“Wanna go to a movie?” Sophie suggests as we leave. I stare at her in shock. She hasn’t wanted to go to a movie with me in forever. I turned un-cool right about the time she turned thirteen. A total coincidence, I’m sure.
Sophie giggles as my mouth practically drops open.
“What?” she looks at me innocently. “It’s a girl’s day, isn’t it?”
I melt again.
So, we go to a movie, share a giant tub of buttered popcorn and a vat of coke. Then we return home, pull on sweat pants and watch chick flicks all night.
As I lay curled up with my angelic-at-the-moment daughter, I ponder my state of current good luck.
All in all, I f**ked an amazing younger sex god, ran down my cheating ex-husband’s new fiancée (On accident!!) and had a spectacular girl’s day with my sometimes-surly-but-not-today teen daughter. It was a fabulous f**king weekend.
Oh, and I forgot the fact that I have mastered the art of saying f**k.
Fuck, f**k, f**k, f**kity, f**k.
See? I’m getting good at it.
Chapter Six
(Or: When life throws you curve balls, f**k the pitcher)
“I didn’t return your calls yesterday because I was busy all day. You know, plowing down Rick’s fiancée in a parking lot,” I tell Sara as I chew on a pickle. She is picking apart her sandwich in agitation. “Don’t do that. You’re going to get ham under your fingernails.”
Sara glares at me. “I heard you the first time you explained it. And we’ll get back to that because it’s effing hilarious. But first, I’m mad at you. Seriously. How hard would it have been to simply call me back for just one minute so that you could tell me how it went with Shade? The whole thing was my idea. I deserve to hear all of the juicy details.”
I laugh. “Don’t you mean you deserve to get off on all the juicy details?”
She glares at me and I laugh again. She does have a point.
“Okay, okay. Yes, I know. I owe you for this one. Shade was fabulous.”
Her eyes light up. “So, you did love riding the teenage pony?”
I shudder.
“Shade is not a teenager.”
She grins. “I know. But he’s the closest legal thing.”
“You’re a sick, sick person, you know that?” I tell her. She nods without shame.
“I know. And for the record, I don’t really want a teenager. I just like to be shocking.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter.
“But that’s neither here nor there,” she announces with her fire-engine-red lips. “I only have thirty minutes left til I have to be back at the office. I have an open house this afternoon. I need to know. Was it amazing? Do you owe me a Lexus or a Ferrari?”
I grin. “Neither. But I do owe you a huge f**king thank you.”
She squeals. “I knew it!! Tell me All. Of. It.”
So I do. I tell her of the handcuffs, the rough sex, the licking, the biting, the….everything. She is staring dreamily into space as I finish up.
“I knew he’d be good,” she tells me, drumming her red fingertips on the bistro table. “If I weren’t so loyal to Chaz and so dedicated to ensuring that he gets a good college education, I might try Shade out.”
“Ha! You don’t care about his college tuition,” I say, but I am shocked by how territorial I feel toward Shade and by how much I don’t want him to have sex with Sara. I gulp. He’s a gigolo. He has sex with a lot of people. That’s what he does. It’s his job. I gulp again.
“I do, too,” Sara insists. “I am a true patron of the arts. Particularly interactive arts.”
I giggle. “Sara, ha**ng s*x is not an art.”
She glares at me. “If you believe that, then you aren’t doing it right. Speaking of doing it right, I made an appointment for you to go with me to get a Brazilian done day after tomorrow. You can thank me later. Or rather, Shade can.” She laughs evilly. I stare at her, my mouth hanging open
“A Brazilian? As in, a Brazilian wax? Down there?”
My crotch is instantly terrified and tries to crawl inside of my body at my words.
I silently croon to it. It’s okay, my pet. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.
Aloud, I say, “You must be insane, Sara. I will never, ever, ever get a Brazilian wax. Not ever. Not in a million years. Uh-uh. Not happening.”
She stares at me, unconcerned.
“I already made the appointment. It’s at 6:45. You’re going to go. You’ll love it. Shade will love it. It will release your inner lioness. Trust me.”
“I’m not a lioness and I’m not going,” I insist.
And in this moment, I mean it.
“Oh, you’re going,” she says as she takes her last bite of sandwich.
“Whatever you want to think,” I shake my head as I gather my trash. “I’ve got to get back to work. Apparently, we’re meeting our new Vice President today. I can’t be late getting back.”
Sara looks at me. “How’s Brainy Brian doing? You know what they say about smart guys. They have big penises.”
“No one says that,” I sigh as I grab my purse. Brainy Brian is a recently divorced guy at work. He’s decent looking, nice and makes good money. Sara has been convinced for several months now that I should date him, if only to practice. He’s not my type—he’s too wishy-washy. I need someone more assertive. And for some reason, I highly doubt that he has a big penis. Not that it matters.
Unless it is way too small.
But that doesn’t matter to me anyway, because I’m not interested.
“And he’s the same as always, Sara. Want me to get his number for you?”
“Maybe,” she calls after me. “Call me tonight.”
“Maybe,” I call back.
I drive the short distance back to work from the little park that Sara and I always meet in to have lunch. I like the fountains there and she likes the shirtless male roller-bladers. It’s also a perfect middle distance between her real estate office and my office building. We’re all about compromise.