Lizzie thought Vance’s jaw was about to come unhinged from shock after she’d told him of her little escape in the Ryde. “Girl, you did what with Maverick in the back seat of a Ryde?”
Her best friend, dressed as Axl Rose, complete with full head bandana, eagerly shook the martini shaker filled with some frothy delight as they both stood in his immaculate kitchen, the sounds of ’80s hits blaring across the house, which was elbow-to-elbow in Michael Jacksons, Marty McFlys and even a Punky Brewster.
“I know. I can’t quite believe it myself.” Vance poured a pink cocktail into a martini glass and handed it to her. She took a sip and giggled.
“You are really channeling Madonna tonight. ‘Vogue.’” He shook his head in amazement. “So? What’s his name? Did you get his number?”
Lizzie sighed. “No.”
“Wait, you tell me you get wild and you don’t even exchange numbers? You? Miss Date-By-the-Numbers?”
“I know, but his ex called. Seemed like there was some kind of drama right when I got out of the car, and I invited him in, but he opted to go. So, you know. She called and he came running, so he’s not interested in me.”
Vance barked a laugh. “He mauled you in the back seat of a Ryde. He’s definitely interested.”
Lizzie bit her lip, feeling uncertain as she ran a finger along the rim of her martini glass. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Vance swept back his long, straight wig. “Why don’t we search for him?”
“Everywhere—Twitter, Facebook, whatever. Material Girl Searches for Maverick. Let’s see what we find.”
Lizzie hesitated. She did want to see Maverick again. He had seemed very interested right before he got that phone call. And was it really fair of her to jump to conclusions about it? It was still Halloween, and maybe she wasn’t done having fun just yet.