Unsung: Friends, Lovers, or Nothing, #3

Chapter 1: Me, Myself & I

It’s back. The same damn recurring nightmare I had in Atlanta had found me, all nice and cozy, in my bed in Los Angeles. I hope it doesn’t keep up.

Every other night, the same weird sequence keeps playing in my head. There’s an alley. A dark one, of course. There’s the sound of a blues guitar coming from inside of a building. I can’t make out the tune. I’m running but I’m not going anywhere as if I’m on a treadmill or that stupid track thingy at the airport. A ghostly voice tells me to stop running. I run faster. Then I wake up.

This is so dumb!

I rolled over and looked at my clock. My body was screaming that it was not time for me to get up; the notion confirmed by the blue digital numbers taunting me.

2:00 am.

I closed my tired eyes and prayed for sleep. When it didn’t come right away, I listened to the soothing jazz composition playing from my iPod. Usually Coltrane helps me sleep through anything. Not tonight. Not this week.

Coltrane and all his other friends have failed me repeatedly. No matter what I do, my mind isn’t going to let me sleep. Maybe I should take up meditation or yoga.

Maybe you shouldn’t work so hard.

My mother’s nagging voice popped into my head. I groaned out loud. Three thousand miles away and Peaches can still get into my head.

I sat up in my bed and stared into the vast darkness of what used to be one of the three guest bedrooms in Aiden’s mansion. It has been over six months and I still can’t fully wrap my head around the fact that we are living together again. Sometimes I can’t believe that he’s even speaking to me again.

No matter what my mother says, moving to LA was a good decision, even if moving here meant that I had to live with Aiden. We haven’t done that in years. Living together as roommates had not exactly ended well. It’s how he ended up in Los Angeles in the first place. Now I’m here and it’s like we’ve teleported backwards ten years.

I pulled the thick Egyptian cotton sheets up to my neck and sighed in the darkness. Our tenure as roommates may not have ended well, but it sure was fun while it lasted.  When Aiden was starting out in the music business, living with him was the most fun I’ve ever had. On the days we both were too exhausted to function, we’d watch movies or cartoons together and eat bowls of cereal until we passed out. We talked about everything. We became best friends in just a few months.

Back then, I was actually designing clothes, not styling socialites and celebrities. Even though my clients weren’t famous, I had a successful business. Plus I was helping Aiden get a record deal. We used to travel all over the state, playing at any venue that would have him.

Then he got a record deal and everything changed.

We’d been working our butts off for that deal. Aiden played at any venue that would have him. We were on the road for weeks at a time. He was paying his dues. When the record deal came, the world believed he was an overnight success. Puh-leeze! I wish he was an overnight success!

The record deal put him in front of millions. That’s how fast his career skyrocketed. One day he was playing at dive bars in Georgia; the next, he was at sitting at the top of the Billboard charts and touring across the country. Before I knew it, I was his manager, his publicist, his stylist, and his personal assistant. It became too much too fast.

Parties, shows, talk shows, and more parties. The money, fame, and groupies went straight to his head. Once he became famous, he allowed our friendship to fade into the background.

At first, I didn’t see it happening. I was too busy making sure his music was right, his clothes were right, he arrived at the venue on time...all of that. I wanted to do everything I could to make sure that my best friend was successful. I wanted to see Aiden live his dream. Even though he knew that, Aiden still began to treat me like I was just another person on his payroll. I put up with it for far too long until one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I quit, and he moved to Los Angeles.

I thought our friendship would never recover.

I agonized over the pain he caused me when he moved. His last words to me were ‘Fuck you, Sunny!’ as he slammed our apartment door. I was crushed.

There was a brief moment when I was head over heels in love with Aiden. Either he couldn’t decipher my signals or simply ignored them because he never returned the same feelings. I was just his best friend.

I had never been friend-zoned by a guy before. I was at loss as to what I could do. In the end, I did absolutely nothing. I pushed those feelings for Aiden so far into the corner of my heart I forgot about them. Xavier Duchamp, my basketball playing French boyfriend made it easy to forget all about those feelings.

I fell in love with my New York Knick. Xavier was kind and considerate and suave. He was the anti-Aiden. I think that’s what attracted me to him in the first place. Despite how I felt about Xavier, I couldn’t get past the hole in my heart when Aiden slammed the door on our friendship.

Working with Aiden helped my career more than my degree from Parsons the New School for Design. Fashion industry people started to recognize the name on the resumes I sent all over the country. I didn’t want to live in Atlanta, in the apartment that Aiden had bought just for us. I had to get out. I was offered a job at Phat Fashions and I took it. I moved to New York with my boyfriend and escaped the empty memories of my best friend. It didn’t take long for me to create a new life for myself in New York City...a life that did not involve Aiden or anyone who knew Aiden.

Xavier was thrilled that we no longer had to carry on a long-distance relationship. So happy in fact, that he proposed only three months after I moved in. I said yes, and thus began my life as a basketball wife in the NBA.

I did not like being the fiancée of an NBA player. I was not content sitting with the players’ wives and girlfriends listening to them talk about each other, their new cars, or their new homes in the Hamptons. I felt like I was in the movie Mean Girls every day that I was there.

I was miserable.

Poor Xavier. He didn’t understand why I was so miserable. I had access to more money than I could ever spend. I had a great Park Avenue apartment and lots of friends. But I didn’t have lots of friends. I had one friend and too many acquaintances. My friends were in Los Angeles with Aiden.

After I quit working for Aiden, he hired his little sister, Delilah, to take my place. She moved to LA along with his manager, Roxy, and publicist, Tracy. So did Erica, the one girl who was supposed to have my back, the one who grew up with me and called me her sister.

All I had was work, Xavier, and the Queen of basketball wives, Daniela Adriani-Tate, to help fill the void that my friends left. As much as I loved Xavier, he never filled the hole in my heart that Aiden had created when he ended our friendship. There was no way he could. He never understood the depth of my relationship with Aiden.

The first six months I was in New York, Aiden was on tour. Erica called me every day, begging me to come back. I wanted to be on tour instead of in a workroom getting yelled at by Kimora Lee Simmons’s assistants and head designers. However, there was no way in hell I would ever work for Aiden again. We weren’t even speaking!

Aiden treated me like shit, even though we both were fully aware that I was solely responsible for his success. It was because of my family that Aiden even had a career. Uncle Joey, Aunt Kat, Erica, and Roxy suddenly forgot that I had everything to do with his career. I was alone with my pain. I was falling apart and Aiden was winning Grammys.

My father was the only one who recognized how miserable I was. He convinced me to be the bigger person and fix things with Aiden. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. He needed me as much as I needed him. In fact, he apologized to me. The hole in my heart healed. I had my friend back.

All was right in my world again until Xavier cheated on me.

Xavier.

Not the person I needed to be thinking about at two in the morning. I turned off the jazz that wasn’t working and listened to the baby monitor. There’s no real reason to still be listening to my daughter sleeping on a baby monitor. We’re not in mid-town Atlanta anymore. We’re safe and secure in Aiden’s gated Hollywood mansion. Even the Manson family couldn’t get past Aiden’s security.

My bare feet padded down the hallway on the smooth hardwood floors until I reached my little girl’s fantasy room. More Disney princesses like her room in Atlanta, but this time she had a custom-made castle for a bed. Her father spoils her more than I ever did.

I sat down on the plush pale pink carpet next to my child’s castle. Her tiny night light cast a light blue hue across her peaceful face. Summer looks just like her father when she sleeps.

I heard the rocking chair in her room creak. I almost jumped out of my skin. Visions of the Lindbergh kidnapping and Jon Benet Ramsey crept into my mind. I turned at the sound and let out an angry breath. Aiden was laughing quietly in the chair.

What is wrong with you? I hissed. What are you doing in here? You scared me to death!

I just got home and I wanted to check on her. Why are you up?

Couldn’t sleep, I shrugged. What do you mean you just got home? It’s two in the morning!

We were in the studio. We just got finished.

I shook my head and turned back to my daughter. Aiden spends the majority of his time in the studio when he’s not performing. I’m glad to see that he’s giving Erica’s album the same attention and creativity that he gives his own projects. Even though she’s been approached by labels and bands who want her she’s been loyal to him. She deserves a full effort from him and Joey.

Aiden looked down at Summer, and the corners of his mouth twitched. It’s been six months, and he still looks at her with endearing wonderment as if he just cannot believe that he made her. I know the feeling. I looked at her like that for at least three months after she was born.

Sometimes I can’t believe that she’s mine, he whispered. Most of the time, I can’t believe I didn’t know. I feel so stupid. I should have known that she was mine as soon as I found out that you were pregnant.

Hey, I said softly. Don’t beat yourself up. I should have told you. I shouldn’t have let you believe that Xavier was her father. That was my mistake.

Damn right, that was your mistake! I trusted that you wouldn’t lie to me ever, especially over something so huge, but you did. Now I’ll always have to wonder about what else you’ve lied to me about.

I wasn’t expecting him to be angry at two in the morning. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to still be angry after six months. We spent days in the Caribbean talking about why I waited two years to tell him. I thought we left all the anger and animosity on the beach six months ago.

What’s done is done. He knows now. His family knows. I’ve confessed my secret to everyone in my family. What’s the point of holding a grudge? I’ve gotten over most of the crap that he’s done to me. He should do the same.

We’ve talked about this, Aiden. I’ve apologized a million times. What else do you want from me?

Aiden walked around the bed and stopped about two feet away from me. Even though it was dark in Summer’s room, I saw the intensity in his eyes and stepped back a few feet.

I just want you to tell me the truth, he whispered. The whole truth, about New Orleans and about how you really feel about me. I want you to be honest.

I sighed and started to walk past him. I’m not having this conversation again. There is nothing else to tell.

Aiden followed me into the hallway and pulled my arm. I stopped walking and turned around.

What?

Why are you here then? he asked. Why did you decide to move out here? You had a perfectly good life in Atlanta. If Xavier was her father, would you have gone back to New York?

No, I answered truthfully. I would have stayed in Atlanta. I don’t want to be with Xavier.

I knew it. He released my arm. Think about what you just said, Sunny. You wouldn’t have moved to New York to be with Xavier if he was Summer’s dad, but you moved to LA because I’m her dad. That means everything you said on the beach was a lie. You want to be with me. Admit it.

I don’t want to be with anyone, I argued. We moved out here so you could help raise your daughter. My feelings haven’t changed, Aiden. We’re friends. That’s all we can be.

That’s not true. You’ve never even given us a chance. All we’ve ever done is have sex. You don’t know what it’s like to be my girlfriend. You should give it a shot.

That’s enough, I hissed. I gave you a chance, Aiden. You blew it. New Orleans was a lifetime ago. You have a beautiful daughter because I did something stupid. That’s all I can give you.

I brushed past him and practically ran down the hall to my room. It’s been almost three years since I broke off my engagement. Only three short years! I was ready to marry Xavier, to spend the rest of my life with him...to bear his name and children. I was ready to be his wife.

When I returned home from a business trip, all I wanted was to cuddle in my man’s arms and eat slice after slice of gooey New York pizza. The day that I caught Xavier cheating, the universe had other plans. Tired and dragging my suitcase, I entered our apartment and literally walked right into my worst nightmare.

Xavier, half-naked with his workout shorts around his ankles, was banging the hell out of a girl who I thought was my friend. Trina had been to my apartment. She’d been to St. Tropez with me and a few other basketball wives. I had been warned not to trust any of the NBA dancers. Obviously, I’m the type of person who learns my lessons the hard way, because there she was, lying on our custom-made pool table, getting what I thought was mine.

I walked out because I had no other choice. I dealt with his crazy basketball schedule. I dealt with the fake ass NBA wives. I made many compromises to be with him because I loved him. I was not going to deal with that level of disrespect and disloyalty. I don’t care that cheating is normal for athletes. It wasn’t normal in my relationship, and I will never tolerate it.

I escaped to Atlanta. Instead of staying with my parents, I went back to the apartment I’d shared with Aiden. I don’t know if Fate thought it was funny or Destiny intervened, because Aiden was still in Atlanta, in our apartment recovering from his bus crash injuries.

Our high-rise apartment that overlooked the city was safe. I was safe with Aiden and Delilah around me twenty-four seven. I didn’t have to talk about what happened with Xavier. They allowed me to grieve instead of talk. Aiden understood that Xavier hadn’t just broken my heart; he killed it. Considering Aiden was having his own marital problems, I should have been cautious. Except, there was no escaping the raw sexual energy that Aiden wears like cologne. I did not even try.

We spent hours alone, comforting each other...trying to make sense of what happened to our perfect relationships. We had sex. Mind blowing, comforting, I-won’t-tell-if-you-don’t-tell sex. I’ll take the blame for that. I was feeling vulnerable. Being around a man who made no attempt to hide the fact that he thought I was beautiful and sexy felt so damn good. Aiden made me feel wanted. That was all I wanted to feel after finding out that my fiancé was cheating on me.

The situation became very messy when we went to New Orleans to rebuild houses for Hurricane Katrina victims. I completely led him on. For two months, I slept with Aiden, sat in the front row of his shows and pretended that he wasn’t married. He wanted more. He wanted every day to be like New Orleans. I just wanted to go back to Atlanta and restart my business. I wanted to take a break from men. Then I missed my period. Then a second month went by without a visit from Aunt Flow.

The pink plus sign on a pee stick changed everything. Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t let my heart linger on my failed relationship with Xavier. I didn’t even consider trying to make something work with Aiden. I had to heal and do it quickly. I was going to be a mother. God had blessed me with the most important job in the world. I wasn’t going to let my past dictate my and my daughter’s future.

Even if I did want to be with Aiden, on some miniscule level, I wouldn’t. I love him as my best friend. I offered him a chance and he ignored it. After Summer was born, I often thought about telling him about her. I considered giving him another chance. Then he slept with my closest friend for the second time. He proved to me that he’s not mature enough to be in an adult relationship. He did that on his own, without any help from me.

I’m here because my child deserves to have what I have. That’s a full-time father who adores her. If I cave, if I do what Aiden wants, what is going to happen to their relationship when it doesn’t work out? Which is practically inevitable, considering I’m the only one in this house who has been in a healthy relationship for more than a year. Summer is the only reason we are in this situation. I will do anything to ensure that Aiden and I remain on good terms. That means I will not be dating her father.

Much to my mother’s chagrin, I really like California. The sun is good for my soul, plus I’m surrounded by my other friends. This is the good life. I wake up feeling like my life isn’t spinning like an out of control top.

I’m happy here.

Even so, I have this gnawing fear that I will succumb to Aiden’s methods of seduction. He just doesn’t give up. Every day I catch his covert smile and sneaky winks whenever we’re in the same room.

Two years is a long time to go without any contact with a real male penis. Honestly, Aiden is hot! There isn’t a woman alive that can honestly say that she wouldn’t let all six feet, four inches of muscle, blond hair, and green eyes into her bed if the opportunity presented itself.

The opportunity has presented itself damn near every night for the past six months. Being in such close quarters, where every breath I take is drenched in his heady alpha-male musk, does not make resisting him very easy. I’ve seen bunnies with more sexual control than Aiden and I have when we’re alone in the same room.

While I was on my rescue mission on Guana Island to save Aiden from himself, he laid all his cards out on the table. He let me know that he wasn’t going to just let me be.

I love you, Sunny. One day you’re going to believe me.

I believe that he thinks that he’s in love with me but I’m not in the same place. We aren’t in New Orleans anymore. I was heartbroken and fresh out of a relationship. He was there with a comforting gaze and encouraging words. His arms felt safe. His eyes told me I was beautiful. His mouth told me that Xavier was a fool for letting me go. I needed that. I needed him, and he fulfilled my needs while we were there.

Now, if only he would stop telling me that he loves me!

Coming from Aiden, those words don’t ring true. Aiden’s definition of love isn’t the same as every other person’s on the planet. I don’t believe he even knows how to love or if he even wants to learn. Whether he sees it or not, I’m not the woman who can teach him.

What Xavier did to me still hurts. I’ve tried to push those feelings out of my head. It’s been hard to cross the bridge from I Love Him to I’m Over Him. I am trying though. Sometimes I feel that I’m stuck right in the middle. A gentle nudge in either direction will make all the difference.

My girlfriends are always telling me that I need to start dating again because I’m getting bitter. I beg to differ. When I look in the mirror, I see a strong, confidant, passionate woman with hopes, dreams, and an ass that won’t quit. I still believe that I’m a catch.

I deserve more than what this life’s version of love has given me. Aiden, Gavin, Xavier...Tony. They are perfect examples of what not to do. Better yet, who not to do. Therefore, I’m not getting bitter. I’m getting better.

After the Xavier situation, I used that heartbreak as fuel to an already burning fire. I became a better stylist, a better daughter, and a better friend. No matter what my friends and my mother believe, I haven’t sworn off men.

I want a man, but I’m not going to chase a man. My daddy didn’t raise me like that. I’m moving forward. My past relationships have made me more cautious. I’ve learned that I may be a fashion super hero, performing miraculous feats with scissors and double-sided tape. I’m a very in your face, tell it like it is type of woman, but my heart is just as fragile as any other woman’s. It is my job to protect my heart. That’s all I’m doing.

Still, something has got to give. My two-year-old lust is rearing its ugly head and threatening my self-control. My vibrator is overworked and pissed off.

During the day, I’m fine. I work. I hang out with my friends like everything is perfect, and that I’m not sexually frustrated. It’s when the moon is bright in the sky and the stars are reflecting off the shimmering water in Aiden’s pool that I catch myself wondering naughty things. Like how many women has he had sex with in that pool or in the Jacuzzi? Does he kiss them like he kissed me? Does he gaze into their eyes as his large hands roamed their bodies? Will I ever let him do that to me again?

I need to get out of this house. I need to meet hot sexy guys. I need some friends with benefits!

Soon!

Chapter 2: Lovely Day

H ey girl, what you doin’?

Delilah, Aiden’s little sister and personal assistant, poked her head into my room later that afternoon. Delilah can only be described as part Barbie, part Betsy Johnson, and part Chihuahua. She’s always happy and excited and talks a mile a minute. Her constant cheerfulness is enough to make the toughest person smile. Sometimes I call her Bubbles because she reminds of a Powerpuff Girl. She’s a doll.

I was lying on my bed staring at the pictures of my dream studio space. I can’t work out of Aiden’s house like I worked out of my townhouse back home. First of all, his house is too far to be convenient for any client to come here. Aiden is big time now!

The mansion, high in the Hollywood Hills is proof; along with the apartment in Atlanta, the house in the Hamptons, and the condo on the beach in Belize. My best friend is a guitar playing, chart topping sensation. I thought his career peaked years ago but he just keeps climbing higher.

Second, his security team is too paranoid to let my clients through easily, no matter how famous they are. No woman wants to be ID’d and patted down by two different meat-headed, oversized security guards just to try on clothes.

Nothing, I answered Delilah. Just going over the specs for the studio we saw last week.

Do you still want me to go with you today? Aiden is picking up Mom and Sara from the airport. He has Summer with him and they’ll be out for the rest of the day. That means I’m free.

I grimaced a little. The last time Aiden’s older sister and mother were here, he told them about Summer. Even though they already knew Summer, finding out that she was Aiden’s daughter was the greatest news he could give them. They cried every time they saw him with her. I can’t take another week of that.

All of the excitement over Aiden’s announcement was a little too much for me. I don’t like being the center of attention. I didn’t like answering questions or explaining why I didn’t say anything about her sooner. It was extremely uncomfortable.

You don’t want to spend the day with your family?

I’ll see them later.

I nodded, still staring at my laptop screen.

Isn’t Aiden supposed to working with Erica today? I asked Delilah. I hadn’t heard her loud mouth.

Yeah, she’s on his schedule. She’s already out in the studio with Mike and Joey. I don’t think she knows that Aiden isn’t coming back, Delilah answered. She doesn’t know you’re planning on going over to the studio today. Do you want me to tell her?

No!

I took Erica with me the first time I went to see the studio space. She practically drooled all over Clay, the gorgeous and way too young for her leasing agent, as he showed us around the space. He was sexy, if you’re into movie star attractiveness. However, the space was sexier.

I fell in love from the moment I set foot on the polished concrete floors. The space is definitely me! It has enough space for a workroom that’s big enough to sew, design, and do fittings. There is even enough space for all of my clothes! No more lugging things from temperature-controlled storage units! It’s perfect!

Delilah laughed at my emphatic answer. She heard all about Clay and Erica. If anything, Delilah understands business when it’s time to do business. Erica is a distraction that we don’t need today.

I shut the laptop and slid off the bed. Let’s go before she starts asking questions.

Technically, I can’t afford to lease this place. It’s almost a grand more than I budgeted for. I’m hoping that Clay will be open to my lower offer. His father owns the building. The Daniels family doesn’t appear to be strapped for cash.

I’m not Rachel Zoe yet. Business was slow in Atlanta but it’s picking up. I’m sure that three years from now, I’ll be able to buy the building if I want to, but not today. If Clay says no, I’ll be heartbroken. However, Cosmic Studios isn’t the only studio space in LA for lease.

I’ll find something because I have to get away from Aiden and all his newfound joy of being a father. It’s not like I live in a perpetual state of unhappiness but being around too many happy people at one time creeps me out. I get a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. My fight or flight reflex kicks in.

I’m working on it. It’s on my To-Do List.

So, how much is this place again? Delilah asked. She’s so nosy. She probably already knows the answer. Judging by the tense look on her face as we drove towards the art district, she knows I can’t afford it.

It’s twenty-four hundred, I answered.

Delilah’s eyes widened. A month? Are you serious? You couldn’t find anything cheaper?

I’m going to offer two grand and see what Clay says, I said. Or I might have to get a smaller space. I don’t know yet.

Aiden said he’d buy you a place, Delilah reminded me of her brother’s generous offer, the offer I turned down before he could fully get the words out.

Technically, he’s already paying for it, I confessed. I’m using some of the money he gave me a few years ago.

Are you talking about that hundred grand Aiden gave you five years ago? Wasn’t that money for you to start your clothing line? Delilah screeched. You haven’t used it yet? What are you waiting for?

"I used most of it to start S.T.Y.L.E.Z by Sunny. You remember what happened with that, don’t you?"

Delilah stared blankly at me. What are you talking about?

Ramey, I reminded her. Ramey happened. She tried to destroy me, remember?

Oh yeah, Delilah replied. She’s such a bitch.

There’s no love lost between Delilah and Aiden’s ex-wife. They may hate each other as much as Ramey and I hate each other. I haven’t seen Ramey in person since her and Aiden’s divorce was finalized. I avoid that skank like the cancer that she is.

People think that I hate Ramey because of what she did to Aiden. People are wrong. Aiden got just what he deserved. No one told him to marry that tramp while he was drunk in Vegas. Ramey Hall only had three things going for her; all which appealed to Aiden’s shallow character. She was gorgeous, famous, and gave good head. That was all he needed until he sobered up. When his head was clear, he realized that he wanted more than that from the woman to whom he gave his last name. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when she filed for divorce and tried to take more than half of everything he owned.

I do not hate Ramey for what she did to Aiden. I hate Ramey for what she did to me. I kept my nose out of Aiden’s mistake of a marriage as much as possible. She had no reason to hate me. I was engaged. I was not interested in her husband. There were a million other women she should have been worried about.

Ramey was a supermodel and I was launching my first clothing line. We could have worked well together. Instead, she used every resource in her power to dirty my name in the industry. The media took the bait. Anytime there was a camera or microphone around she accused me of breaking up her marriage. She completely trashed me.

She even went as far as to bash my clothes, saying that I stole my ideas from other designers. She told people that she hated everything I made. That crippled me. Who’s going to wear my clothes if one of the most famous models in the country and all of her friends were saying they hate my clothes? No one.

It’s one thing to accuse me of being a whore; it’s a whole other thing to mess with my career. Yeah, I’m going to kick her ass when I see her.

I wasn’t sleeping with Aiden before then, but with the damage that Ramey did to my relationship and my career, I sure as hell slept with him after I fled to Atlanta...many times. If I ever see Ramey again, I’m going to let her know that I fucked her ex and had his baby. All she got from Aiden was a new Mercedes.

Karma is a bitch.

Aiden and Ramey haven’t been together in forever, Delilah interrupted my angry thoughts. Why didn’t you go back to designing instead of styling? You make clothes for me and Erica all the time.

I’m waiting for the right time, I lied. No need to get into that discussion.

No one needs to know that my fear of constantly living in Aiden’s shadow is the real reason I haven’t designed anything in a very long time. It’s the one thing that cripples me. I don’t want people buying my clothes just because of the link between me and Aiden. I want people to wear my clothes despite of him not because of him.

Now that the entire world knows that I have a kid by Aiden, they still assume that Ramey was telling the truth. That means I have to work ten times harder to prove that I’m damn good at what I do. I have to be able to do this on my own, without his name carrying me.

When you get this studio, Delilah was careful not to say if, you are going to be super popular. Have you considered giving up styling and just design?

I nodded. "I’ve considered it. I love making clothes for my friends, but I enjoy being a stylist more. I was born to do this. People are finally looking past my tarnished reputation and are seeing my talent. S.T.Y.L.E.Z by Sunny will never be a clothing line. For now, it’s just the name of my business. I’ll do another line one day when the time is right."

Kind of like Rachel Zoe? She waited a while before she did a clothing line too.

Yes, I laughed. Exactly like her. I’m getting there, Bubbles.

The studio was just thirty minutes from Aiden’s place but it felt like the mansion and the studio were worlds apart. On an industrial block in the art district of Los Angeles, the Cosmic Studio building sat surrounded by quaint shops and other similar buildings. Clay Daniels was waiting outside of my unit when Delilah and I arrived. This is the third time I’ve been by. I know he’s getting antsy.

Thanks for meeting me again, I greeted him.

Clay smiled at us. You’re late. Are you sure you’re only considering this building? Don’t lead me on, Sunny. His tone was teasing. I smiled back.

I wouldn’t do that. You know I love this building.

Well, let’s go check out your space again.

As he unlocked the studio door, I looked down at his left hand. No ring. That’s a good sign. Clay is so fine that if he were in a relationship, it would be a sad day for single women. His deep voice makes every single hair on my body stand on end and juices flow that haven’t flowed in years.

Erica’s presence at our first two meetings made it hard for me to actually talk about anything other than the space since she was drooling all over him and pointing out how good his ass looked in his jeans. Clay definitely meets my requirements for a friend with benefits. If I could just get him alone, maybe we could seal more than one deal today.

Delilah leaned in close to me as we walked into the studio behind Clay and whispered, He’s fine! Is he single?

Ignoring my pesky and very married sidekick, I focused all of my attention the hunky piece of man candy in front of me.

How are you, Sunny? Clay smiled again.

Do not melt! I scolded myself. Or stutter.

I’m doing well. I just need to see this place one more time before making an offer.

Sure, look around.

The last time I came, the studio was still in use by a team of amateur filmmakers. Now it sat completely empty. I marveled at the sheer starkness of the fresh coats of white paint. Each wall felt like a blank canvas that I could make come alive with vivid colors and bright paintings.

When I showed him the pictures of the studio, Aiden