“Self-serve? What am I? A gas station?”
“You know what I mean.” I curl my fingers and move my hand up and down, just enough for him to get the hint. “Like, in the shower or something?”
“You want me to cheat on you with Rosie Palm and her five friends?”
I nod, my face heating. He’s making it sound like holding his hard cock in the shower in his own hand is the ultimate dirty act. And instead of being mildly offended, the mental image is making me want to squirm. I suddenly realize my nipples are hard and aching. God, I’m a mess. An emotional and sexual mess.
“For six interminable weeks?” he says.
I clear my throat. “I won’t hold it against you. Besides, it isn’t really six weeks, because even if we were married for real, we couldn’t do it every single week anyway.”
He looks puzzled. “Why not?”
I give him a withering look. “Think about it.” I am not discussing my monthly cycle with my boss. Aunt Flo is coming in less than two weeks, and she always stays for a week.
“I don’t know about sticking with Rosie for that long. She’s a one-trick palm.”
“You do actually have two hands…”
He shakes his head. “Same thing.”
Hmm… I guess doing the same thing for six weeks can be tedious. The most logical solution would be to tell him to do it with other women. It’s not like we’re really married, but somehow, my tongue refuses to form the words. There’s a huge, burning knot in my throat, like it would cause me physical damage to suggest he should just…seek some variety with someone else.
So I just say, “Well, I’m sure you can survive that long. After all, you’ve been drinking the same kale shake for nine months.”
Guilt pricks at me. I haven’t been cruel enough to make the exact same shake every morning. I vary it by adding broccoli one day, spinach another and artichoke hearts the next, and cycle them throughout.
“I see,” he says finally. Is it my imagination, or does he sound slightly disappointed that I haven’t done better with his shakes?
He opens his mouth, but I don’t want to talk about sex or veggie shakes anymore. “Look, I’m going to go and grab a few things from my place. And I’ll make something for dinner.”
He looks mildly surprised. “You don’t have to. We can cater.”
“I know, but it’s your mother’s first meal with her ‘daughter-in-law.’ There’s no way I can cater. Or do takeout.” I certainly wouldn’t do that to my own mom.
“But like you said, we aren’t even married for real.”
“Yeah, but she’s your mother. She deserves that much. So what time is she going to be there?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Evie
I drive to my place first to pack enough things to look like Nate and I live together. It isn’t a lot—just toiletries, underwear, pajamas, a few T-shirts and shorts. Some work clothes. Oh, and shoes. I put everything into my two suitcases.
I’ve got Kim on speakerphone the entire time. Partly because I need somebody to talk to and partly because I need my friend’s distraction and support.
“Wow. His mom. That’s serious. Blanche Sterling is really reclusive, from what I’ve heard. Doesn’t travel much, just stays out in her house somewhere in Ohio. Her husband died a while back. Anyway, it’s a big deal she’s coming out to L.A. to see you. She didn’t do that for Vanessa.”
Shit. Does this mean I should change into something better? Maybe my black cocktail dress? I’ve never met Nate’s mom, but if she’s anything like Kim’s boss’s wife, she’s going to be expensive and fashionable, with hair the same color as when she was in her twenties. And she’ll be in designer stilettos and a beautiful haute couture dress.
“By the way, do I need a new roommate?” Kim asks. “Not that I want to get rid of you or anything, but I don’t feel right asking you to pay for your portion if you aren’t even living with me, you know?”
“I don’t mind. It’s only for a month and a half. And I’ll need a place to stay once the divorce proceedings start.”
“Okay.”
“Now, tell me more about Nate’s mother. Do you know what she likes to eat?” Please say it’s something I know how to make. If not, I’ll have to look up a recipe online and hope for the best.