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I’d done that all by myself earlier. No makeup needed.
“Tell me all about it,” she continued on a sigh. “Especially if it involves Maverick James, that gorgeous piece of man meat.”
“How do you know–”
“I looked him up online after I talked to Jemma.”
Of course she had. She wasn’t lying about him, except– “If you want me to get to the bar on time, or anytime tonight, I need to finish the quiz.”
It was the only way I could think of to get her to stop talking about him. Talk about a guy making me nervous and uncomfortable.
She and I had watched the Sixteen Candles two weeks ago and she decided that making a sex quiz–like in the movie–and sharing answers tonight with a bunch of girlfriends was happening.
“You haven’t finished it yet? Don’t tell me you’re still at work.”
“Fine, I won’t tell you.”
Another sigh came through the phone. “You need to take that Physics teacher job at the high school. You’d have your summer off like me.”
“Not all of us can teach first grade,” I countered.
“Whatever. I thought you were going to go home and change into the cute top.”
The cute top she was talking about was hanging in the back of my closet and never to appear. It was banished there as Mallory forced me to order it. It wasn’t something I ever planned on wearing. Not that it was over-the-top or inappropriate, it just wasn’t me. Or, it showed too much of me. I glanced down at myself. Jeans and a long-sleeved white t-shirt. Plain. Boring.
“The project is behind schedule,” I told her instead of continuing the conversation about why I didn’t want to wear the cute top. I was content being less seen. Blending in. The clusterfuck earlier today was an example of that. Being a woman on a huge construction site was bad enough. I didn’t want to look… good. I wanted to work and get on with my unexciting little life. “Besides the coffee spill, the framers are going to add a second crew,” I continued, pushing the point home that things were hectic. “The electrical team is on hold until next Thursday and my boss got fired.”
“Maverick James was fired?” she screeched.
Out of all the issues, she focused on that. “Not him. He’s the owner, remember. Maverick James as in James Corporation. My boss’s boss.”
“So your boss’s boss fired your boss?”
That had been a scene and I curled in on myself even remembering. I didn’t like confrontations and that had been a doozy. And about me. “Yes.”
“Good. That guy is a total sleaze.”
In the past, I’d shared with her how much of a dick the guy was. I was going to have a drink–or two–later to celebrate his departure and the spectacular way it was done.
“I’ll see you in a few at Kincaid’s,” I told her.
“Hell no,” she replied. I imagined her holding her hand up in front of her. “I’m not letting you off the phone until you finish the quiz and email it to me. Then you’ll drive your butt right to over here to the bar.”
I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, then back to the screen. “Fine.”
I set the cell to speaker mode and sat it on my desk so I could type with two hands.
To the number of partners question, I typed in 1.
It was a sad number at twenty-two and my prospects to change it weren’t on the horizon.
What’s the one thing you wish you got from your partners?
That was easy. Orgasms.
“I hear the keyboard clacking. I hope that means you’re doing the quiz and not some fancy math validating the vertical structural integrity of an I-beam.”
“Vertical structural integrity?” I asked, my fingers stilling. “What does that even mean?”
