“You know, usually it’s the woman that runs late,” I tell Ethan, rolling my eyes.
He gl
ares at me. “You want to tell Cheryl that you have to go to a party when she’s going over the weekly schedule?”
I shrug. Cheryl is a sweetie, and I know Ethan realizes that.
“Besides, what’s this party for again?” he asks me.
I swear, he may be handsome and intelligent and sweet, but sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t have selective memory. Or selective hearing.
“Alexis invited us to the launch of her book,” I tell Ethan. “You know, like I told you at least three times this morning.”
“Oh, fuck. You’re right,” Ethan says. “What book again?”
Oh. My. God.
I swear to…
That’s when I see Ethan smile and give me his infuriating but charming smirk.
“Got you, didn’t I?” he asks.
Ugh. Sometimes I love him, but I just want to punch him.
He comes over to me and stands close. “Here,” he says. “I got you this.”
He pulls out an envelope and hands it to me.
“What is it?” I ask even as I open it.
“Alexis wanted us to have it in case our lives ever got interesting again,” he tells me.
I look at it. Its a single paper.
With a few contact details.
Alexis Angel:
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alexis.angel.754
Newsletter: Naughty Angels.
Newsletter Link: http://eepurl.com/cu4ET9
I look up at Ethan. “Do you think our lives will continue to be as interesting?” I ask him.
He smiles at me. I’m sure that our lives won’t be boring, but I wouldn’t really mind. As long as my family is around me.
“Well, you know, after Alexis wrote Red & Blue and the Governor and that Mayor fucking the Senator, or Scandalous about the Mayor’s son fucking his hot stepmom, or Client 5 about Arsen and his phone sex business, she’s been pretty hot,” Ethan says.
“I think the only thing I haven’t read by her is Jailbait,” I tell Ethan, rolling my eyes. This is old news to me. I’m the one that found Alexis, remember?
“Yeah, but did you know she also writes in collaboration with another author called Erin Wright? They’re going to have a new pen name called Mona Cox,” Ethan tells me.
I look over at him. Big, hulking, cut, ripped, whatever you want to call it. He’s talking to me about fucking romance novels.