Nothing Good Gets Away

Chapter 18

HARRY STYLES

"So what do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh, um," I tsk and press my lips together as I consider the question that I already saw coming at some point. By now, I'd think I would have found a good answer. "I like to hang out with my friends, and I recently started hiking on my days off, so I enjoy that a lot."

"Oh my God, I love hiking!" Allison smiles with blinding white teeth. "I always try and go right after my morning pilates class with my girlfriends, and then we go to brunch. Do you like brunch?"

It takes me a second to process when she spoke so fast. "Brunch is just a late breakfast, right?"

"Technically, yeah, but it's more than that. It's a lifestyle, really."

I laugh because I think she's joking, but she just looks at me like she doesn't get it. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

"I mean, like, it's the perfect time to get together with your girlfriends and drink in the afternoon, and that's when all the really good tea is spilled. It's different than going to lunch or dinner."

"Hm," I nod slowly. "I never thought about it before."

"It's like golfing for guys," she explains, "that's their manly way of spilling the tea."

What the fuck does it mean to spill tea?

"Oh okay, makes sense," I sip from my water. "So is that what you like to do for fun? Brunch?"

"Uh..." she drags the word out for maybe thirty seconds, stroking her dirty blonde hair. "I really love shopping, like, on Rodeo Drive. Prada is my favorite, and Gucci. Like, retail therapy is always good. And I like getting drinks with my friends on the weekend. I love having new content for my Instagram, so it's fun for us to have photo shoots and stuff, and it's also my job, so...yeah."

"What do you do for work?" I ask, hoping that she didn't already put that on her dating profile, but I'm sure she did just like I did.

"I'm a fashion influencer," she smiles proudly. "So basically, brands pay me to wear their clothes and try to get other people to buy them. And I do the same thing with makeup and stuff. I have, like, 25,000 followers on Instagram."

"Oh, well...that sounds like a fun job," I cut into the last bit of the chicken on my plate, but the noise of disagreement she makes forces me to stop.

"Sure, it's a little fun, but it's really hard work. I mean, you have no idea how much pressure I'm under from all these brands that reach out to me, and it takes so long to put together TikToks. People always think it's just fun and easy, but it's one of the hardest jobs that no one ever talks about."

I clear my throat, holding back the urge to remind her that there are some people who run into burning buildings to save lives for a living, who perform unexpected emergency surgery on a dying person, who go to war. All the while, she has to take pictures of herself and post them on the internet.

"I'm sure, yeah," I vaguely agree, and I hate myself for doing it when she smiles like she's pleased with my response.

"What do you do?" She asks. "Sorry, I forgot what you said about it on your profile."

At least she's honest.

"I'm a tattoo artist," I sit back in my seat, leaving my meal untouched now that I've lost my appetite.

She gasps. "Where?"

"At the, uh...it's called The Shamrock Social–"

"Shut up!" She smacks the table, shaking our glasses and silverware. "Did you know Rihanna has been tattooed there? Did you tattoo her?"