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Carrie merely snorts.
“Well, I’m not sure that’s what Concord Design is about because it’s been two years of this shit. I think they’re undervaluing us secretaries, but enough about that because it’s too depressing to talk about. How are you, girl?”
I smile.
“Things are good in New York. My lectures are interesting, my professors seem okay, and everything’s fine.”
But Carrie narrows her eyes at me.
“Wait, but you’re not telling me something,” she says in a crafty tone. “Didn’t you just get married? To that guy you were dating, Roland or something?”
Oh shit, news travels quick through the family grapevine, but evidently, Carrie hasn’t heard the latest development.
“Rolly and I tied the knot,” I acknowledge, “but actually, we decided that it was a mistake, and so we’re getting divorced now.”
Carrie merely raises an eyebrow and giggles.
“So soon?”
I nod ruefully.
“Yeah, it was bad. I know, I know. It was over in the blink of an eye, but now, I’ll have a fun tidbit about a starter marriage to share with my future grandkids! But how about you?” I say in a quick voice, hoping to deflect my cousin’s attention from my marital shenanigans. “What’s going on in Chicago?”
Carrie gets a reflective look on her pretty features for a moment.
“Well, since you’re asking…” she begins in a slow voice.
I immediately perk up on my dorm room bed, sensing something juicy.
“Oh my god, you’re dating someone right? Someone hot?”
My pretty cousin bites her lip but then smiles.
“Not exactly, although Idohave my eye on someone.”
I clap my hands with glee, bouncing up and down on the mattress. “Spill girl! I want to hear it!”
Carrie sighs then while her shoulders sag.
“I mean, he’s hot alright. I actually met him through friends of friends at a dinner party, and there were sparks. I mean, he felt up my pussy under the table,” she confides in a whisper through the screen.
I squeal with glee.
“And? So what happened?”
Carrie sits back then, a stumped look on her pretty features.
“Well, that’s the thing. Bruce never called afterwards, and so … well, I took it on myself to follow him.”
I jolt forwards on my bed, almost pressing my nose into my phone screen.
“So you were stalking him?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” my cousin says with a rueful smile. “I was able to figure out his address just from googling. I took a chance and I was following him one night, and well …”
“Well, what?” I probe breathlessly. “Oh my God, this sounds so crazy.”
“That’s because itiscrazy, cuzzie-wuzzie. I think the guy I like is using prostitutes,” she states in a matter-of-fact tone.
