Free Heart of Glass by Zoey Dean Page A

to sound as incredulous as possible.
    Ben shrugged. “Maybe you ought to ask her.” Cammie took another sip of her coconut smoothie.
    She felt some coat the skin above her plump upper lip and licked it off slowly, knowing that he was watching. “It’s not like she and I are the best of friends, Ben.” He shrugged again. “You’re doing community service with her. Which, incidentally, is hilarious. Don’t you talk?” “Two ex-girlfriends comparing notes. I can’t think of anything more banal. Except maybe some Penny Marshall movie I’d never see.” “I wouldn’t put Anna in the ‘ex’ column. I’d put her in the ‘we’re taking a breather’ column.” Cammie playfully nudged the toe of her boot into his calf. “Get over it, Ben. I doubt very much that she’s tooling around with Tattoo Guy and telling him that she’s taking a ‘breather’ from you.” She watched that zinger cause a flicker of doubt to cross Ben’s face.
    “She’s pissed at me,” he admitted. “She pisses off easily. Where’s the love?”
    He swung his legs off the chair. “She’ll either get over it or not. I’m not dwelling on it, if that’s what you mean.” “How long are you planning to wait?” Cammie looked at him closely.
    “Till I get sick of waiting, I guess.”
    “That’s almost frighteningly mature,” Cammie mused. “Is that what happens after a year at Princeton? Because if it is, I’m
never
going to college.” He laughed; Cammie could always make him laugh. That was what kept them together when they were a couple, back when he was a senior and she was a junior. Well, that and physical chemistry so hot it made her feel dizzy.
    “Well, I just wanted to say that if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here,” Cammie continued intimately. “Adam’s in Michigan, so I’ve got the time. And even if you tie me up, tie me down, and kiss me all over, I’m not fooling around with you.” Ben cracked up. “Liar.” “You know, the bizarre thing is . . . I really do love Adam. But what can I tell you, Ben? I’ll always have a weakness for you. So don’t tempt me, and I’ll try not to tempt you. Deal?” He nodded, regarding her with something that seemed to approach respect. “Deal.” “If I break my promise, the smoothie gods will strike me down with a bolt of liquid lightning.” “Then I’d say you’re the one who’s almost frighteningly mature,” Ben observed. “Hanging out with Adam did that for you, huh?” “He’s a great guy. He’s deep and kind and . . .” She shrugged. “Probably way too good for me.” “Ah, Cammie. There is no one else quite like you.” Ben leaned forward in his lawn chair and enveloped her in a quick hug.
    She let it go at that. She wasn’t about to let on that her mind wasn’t nearly as faithful as her body.

Barbie-Doll Curves
    S am took her usual table at the Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel and waited for the latest petite and dimwitted waitress to wait on her.
    Sam had been coming to the Beverly Hills Hotel since she was a little kid, first with her father, and then—by the time she was in middle school—with her friends. Even as middle-schoolers, Sam and her buds didn’t have to wait for Mommy or Daddy to drive them. Most were even spared the ignominious humiliation of trailing some nanny or au pair. They simply called the family chauffeur and got dropped off. Then, when they were ready to come home, they’d press speed dial and the driver would be at the hotel there within thirty minutes.
    It was a nice tradition for the junior division of Hollywood showbiz royalty.
    “Hey, there. Care to see the menu?” asked a waitress with long, wavy chestnut hair, the curves of a Barbie doll, and a sweet Southern accent. She was naturally gorgeous. Sam
hated
that in a waitress.
    “I haven’t looked at a menu in here since I was six.” Sam wore oversize round black Chanel sunglasses along with her Eve of Destruction jeans and her latest acquisitions