“What’s his name?” Agatha asks, looking suspicious. I don’t take offense. It’s sort of her thing.
“Keeton Gustafson.” I watch as she clicks around on her phone.
“Whoa. Is this him?” she says with awe.
Turning the phone to face me, I nod. “That’s him, only his hair is short now.”
As she passes the phone around, I watch the reaction from each sister. It’s unanimous. They all think he’s hot too.
“Wait,” says Keely. “On the phone today you said, and I quote, ‘I’ve got a story to tell you that involves a hunky motorcycle guy, a mad-passionate kiss, and a job offer.’ She blinks at me then points at the phone. “You kissed this guy?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Why not? What did you mean by ‘a mad-passionate kiss’?” Agatha says with air quotes.
“BecauseIdidn’t kiss him.Hekissed me.” Now, that little nuance may not be significant to you, but it is to me and my sisters know that. They know everything––now. They didn’t for a long time, however. They believed I was in a normal marriage, albeit an unhappy one. None of them liked Lewis before Keely ran into him at the LGBTQ bar in Flagstaff. But, afterwards, they hated him, assuming he was lying and cheating on me. I’ll tell you more about the night the cat jumped out of the bag later. Right now, this is about me and my awesome day.
“So, he, what? Just grabbed you and kissed you?” Agatha thinks so analytically, I’m not surprised she doesn’t get it yet.
I nod. “Yeah. I was just standing there.” Standing there staring at his erection but they don’t need to know that. “He walked right up, put one hand on the back of my neck and the other one on my waist and pulled me closer, until I was right up against him. Then he kissed me, and it was like a kiss you read about in the best kind of romance. Hot.” After my explanation, I wait for someone to say something but they’re all silent, staring at me. “What?”
“Did you kiss him back?” Violet asks shyly.
I blush. Even in front of my sisters. “I did.”
They’re all still staring at me. Finally, Sadie breaks the silence. Setting her wine glass down, she asks. “Start over. At the beginning. Tell us everything.”
So, I do. I describe the scene like I’m writing about it––from the walk up to the building, to what I saw in the brag room, and then everything that happened in the office.
“Are you going to work for him?” Violet asks, her eyes as big as saucers.
“I don’t know.”
Clearing her throat, Agatha stands. “I’d like to say something.”
I nod.
“You know I’m not very romantic and stuff, right?”
“Right,” we all say in unison.
She scowls but continues. “I think you’d be doing yourself and your story a disservice if you didn’t take that job. You deserve some hot, sexy, romance, Lainie. Lewis was a manipulative jackass, something you didn’t ask for when you agreed to marry that guy––to be his beard.”
Since Keely discovered him all hot-and-heavy with his boyfriend at the club, they’ve all become very vocal about Lewis and my marriage.
I smile at Agatha. “Thanks, Aggie.”
“Here, here,” says Keely raising her wine glass. She stares at Sadie, who hasn’t moved. “I said. Here, here.”
Sadie points at her glass. “What? I’m empty. Fill ‘er up.”
Filling Sadie’s glass, Keely continues, “Seriously, girl, you need to take that job and get all up on that man. He’s going to rock your world.”
“Keely, geesh,” mumbles Violet. “You’re sort of asking Lainie to be something she’s not. Trampy.”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Keely smirks. “Lainie’s over thirty. She’s no longer in ‘trampy’ territory. She’s old enough to take what she wants because she wants it. No apologizes, sis. None whatsoever.” Once she’s done, she sips from her glass like she just solved everything. “Oh, and hey, where’s my car?”
Oh, crap. “Well, that’s another thing.” I tell them what happened in the parking lot, about them taking Keely’s vehicle and the loaner parked out at the curb in front of Dad’s.
