A few minutes later, Max returned with their drinks. Sally’s was in a standard cocktail glass.
“A cherry Manhattan,” Sally told her after Max handed her the drink.
Amy’s cocktail was in a margarita glass, though clearly it wasn’t a margarita. It was white, somewhat creamy and had a sugared rim. Eagerly, Amy brought it to her lips and took a sip. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Oh my fucking god!” she exclaimed. “This is soooooo good!” She took another sip and then turned to Sally. “Sweetie, taste this!”
“Holy fuck!” Sally gasped, staring up at Max. “Babe, what is that?”
Amy clocked Sally calling Max “babe.” Again, she felt a pang of jealousy but not because she suddenly suspected Sally and Max were lovers. If the past two nights had shown Amy anything, it was that Sally is as lesbian as they come. No, again, as silly as it was, Amy wanted to be close enough friends with Max to call him a pet name.
This is ridiculous!
“So, Amy…” Max began, taking a seat in an easy chair which looked like it could belong on a spaceship. “Let’s address the elephant in the room. I hope you’re not pissed at Sally for the role she played in my little deception on your podcast. It was my idea and my idea alone.”
Amy smiled, impressed. It was big of him to be sure to let her know it had all been his idea.
“I just hope you’re not pissed at Sally for telling me almost right away,” Amy returned.
“I am,” Max said. “In fact, I poisoned her drink.”
And Amy burst out laughing when Sally started to choke after having just taken a sip.
“Anyway,” Max continued. “I hope you understand my motivations. I’m proud of the Jillian Ashley books, I am; but let’s face it—a straight man putting his name on a lesfic book? What do you think would have happened?”
That was too easy. Amy knew that if Max had published the first book, The Fordham Fling, using his own name and bio…the lesbians would have closed ranks and made sure he never tried to do something that stupid again.
“Exactly,” Max said, even though Amy had not spoken a word in response to his question. Her answer must have been written on her face. “The problem was, after all this time, Jillian needed to be seen, and that’s where Sally came in. But it was all my idea, not hers. The only thing I didn’t factor into my calculations was you being so beautiful and this one…” he tilted his head towards Sally “…going nuts for you.”
Again, Amy burst out laughing when, once more, Sally started choking.
Chapter 20
Sally was breathing easier. Things were going well.
Even though she hadn’t admitted it to Amy, she had been incredibly nervous about her meeting Max, afraid that Amy would just go off on him for dashing her expectations of who Jillian Ashley really was and for his role in putting Sally on camera for the podcast interview. It would have been Amy’s prerogative, Sally supposed, considering…but Sally didn’t want to ambush Max with an angry lesbian. Thus, ever since arriving at his house nearly twenty minutes ago now, Sally had been on tenterhooks, wondering if at any moment Amy would venomously start chastising Max for daring to infiltrate the sacred world of lesfic with his testosterone and testicles and then blaming him for everything from global warming to John F. Kennedy’s assassination.
Instead, Amy was obviously having a blast here at Max’s house and it was clear Max had charmed the pants off of her. In fact, if Sally hadn’t known just how gay Amy was, she would swear that there was a chance Amy would opt to spend the night here with their host. And not in the spare bedroom either.
Currently, Amy was laughing at yet another funny story Max was telling about his childhood in the Bronx. It made Sally extremely happy to see the interaction between the two of them. Max was just as important to Sally’s life as Lisa was: an indispensable friend she couldn’t imagine being without. And Amy…
Well, it was still waaaaaaay too early to consider anything about Amy! she reminded herself. Sally didn’t want to let her mind wander down that rabbit hole. She’d made that mistake before! Finding herself deeply smitten early on with a fabulous and sexy woman only to find out later that either A: said woman was not really so fabulous (although she was still sexy), or B: said woman was not even close to being as deeply smitten yet, which inevitably creates all sorts of awkwardness in a relationship.
All Sally would commit to now was that it was wonderful to see that Amy got along with one of her best friends.
“So, guess what?” Sally interjected when there was a lull in the conversation between Amy and Max. “My Mom now thinks I’m a bestselling writer of lesbian romances.”
Max laughed.
“The great Dr. Lassiter got wind of it?” he asked. “How did you explain that?” He looked at Amy. “Her mother hates me, by the way.”
Amy turned to Sally, an expression of surprise on her face.
“She does?”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Sally insisted. “She just doesn’t understand our friendship. If you really want to know the truth, I think she has a crush on you and is annoyed that you’ve never asked her out.”
That made Max laugh even harder.