* * *
Easton
Dear Easton,
* * *
No. I don’t think your heart is cold at all. You couldn’t do what you do if it were that chilly.
Or chilly at all.
* * *
It’s warmer than you think. Like, a fire just starting to crackle.
* * *
In any case, it was, admittedly, lovely to hear stories about the couples you brought together. What can I say? Love stories make me happy. You probably think me a sap. But I’m okay with that.
* * *
Bellamy
Dear Bellamy,
* * *
I don’t just think you’re a sap. I know you are, Carrie Bradshaw. And it’s one of the many qualities you own so fucking well.
* * *
That really was an incredible gesture, and the CEO of Victoire just called to say how delighted she is with the social media chatter. She’s also going to attend the next party. I’ve convinced her to search for true love there too.
* * *
Allow me to say this from the truest part of my cold soul—you are extraordinary.
* * *
Easton
Dear Easton,
* * *
Thank you.
* * *
And I’m happy the situation is resolving. Truly happy.
* * *
But now I’ve grown agitated because we’re getting along too well. That’s horrifying! Horrifying, I say!
* * *
I insist we return to our official places in the courtroom. The cross-examination and mutual distrust must resume. Stat!
* * *
Bellamy
Dear Bellamy,
* * *
Speaking of those opposite corners, don’t think I’ve forgotten I have a bet with you to win. And I intend to emerge the victor and will enjoy hearing you extoll the promise of my parties. So, as per our deal, since you’ll be attending my next party as a guest, it’s fitting that I get to know what you’re looking for in a man.
Besides the obvious. Brilliant, captivating, and well hung.
* * *
Yours in I’ve figured out that much,
* * *
Easton
Dear Easton,
* * *
But that’s only a small piece of me. Sure, I like a well-endowed man, but what turns me on more is a man who knows what to do with everything he has.
Especially his mind.
* * *
But do you really want to reveal my bedroom tastes to others?
* * *
Bellamy
Dear Bellamy,
* * *
Scratch that.
* * *
There’s no way on heaven and earth that I’d ever let another man know what you like in bed. That’s for me to do to you, and with you, and for you. Ideally, tomorrow night.
* * *
Easton
Dear Easton,
* * *
Ah, but you’re late with an RSVP. My dance card tomorrow night is packed. I’ve been enlisted to go to Stallions and Studs for a scouting trip with Coco and TJ.
* * *
We could meet after, maybe? I’ll be done by nine.
Or maybe nine-ish.
* * *
Bellamy
Dear Bellamy,
* * *
Right. Sure. “Enlisted.” Why do I have a feeling that you offered? Or even insisted?
* * *
Yours in I bet nine-ish is more like eleven or so,
* * *
Easton
Dear Easton,
* * *
Fine, I volunteered the fuck out of my services for recon. Can you blame me? Now I’m off to the bank to make change. Gotta have lots of dollar bills.
* * *
See you after the strip club. Maybe it’ll give you some ideas for how I like lap dances from brilliant, well-hung men who turn out to be complete cuddle bears in bed.
* * *
Bellamy
Dear Bellamy,
* * *
I do not cuddle.
* * *
Easton
Dear Easton,
* * *
No. It’s more like you wrap yourself around me, octopi style.
* * *
Bellamy
36
My Happy Place
As Nolan and I settle in for tapas at The Lucky Spot, my Saturday night text messages go something like this . . .
* * *
Bellamy: I’ve got my notebook, pen, and the start of a pros and cons list for each dancer.
* * *
Coco: The man at the door in the leather vest gave me quite a once-over. And before you even say a word, he’s closer to my age than these strippers are. He’s also quite handsome.
* * *
TJ: Want to lay a wager on who’ll be first to order a lap dance? Your grandma or your woman?
* * *
I reply to Bellamy first with, I can only imagine how scathing your pros and cons list might be, then to Coco, writing, I presume you’re beguiling to men of all ages.
Next, I flash my screen at Nolan, since TJ sent his text to the two of us. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking for the answer?”
“I better be,” he says. “Count of three?”
“Three, two, one,” I say, then, in a glorious mind meld, we type out the same answer to TJ: And we’re betting on you.
Nolan and I knock fists as Spencer brings me a seltzer water and Nolan a beer. Waggling the phone at my cousin, I show him the thread. “Our grandmother is keeping everyone busy tonight.”
Spencer reads, then points to TJ’s recent text. “He called her your woman. And you didn’t deny it,” he says with a smirk.