“OKAY. SPILL,” SAM SAYSthrough a mouthful of fried food.
The two of us are sitting in a back booth at the extremely busy Galaxy Diner, less than a block from work. Over the last half hour, I’ve watched my best friend down something called a Nuclear Waste Dog, slathered in salsa and chili, cheese, sauerkraut, and several other entirely unnecessary things. She’s now plowing her way through our shared Tater Tot basket and guzzling a milkshake while awaiting the fried OREOs she ordered for dessert.
“Spill what?” I reply without meeting her look.
“What’s going on with you andWork Daddy?”
I almost choke on the bite of hoagie I’ve just taken, hunch, and look around to make sure no one we know happens to be sitting in a neighboring booth. “Shhhh! Are you kidding me right now? You can’t say that this close to the office.”
“Oh my god. I’m right, aren’t I? You and Work Daddy are banging.”
“We are not!”
“And yet your reaction could not be more suspicious.” Of course Sam knows I’m hiding something. She knows everything about me, from my star sign to the way I always hiccup after myfirst sip of soda. “Am I gonna have to flog it out of you? I could use one of those cat tails.”
“A cat-o’-nine-tails? Do you even know what that is?” I take another bite, studiously concentrating on my hoagie’s crisp outside and melty middle.
“It’s a hairy whip.”
I set the rest of my sandwich down, working hard to calm my oversensitive gag reflex. “Gross, Sam.”
“A wig on a stick.”
“Shut up. No. It’s a whip with, like, a bunch of thin strips of leather.”
She pulls out her phone and searches. “Hm. Okay. Kinda mop-like.” Nodding, eyes still down, she asks, “You see any of that at the sex club on Friday? With Work Daddy?”
“No! And it’s not a sex club. It’s a BDSM club. Also, he wasn’t…” I let it trail off, unable to finish the lie.
“Aha! You did see him there! I knew it! You two totally recognized each other yesterday, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Oh my goddess, you crashing into him like… Wait.” She bends close, her dark eyes huge. “You called himsir. You never call peoplesir. Shit, Rae. He’s your daddy!” Her voice, which has gone from zero to a million decibels, is starting to attract looks.
“Stop it. Shush. Please. Come on!” I whisper, patting the air to get her to quiet. “I’ve got to go back and work in the same room as him, okay? It’s been tense.” And we haven’t even made it through Tuesday.
“Tell me everything.”
My head lowered, I whisper, “Yes. He was the Dom I mentioned.”
“Guess the cat-o’-nine-tails is out of the bag!”
“Please, Sam, just keep it down.”
“This is amazing. What, was he, like, all done up in leather?Oh, sweet Jesus, does he wear chaps and stuff? Butt hanging out? No. No, no, please tell me you’ve seen his wanger. Please. I just wanna—”
“Stop. Now. I can’t.” I point at myself. “HR manager, remember? It’s inappropriate and unprofessional and—”
“OREOs!” our waiter announces as he sets the plate down with a flourish and takes off for another table.
As the smell of deep-fried batter wafts my way, I sit up and say, “Listen. I’ll explain, but you cannot mention this. At all. To him, to Dorothy, to anyone. Okay?”
“O ye of little faith.” She shoves a huge bite of deep-fried, oozing cookie into her mouth, shaking her head at me in that disappointed way she has. “When have I ever let a secret out?”
Actually, never. She’s good like that. A vault. Otty told Sam about losing her virginity the day after it happened, and she never once mentioned it to me. I didn’t find out for ages. I’m still kind of peeved that my sister told my best friend something that vital, and she never once gave so much as a hint. In the end, Hannah’s the one who spilled the beans. To this day, I don’t get why I was left out of the loop. Honestly, it still hurts.
“Speaking of secrets.” I eye Sam, that hurt squiggling in my stomach. “You still haven’t told me what’s going on with you.”
Her eyes go round with fake innocence. “Eee?” she says around a mouthful.
“Don’t even try it, Samantha. You’ve got a hickey right there.”
