“Come on, Isla. There must be someone you’re interested in,” Holland insists, a particular light glinting in her eye. Like a love supervillain. Holland has her suspicions about Niko, given our paths crossed very early one morning last year at a house party. We were both undertaking our own walk of shame; mine from Niko’s bed and hers from my brother’s. At the time, she was employed as my nanny.
“There isn’t.” I shrug, uninterested, ignoring the bait and her comic expression.
“Someone!” she adds dramatically.
“Sorry. I like my life as it is.” Well, bits of it. Please, God, let tomorrow go okay, and I won’t ever complain again. “I have no plans to complicate any of it.” Further, I silently tag on.
“Complications can be fun,” Kennedy suggests. “Even when you tell yourself you’re not interested.
“I don’t have time for a man in my life. Not with the business, the boys, and the house. Speaking of the boys, they’ve been gone ages, haven’t they?”
“I got a text from Alexander an hour ago,” Holland says quickly. “Stop trying to change the subject.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying that I’m not interested. Besides, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Methinks the lady knows exactly where to start. And who to start with.”
Yes, by not touching that.
“Who?” Kennedy demands.
“There really isn’t anyone,” I insist.
“No cute, single dads at the boys school?” Kennedy pops another cheese topped cracker into her mouth.
Leaning forward, I snag a grape from the platter. “I’m not sure. How do I spot them? Dark bags under their eyes? A harried expression?”
“Okay, fine. So no single dads.”
I have enough baggage of my own.
“You could join a couple of singles nights,” she suggests.
“In rural Scotland?” I scrunch my nose. “Those would be some slim pickings, indeed.”
“Alexander can’t be the only duke here abouts,” Kennedy persists.
I grimace.
“Dukes are thin on the ground,” Holland says. “Chrissy said there are a couple of earls and a whole heap of barons, not that Isla’s interested.” She slides me a look. “She has very particular tastes.”
“I think you’ll find I have no taste. Not taste for involvement or complications.”
“What about joining a dating site?” Kennedy suggests as though I haven’t spoken. “It would increase the size of the dating pool.”
“Sadly, the dating pool has pee in it,” I say, draining my third margarita far too easily.
“Some people like that kind of thing,” replies Kennedy.
“Peeing in pools?” My expression scrunches.
“Oh, here she goes.” Holland waves her glass over her head. “There’s no stopping her now.”
“Stopping what?” My attention flicks between the two of them.
“The topic of kink,” Kennedy answers with a gleam as she produces her phone from the depths of the blanket.
“I’m gonna need more alcohol.” Holland tips back her head, her eyes on the darkening sky.
“Drama student.” Kennedy rolls her eyes. “Anyway, pool peeing is not on Cosmo’s list.”
“Oh, it’s a Cosmopolitan magazine article, is it?” I sometimes forget Holland and Kennedy are in their twenties. I also sometimes (conveniently) forget I’m not.
Her eyes glued to her phone, Kennedy scrolls through goodness knows what. “Wanting to pee on people or wanting people to pee on you, that one’s here.”
“The list isn’t alphabetical, then? Water sports would be toward the end.”
“Lady Isla!” Holland admonishes, pinging straight like a jack-in-the-box. “I am shocked!”
“I can’t think why. I’ve been around a long time. In fact, I’m practically ancient.”
“Please,” Holland scoffs. “You’re a total babe.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
“A knowledgeable babe.”
“Academic knowledge,” I hedge, trying hard not to think of Niko and the things he’s introduced me to. “You see, we have these things we have in Scotland. Square boxes with moving pictures. I’m not sure if you’re familiar, but they can make a person a bit of a voyeur.”
“That’s here in the ‘A to Z of Kink,’ too.” Kennedy brandishes her phone. “V is for voyeurism. Someone who gains sexual pleasure by watching others get it on,” she adds as she does a little punching dance.
“That’s not my cup of tea at all. I think I’d feel a little left out.”
“Wouldn’t it be just like watching porn?” Holland asks.
“Inasmuch as you’re not physically involved yet you still get off?”
“You crack me up,” she says with a cackle and a slap to my knee.
“I’m not into being a masochist, thank you very much.” This I offer primly as I remove her hand, making both women laugh.
“I don’t know,” Holland singsongs. “A little light spanking can be fun.”
“I is for impact play,” Kennedy adds before I can complain.
“Can I get a testify!” Holland calls, suddenly embodying a Southern Baptist minister.
“I really don’t want to know what you and my brother get up to in the privacy of your own rooms.”
“Or the public rooms,” Kennedy adds heavily.
“You’ll give our elderly visitors a heart attack.”
“Tell that to your brother,” Holland replies, pink with giggles.
“You tell him. Develop a dominant streak. Tell him you’ll spank his bottom if he doesn’t stop.” Holland’s giggles turn to a gurgle. “How many drinks are you ahead?”