“I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not gonna work,” Patti said sternly.
“Sure it is,” Jules said brightly. “And do you know how I know this?”
Patti was afraid to ask, but she played along anyway, curious to hear her answer. “How?”
“Because we’re coming over tonight and dragging you out of that broken down chair, forcing you out of those stained-up, hole-infested sweats, and dragging you out by the hair if needed. We’ll be there by seven.”
Jules hung up on her and Patti set the phone aside, looking down at her baggy, stained, and moth-eaten clothing, and sighed. How did she know? Had she become that predictable, or was her friend a psychic? Fearing the former to be true, Patti dragged herself from the chair and took a look around her living room. Discarded wrappers from various Hostess snacks littered nearly every surface. With the curtains drawn, it felt like a cave, and when she ran her fingers through her uncombed hair, the sheer amount of grease she felt built up there disgusted her.
The full weight of her reality settled on her shoulders, bogging her down. Jules was right, she was depressed. And the only way she knew to fix it, was to drag herself out of the trenches and climb back on the horse, and the best way to start down that road was with a shower.
“Someone, get me a double vodka neat, stat.” Patti dropped her purse under the table and plopped down in one of the empty chairs.
Jules volunteered, taking orders for everyone at the table. “Don’t start without me!” she shouted over the music as she bounced off to the bar. She’d lied earlier about bringing the gang out for an intervention. It ended up being just her, but her forceful, take no prisoners attitude more than made up for it, and she had Patti primed and ready to go in under an hour.
Now, Patti looked around the table at the familiar faces of her friends. To her right sat Sheila, then Lynn, and then Piper. Beside Piper sat an unfamiliar face. The woman appeared small, like herself, with vibrant red hair twisted high on top of her head; however, she was a complete stranger to her.
Patti glanced around the table at her girls, making eye contact with each one briefly in askance.
“Oh, right,” Sheila said, perking up. She pointed her fluorescent green nail mere inches from the strange woman’s face. “That’s Piper’s friend, Poppy. Poppy works for Piper’s boss, Felix, who she is also screwing.”
“Sheila!” Piper scolded. An laugh of embarrassment bubbled from her lips. “What did we talk about?”
Sheila huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I forgot.” With raised eyebrows, she turned back to Patti. “They’re ‘making love’ because they’re in love,” she said, making air quotes.
Patti turned her head to Piper and hitched her thumb over her shoulder at Sheila. “Is she drunk?”
“Good Lord is she ever,” Piper said dramatically. “She and Tom got into an argument or something, so apparently she’s made it her personal mission to drink her weight in liquor.”
“And what about you?” Patti asked, staring pointedly at her protruding belly. “You’d better not be drinking too, or I’ll personally kick your ass.”
Piper held up her hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just here for moral support. If I so much as thought about taking a drink, Tate would bend me over his knee and whip my ass red.”
“Hey now! Save it for the bedroom!” Lynn cried, covering her ears. “Nobody wants to hear about the kinky crap you’re into.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sheila said with a mischievous laugh. “I could use a little more kink in my life.”
“Who’s kinky? What did I miss?” Jules dipped back into her chair and slid Patti her double shot.
“Piper likes to get spanked,” Sheila divulged.
“I do not!” Piper’s face turned crimson.
Patti gulped her drink, tuning out their conversation. The club was packed. It was also loud. She longed for the comfort of her cozy recliner and baggy clothes. Not that she didn’t enjoy her time with her friends, but it felt like too much stimulation too soon. Trying to shrug herself from her quickly spiraling thoughts, she turned to face the woman seated to her left.
“So, what’s your story?” she asked, tipping her head at the new girl, Poppy, she thought her name was.
Poppy smiled shyly and glanced at Piper as if asking her permission. “Go ahead and tell them,” Piper encouraged her. “We’re all friends here. It’s safe,” she said with laughter in her eyes.
Poppy shifted under the weight of half a dozen sets of eyes resting on her, and cleared her throat. “My boyfriend wants me to sell my house and come live with him in the city.”
Sheila jolted back in her seat, covering her mouth to silence her gasp of mocked outrage. “That scumbag! Asking you to move in with him. Just who does he think he is?”
Poppy frowned.
“Knock it off, spaz,” Jules warned her. “You’re getting belligerent and if you can’t collect your shit, I’m calling in reinforcements.” She raised her hand, calling over a member of the wait staff, and ordered a bottle of water.
“You’re cutting me off?” Sheila whined, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Yep,” Jules said, and then turned her attention to Poppy. “Sorry about the drunk and disorderly over here. She’s having issues. You were saying?”
“Uhhh…”
Piper took pity on her and filled everyone in on what was happening. “Poppy bought her house after her divorce, but she’s been dating Felix for a while now, and since she spends most of her time at his place, he thinks it makes more sense for her to move in with him than pay a mortgage for a house she barely spends any time in.”
“That makes sense,” Jules said with a nod.
“Yeah, but it’s not like he’s proposing marriage,” Patti pointed out.
Piper snapped her fingers. “Exactly. What if Poppy sells her house and moves in with him, and then he rolls out of bed one day and decides it just isn’t working out? Then she’s out on her ass without a house to fall back on.”
“While that’s true,” Lynn piped up, “if you love the guy, you have to be willing to take a risk.”
Poppy fiddled with her glass. “I know. It’s just hard to leave things up to chance when you don’t know what lies ahead.”
“Unless it’s a financial strain, why not keep it as a vacation home?” Patti suggested. “You could use it to get away on the weekends. Heck, you could even rent it out to your friends,” she said, spanning her arms open wide. “We could all use a little retreat from the city now and then.”
“That is a really great idea,” Poppy said. “I think I’ll mention that to Felix and see what he thinks about it.” She smiled widely. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Patti held up her hand, summoning another waiter. “Now that that’s all sorted out, let’s get wasted!”
3
Jon stepped into Carnal with a blonde on one arm and a brunette on the other. Stepping in beside them, his best friend and wingman, Travis, motioned to the dance floor, and then melted into the throng with his own date.
Music vibrated through his body as Jon carved a path through the crowd toward an empty table in the back. He seated the women, and then squatted down between them, motioning them closer so he could speak without shouting. “What can I get you ladies to drink?”
“Grey Goose,” the blonde told him, smiling demurely with lips so thick and glossy they screamed sin.
“Martini, dirty.” The brunette seated to his left wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled his face to hers. Their mouths meshed, and she slipped her tongue inside his, wasting no time letting him know where she expected this night to end.
Jon pulled back with a lazy grin and wiped the excess moisture from his lips with his fingertips. “That’s an order I have no problem filling. Don’t go anywhere.”