“I think it looks great.” She’d spent the entire morning at the salon, and while I wasn’t a huge fan of the new red color, I wasn’t about to tell her that. “What about you? Do you like it?”
“Not as crazy about this particular shade of red as I thought I’d be, but I’m hoping it will grow on me.” She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms with a smile. “So, how was last night?”
“It was fine.”
“Did you drink the wine I got you?”
“Yeah, I had a couple of glasses.”
“And what about the rom-com? Did you find a good one to watch?”
“No. I really didn’t have time.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I was just doing other stuff.”
“Like what?” Her eyes grew wide as she gasped, “Did you try the vibrator?”
“No!” I glanced around the coffee shop to make sure no one heard her. “I didn’t use it and lower your voice. Someone might hear you.”
“There are two people in here, and they both look like they are close to eighty. I doubt either of them heard me, and even if they did, I doubt they even know what a vibrator is.” She leaned over to me as she said, “And even if they did, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a single mother with absolutely no chance of getting laid.”
“Yes, I do!”
“Yeah, whatever. Those cobwebs are growing by the second, so it’s either use that vibrator I gave you or form an intimate relationship with your showerhead.”
“I’ll have you know I have no need for the vibrator or my showerhead. And whatever cobwebs I may or may not have had are gone.”
“What?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’ve had sex?”
I glanced around once more, checking to see if anyone could hear as I asked, “Could you be any louder?”
“Answer the question, Frankie!”
“Yes.” I turned to start a fresh pot of coffee as I said, “I had sex.”
“What?” She stepped over to me and leaned forward with her face inches from mine. “With who?”
“It doesn’t matter who.” I turned my attention back to the coffee maker. “Now, drop it.”
“You tell me you finally had sex with someone after ump-teen years, and you just want me to leave it?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.”
“But we tell each other everything.”
I shook my head. “Not this time.”
“Oh...my...God. You banged the hot biker!” She gave me a playful shove. “You little slut! I’m so proud of you.”
“I never said he was the one I slept with.”
“You didn’t have to.” A proud smirk crossed her face as she toyed with a strand of her freshly dyed hair. “It’s written all over your face.”
“No, it is not.” My tone was harsh, almost too harsh. “Now, please, just drop it.”
“Fine.” She held her hands up in surrender. “I’ll let you have this one, but the next time I have a wild night of hot sex, I’m not telling you about it.”
“I’ll survive.” When my cell started to ring, I picked it up and groaned when I saw it was Marc calling. Worried something might be wrong, I rushed towards the office as I told Sydney, “It’s Marc. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”
“Be sure and tell Asshat I said hello.”
“Um-hmm. Sure will.” I closed my office door as I answered, “Hello?”
“Sean has basketball practice tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yeah. I’m aware and planning to pick him up as soon as it’s over.”
“Hmm.” I could almost feel the tension in his voice as he said, “Surprised you had time to make plans for your children with all you have going on.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw you last night,” he snarled.
“You saw me? When?”
“Last night.” His words dripped with anger. “The boys and I were headed home from the big game, and when we came by the coffee shop, I saw you and your friend getting into your car. Looks like you found yourself a real winner, Frankie. Thank God the boys didn’t see you with garbage like that.”
Hearing him talk about Roman in such a negative way infuriated me. I wanted to lay into him and tell him to kiss my ass, but the boys were with him. I didn’t want my actions to make their weekend with him any more difficult than it already was. I’d already been there. Done that. It wasn’t that long ago when Marc lost it on the boys.
The boys hadn’t wanted to go to his house for the entire weekend, so I let them tell him a little, white lie that they had a bowling party to go to that Friday night. I knew it was wrong to let them lie, to lie myself, but they were so adamant about not wanting to go. Marc had just gotten remarried to Lila Jo, our family hairdresser and friend, and the boys just wanted some time to adjust to things. I couldn’t blame them. Marc had spent years trying to cover it up, but everyone knew they’d been having an affair and were horrified by the fact. The whole thing sickened the boys, and they wanted no part of it—so I went along with the lie about bowling.