t it? That’s all you’re doing, and you’re a pro at that.”
“I am. Hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Well, now you have.” Hadley wrapped her arms around herself in a cozy hug. “You two and what you have is everything. Do you realize that? I’m so envious that I could devour this entire tray of brie just to console myself.” And then because the lines of communication were so wide open, she decided to go for it. “Can I confess something to you now?”
“Hell yeah,” Isabel said, sitting taller, brimming with anticipation. “That never happens. What do ya got?”
“The woman I’m supposed to meet with in a half hour? The designer?”
“Yeah, Spencer someone.”
Hadley nodded. “I think I have a crush on her.”
With her hands, Isabel impersonated a bomb dropping. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. For our sweet Hadley Bear to catch the love bug and fall under its spell.”
Hadley shrugged in an effort to minimize the news. “I’m not sure it has any staying power. Just a temporary distraction I can’t seem to shake.” A pause. Hadley lowered her voice, as if there were others who might overhear, which was ridiculous. “Iz, my toes wiggle when she’s around.”
“Really? The toes specifically?”
Hadley nodded solemnly.
“Huh, that’s a new one.”
“What do you think that means?”
“I think it means she’s under your skin. Can I borrow that? My main character is about to meet someone special. Could work to incorporate the toe wiggling and her confession of it to a friend.”
“All yours,” Hadley said, picking up the platter of cheese and crackers.
“You going to ask her out?”
Hadley’s face felt hot. “No. No, that would be outlandish. She’s creative and successful and driven and determined.”
“Those are bad things?”
Hadley’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean it that way. No, of course they’re not bad. They’re wonderful! To be admired, even. It’s just, what would she want with someone like me? I’m just regular.”
Isabel covered her eyes with her hand. “When are you going to stop undervaluing who you are? I’m going to have to murder you with a sledgehammer. We’ve been over this time and time again. Everywhere I take you, people check you out. Men and women, by the way. I’ve seen both. You’re a fucking knockout, a head turner, and everyone knows it but you.”
Hadley opened her mouth to speak, but Isabel silenced her, holding up a hand.
“Not to mention you have the kindest heart of anybody I’ve ever encountered. You’re also funny, carefree, and have a killer eye for color and design. Do you know how jealous I am of your apartment? Don’t answer that. Very jealous. You just refuse to see yourself the way we all do, you lunatic.” She lowered her hand. “Talk now.”
“That was nice,” Hadley said, elevated by the words Isabel had just spoken, trying to hold on to them as a confidence booster. “Even the lunatic part.”
“And true. Don’t forget goddamned true.”
Hadley tilted her head from side to side in consideration. “I’ll work on remembering that. Minus the goddamn.”
“I suggest you work on it with Spencer. Ask her out. Tonight.”
“Absolutely not.” Hadley’s jaw fell open at the suggestion. “Do you even know me? I can’t ask someone out. I just…can’t. No.”
“You’re confident in every other area of your life, and as we’ve seen here tonight, you offer fantastic advice on the subject of love and all things connected. Time to put your money where your mouth is, blondie.”
Hadley nodded, and sucked in air. “Maybe.”
“Aha! A semi-commitment, I can accept,” Isabel said, as she led them down to the first floor. Hadley allowed herself to trail behind her a bit to catch her breath. For whatever reason, talking about her stupid little crush left her more nervous than ever. That didn’t seem fair! Talking about things was supposed to help alleviate them. She placed a hand on her fluttering stomach and checked the clock. Spencer would arrive soon, and they would work. She would not wiggle her toes, or allow herself to acknowledge how attractive Spencer was or how her determination really got Hadley going in…all of the important ways. This was her job, and she would remain professional and on topic. “Well, it’s now time for me to hike my way to the parking garage for real people who don’t actually shop in Beverly Hills.”
Hadley brightened. “I’m so glad you came. And you know what? This is only the beginning of what’s going to be a fantastic life with Taylor. You’re so lucky.”
The comment seemed to land and Isabel grew an inch or two taller. “I think so, too. Bouncing things off you really helped, Had, you superstar of all things mushy. Now go fluff your hair for your meeting. And do what you told me to do. Don’t overthink it.” But before she left, Isabel thrust her arms around Hadley’s neck for an unexpected hug. For a minute, the two of them just stood there as all the wonderful things Isabel had brought into her life since arriving in LA flooded Hadley’s memory: the laughs, the sarcastic wit, and the never-ending friendship. She could safely say that Isabel would be her friend for the rest of her life. She would have it no other way. “Getting out of your hair now,” Isabel said, with a sheepish smile. “Thanks for the Dr. Phil sesh.”
“Anytime,” Hadley called, from the doorway of Silhouette.
Once she was alone, she turned back to the deserted store and did something she never saw coming, she fluffed her hair. “Oh, dear goodness,” she muttered, shaking her head. Who exactly was she becoming?
“Knock, knock,” Spencer called from the entryway twenty minutes later. “You didn’t lock the door,” she said, with a sly look on her face. “I thought this place was always bolted up tight after hours.” She wore blue and green camo capris and a short-sleeve lace-up green top that she paired with army green heels. Stunning. Her dark hair had been styled so that it framed her face, brushing her shoulders, which was new.
“Hi,” Hadley said, realizing she was thrilled to see Spencer, to spend the evening talking to her, or arguing with her, depending on the direction they took. Either was welcome.
“I brought clothes,” she said, glancing over her shoulder toward the thick garment bag. “But I was thinking maybe we could ditch that plan and talk sketches over drinks. Would you be game for that?”
“For drinks? With you?” Hadley was hopeful she hadn’t squeaked the response.
Spencer glanced around the store lightheartedly. “You would be the one I’m asking. Correct.”
“A working-drinks-get-together is what you’re proposing?”
“Kind of.”
Oh, that wasn’t enough. Hadley, in her newly jumbled nervous disposition, needed more details than that. A girl needed clarification when crushing on another girl who then went and asked her to a public place. With alcohol. “Not entirely business?” Hadley asked.
Spencer took a few steps into the store, taking her time deciding what she would say next, apparently. She came with such a confident swagger, which was sexy for days. Whether she was choosing words or just drawing out saying them wasn’t clear. Hadley felt the seconds tick. “I really want to show you some ideas that have popped into my head since we last spoke, and I’d also like to just talk. With you. About anything.” She leveled that stare on Hadley, and damn it all, her toes took over.
“That could be fun,” she heard herself say. “Let me just turn off a few lights and grab my bag. I’ll drop these in my car and meet you out front in a few?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Perfect. It’s a date,” Hadley said, and then covered her mouth at the utterance.
Spencer didn’t seem fazed. In fact, she grinned, nodded, and left.
“Oh, my dear goodness,” she whispered to the empty store. “Here goes nothing.” She walked from Silhouette with a self-assured strut she was only just beginning to feel. Look out, LA. Maybe little Hadley Cooper was about to embrace the saucy side of life.
Chapter Six
The quiet little jazz club Spencer suggested was sultry, dimly lit, and surprisingly not that far from Silhouette. The sign out front blazed red with the club’s name, Notes, in a lazy script. Though outside was nondescript, the inside came with a lot of personality. Small tables dotted the main floor, flanked by an elevated perimeter of additional tables looking down on the main floor. A lantern-like candle sat on each of the white tablecloths, and attentive waitstaff carried trays of drinks. Sophisticated ones.
She and Spencer nestled themselves at a quiet table near the back where they could still hear the music but converse easily enough. The place was about three-quarters full, but night had just fallen. Hadley imagined it’d be overflowing within the next two hours. She very much enjoyed the vibe.
“Where did you hear about this place?” Hadley asked.
“Spencer, where have you been?” a glamorous-looking woman in her fifties asked as she approached their table. Spencer stood and embraced the woman who kissed her cheek. “We thought you’d taken off for Europe or someplace, never to be heard from again.”
“One can only dream,” Spencer said with a wink, and took her seat. “Just been busy is all. You know how that grind can be.” She turned to Hadley. “Hadley Cooper, meet Mabel Van Muir. She’s one of the club’s owners and a very impressive vocalist. Also, a friend of my mother’s.”
“Now you’re just tossin’ flattery. So very nice to meet you, Hadley. What can I send over for you two from the bar?”
Spencer gestured to Hadley to order first. “I’ll take a glass of the house white.”
Mabel nodded.
“Old Fashioned for me,” Spencer said. “Extra cherry tossed in, if you don’t mind.”
“As usual,” Mabel said, with a wink. “I’ll send Ted over with the drinks and a snack on the house. You two enjoy yourself. We got the Miller Trio up next and Fred’s on the keys.”
“Then we arrived at the right time,” Spencer said. “Thanks, Mabel.”
“You must come here a lot,” Hadley said, once they were alone.
“Once in a while. It’s a nice place to escape to. Clear my head, have a drink, and listen to some good music. I can still sketch in the low light, and the music undoes the world for me. Just don’t know much about it is all, so don’t expect me to expound on it.”
“Well, you know that you enjoy it. That’s enough.”
They stared at each other for a weighted moment. Nothing could have made Hadley look away. Spencer, she was beginning to understand, was able to cast a spell. One that she didn’t mind at all.
“You make a valid point. I think I just like chasing the melody. With jazz, you never know where it’s going to go.”
“Reminds me of real life.”
Spencer pointed at her. “I get that.” Another pause. “We should get to work.”
“Yes,” Hadley said, her focus still on Spencer, who had the most expressive eyes and perfect mouth. Her eyebrows had been delicately sculpted, Hadley decided. The results were subtle but effective, as was her hint of rose lipstick. Enough to make a difference but never stealing the show. Spencer Adair was all balanced style and certainty wrapped up together. Two qualities Hadley admired very much. Neither one of them had moved. “We’re not working,” she said, finally, leaning back in her leather club chair.
“We’re not.” Spencer blinked, dipped her head, and smiled. “But I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“And what is this, exactly?” Hadley asked, still on uneven footing and searching for a way to right herself. She could fly by the seat of her pants in a lot of circumstances. This wasn’t one of them.
“You called it a date. I’m just following your lead.”
“I’m not to be relied upon for diagnostics,” Hadley said. “There’s a top half of a groundhog costume on a mannequin in my closet, and I’m not even making that up.”
Spencer nearly spat her water back into the glass. “That is an entirely random statement. And why the display? Fan of the groundhog?”
“A fan of anything celebratory. I head up a theme night each month for my friends and neighbors. You probably think that’s lame, but that’s who you’re dealing with. I need you to know now. Someone who likes frivolous parties, and anything warm and fuzzy. Is that someone you’d want to date?” Hadley blinked, awaiting Spencer’s response.
Spencer sat taller. “Well, this is getting interesting. Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“I don’t know,” Hadley said. It was a truthful answer. “I also tend to believe whatever people tell me. That might make me naïve, but I like to think it’s my attempt to see the good in everyone. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, either. I’m keeping it.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Spencer said, intrigued. “But it’s helpful that you’re laying out all your quirks so early.” She seemed to make a decision. “I can’t stand roller coasters. They’re impractical.”
Hadley nodded, and reciprocated. “I make up songs about my friends’ pets. They don’t always rhyme and I’m fine with that. It’s about the effort you put in.”
“I’m a fantastic soccer player, but can’t stand running. The internal conflict is rough.”
“I’m not so great at Ms. Pac-Man. Or any video game, for that matter.”
Spencer squinted. “I burn Rice-A-Roni. Every. Damn. Time. Even when I have the best of intentions. San Francisco must detest me and has sent its treat to sabotage my kitchen.”
“I adore Barry Manilow in any possible incarnation. I will fight for him.” Hadley placed a hand on her heart. “‘Mandy’ makes me cry. She gave without taking.”
“I don’t cry often, but when I do, it’s because I’m deeply affected. And it’s not pretty either. I ugly cry for the record books.”
“I love to roller-skate even though I’m an adult. Once in a while I’ll do so in the courtyard of my apartment complex. My neighbor, Stephanie, calls me Starlight Express and rolls her eyes in disgust. She hates most things and people.”
“Last year, I lied a little on my taxes about how many business dinners I’d had. I don’t feel bad about that.”
Hadley held up her hand in guilt. “I’m obsessed with chunky peanut butter and Days of Our Lives. Mainly in combination. One isn’t the same without the other.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. I turned down an internship there once and have always regretted it.”
“Me, too.” Hadley leaned forward at the mere mention and placed a hand over her heart to show her abiding love. “About Paris, I’ve always dreamed of going. I’ve traveled close but never made it to the city itself. One day.”
They paused. “Would you look at that?” Spencer said. “Unexpected common ground. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“You don’t want to run screaming yet?” Hadley asked, with a smile. “Even about the Barry Manilow thing?”
Spencer shook her head. “I can deal with Manilow. Does make you extra white, though.”
Hadley nodded solemnly. “I’ve heard that before.”
Their drinks arrived and they enjoyed them while listening to the music. At one point, several songs in, Spencer slid her chair around the round table so she was sitting next to Hadley, which allowed them to watch together. The band transitioned into a mellow slow song, and Spencer slipped her hand into Hadley’s. It was so natural, so discreet, and so wonderful that Hadley couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face and play it cool. Who was she kidding? She would never be that kind of cool. She was Hadley Cooper, and she wore her emotions on her sleeve. And with Spencer this close to her, she could detect the scent that always seemed to follow Spencer into every room, strawberries and cream. Her shampoo? A lotion? She wasn’t sure, but it reminded her of summers growing up and movie nights outside. She loved strawberries and cream. She secretly wondered what Spencer’s lips tasted like. Would strawberries come through in a stolen kiss? And that did it. “Is it warm in here?” she whispered, fanning herself ineffectively with the limp cloth napkin.
Spencer nodded, downed her drink, and leaned into Hadley’s ear. “Want to get out of here?”
Hadley didn’t even hesitate. “Sure.” They walked the streets that surrounded the club, looking in closed-for-the-night store windows, pointing out fascinating trinkets, restaurants they’d like to come back and try, and nodding to the occasional fellow pedestrian. Hadley took a deep inhale and let the warmer summer air fill her lungs. She’d long ditched the white jacket she’d worn over black pants, leaving her in a sleeveless charcoal blouse that let her body breathe.
“You seemed to like the club,” Spencer pointed out, as they continued their circling of the block.
“The guy on the piano!” Hadley marveled. “He has so much talent, and it looks so effortless up there, as if he wasn’t even thinking that hard about what he was doing. That right there is an honest to God gift.” She looked over at Spencer. “Reminds me of you, actually.”
Spencer balked. “In what way am I like Freddy, whiz of the keys?”
“Your talent. It amazes me. The minute I looked you up and saw how many people were talking about your designs, I was impressed. When I saw the line itself? Blown away. That’s when I knew I had to meet you. You’re going to be the next big thing. Only a matter of time.”
They walked in silence for a moment. Spencer looked over at her. “Ever since you called me that first day, I’ve felt…” She shook her head as if searching for the word. “Empowered. That someone like you, with ties to the high end, the best of the best, sees promise in my work. In fact”—she glanced over at Hadley—“I’ve never felt more inspired in my whole life. You, for whatever reason, bring that out in me.”
