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“I watched the clip earlier. It’s the one of Pinkie, Erma, and Willa Mae singing “You Don’t Own Me” fromThe Ex-Wives Club, amiright?”
“That’s the one. It took me a few days to convince them that shorter was better. For some reason they thought they were getting a full-length documentary, and I had a hard time explaining that a TikTok video lasted no more than fifteen to twenty seconds.”
“You know, it’s gone viral,” Penelope said, chewing the end of her cocktail stirrer.
Birdie’s eyes went wide. “What? No.”
“Yeah, when I pulled it up, it had over ten thousand views.”
Birdie reared back her head. “That’s impossible, I just uploaded it a couple of hours ago,” she said, pulling her phone from her purse.
Mia had helped her edit the clip, and they were just happy to get it up and viewable. She had to admit, it was a hysterical fifteen-seconds. A comedic take of the song where the elderly women danced and gyrated with some impressive intensity for women their age. But viral?
Penelope turned her phone facing Birdie and sure enough, it was up to fifty thousand views.
“That’s crazy,” Birdie said, with a laugh, shaking her head.
Penelope continued to chew on her straw and then laid it to the side, and said, “Can I tell you something?”
Birdie began to fiddle with the napkin in front of her. “I guess.”
Here it comes. This couldn’t be good. This was where she threatened her with her life. Telling her she was laying claim to Lucas and to back off. Maybe pull out a shiv from her awesome authentic bag.
“I’m totally Team Birdie.”
“Team Birdie?”
Penelope nodded. “I hope you get back with Lucas.”
Birdie paused her drink with pinched eyebrows. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because every woman should be made love to by a man like Lucas Santos.”
Birdie could certainly agree with that.
Penelope said dreamily. “I mean, he’s so slow and caring and thorough,”
Slow? Caring? Thorough was accurate, but two out of the three werewayoff base.
Penelope drained her drink, waving the bartender for another. “I mean, the time he takes, the patience and tenderness. The way he makes you feel like there’s no other woman in the world but you. Amiright?”
Birdie nodded, her drink paused an inch from her mouth. “Um, yeah, totally. He’s… super tender.”
Was this flawless skinned woman messing with her?
Lucas Santos wasn’t patient or tender and he certainly wasn’t caring. He had ravaged her. Bossed her around. Was domineering and impatient.
Good God, hespankedher.
Hard.
Penelope all but purred, and then, as if realizing she was making a spectacle of herself, chuckled and said, “Sorry, I’m dating a guy from Jacksonville, and he’s really great. But in bed, he’s nothing like Lucas. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi, and let you know I’m over him and I’ve moved on. But you go, girl,” she said, poking her in the arm conspiratorially. “… and get you some Lucas Santos while you can.”
“I… sure will,” she replied, awkwardly poking her back. “You know, get all that… slow, tender loving.”
Lucas’s ex-fiancée’s face brightened as she looked over Birdie’s shoulder and waved at a man who had just walked in the bar, saying her goodbyes and making her way to him.
Birdie sat there, stunned. Why didn’t she get the Santos Special? Why did he order her to strip for him and then come at her like a bossy bull in heat? Screwing her on indiscriminate furniture instead of wooing her and taking her to his bed.
