Free Get More by Nia Stephens Page A

her, completely ignoring Justin. Bree was afraid he would be a bit weird, running into her with another guy so soon after their date. But apparently all he cared about was Thandie Newton.
    â€œFine,” Bree said, wondering how she was going to get out of this one. “But I was only on set for two days. It’s not like I really spent much time with her.”
    â€œI had dinner with her twice,” Justin said, surprising both Bree and Sean and giving Bree exactly the exit she needed. “She’s one of my mom’s clients.”
    â€œReally? God, I’m so jealous,” Sean said. Now he was staring at Justin as if Bree didn’t exist. Bree took the opportunity to wander off in search of another drink while Justin told Sean every single detail of those two dinners. He was still going when Bree came back.
    â€œSean, why don’t you tell Justin about your movie?” Bree suggested, quickly realizing that every man considered himself the most interesting topic in the world. It was true for Justin, and it was true for Sean. Even his beloved Thandie could not compete with his own work. Within minutes, Justin’s eyes had glazed with boredom, and he turned back to Bree.
    â€œIs there some special time when I’m supposed to bring you home?” Justin asked Bree. It was just after two.
    Bree hated to admit it, since she was having a great time—at least until Sean had showed up—but she couldn’t lie. “Well, yes.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œTwelve minutes from now,” she admitted, checking her cell phone.
    â€œIs it possible for you to get there on time?”
    â€œNot unless a wormhole opens up between here and Central Park.”
    â€œWhat?” Justin shot her a confused look.
    â€œNever mind,” Bree giggled, finishing off her glass of wine. “It’s something my friend Kylian says. Sci-fi joke. But my point is, I’m late, no matter what I do now.”
    â€œIs that going to be a problem?” he asked with some degree of concern.
    â€œNot really. But I’d better call for a car now.” Bree slipped into the tiny bathroom to make the call. In the living room, most of the cast were singing along with old Marvin Gaye records, making so much noise Sam would never be able to understand her.
    â€œHe’ll be downstairs in five minutes,” Bree reported, rejoining Justin a few minutes later. “Your brother still hasn’t shown up?”
    Justin shrugged. “He’ll turn up sooner or later. What about you? Any chance I can see you again?”
    â€œSure,” Bree said instantly. This hadn’t been the greatest date by any means, but it was certainly a pretty good one. Justin was pleasant, polite, and he had made sure that she had a good time, even when that meant doing something he didn’t really want to do. Weren’t real relationships about compromise? She could see a future with Justin in it—a future involving lots of compromise, on both sides.
    â€œWould tomorrow night be too soon? I happen to have a couple of tickets to the Knicks game—courtside seats. And like I said, sports are amazing live.”
    â€œSure,” Bree said, a little more slowly this time. Basketball was not exactly her idea of a good time. She let her father drag her to a Knicks game once in a while, but she spent the whole time reciting monologues from Shakespeare to herself. But it wouldn’t kill her to do something different for once. Plus, hadn’t Justin come to the drama party for her sake?
    â€œIt’s a date, then. Call you with details tomorrow?”
    â€œThat’s fine,” said Bree. “I should be getting downstairs . . .”
    Justin took her arm again, which was a little old-fashioned, but also rather cute, and walked her to the stoop. There was nothing old-fashioned about the way he kissed her goodnight, however. Waiting on the building’s steps for Sam, the frosty wind