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Part One
Cee
One
I looked in the mirror at my friend, Mish, and myself. She wore black skinny jeans with a red tank and denim jacket. I wore a slightly more scandalous outfit: a short, tight, black leather skirt and a blue crop top. Mish, short for Michelle, wore flats, and I wore sky-high red stilettos. I rarely got to go out, never mind going to a concert. Therefore, I was donning my sluttiest clothes and making the most of this night out.
“I can see your ass cheeks,” my sister, Elle, commented. She fell on the more conservative side, while I was strongly the opposite. Last night, she tried going to a concert with Mish wearing office attire. Who is she to be giving out fashion advice?
“Good. Mish may not want to get laid, but I do,” I replied. Elle and Mish were at the Boston concert for Flight of the Dogs last night, while I hung back with Wyatt, my two-year-old. A product of past poor decisions, but I loved him with everything I had. Tonight, my sister was babysitting, so Mish and I could hit up the Hartford show.
“Not like we’re hanging out with the band, Cee. You’re just going to pick up some random in Hartford and bang him?” Mish pointed out.
Last night they had backstage passes, but unfortunately, we didn’t tonight. Mish had a close encounter with the lead singer, Connor, of the spit-swapping variety. I wanted some of that action.
Shrugging, I said, “Probably. A girl’s gotta do some shady shit sometimes, Mish.”
“You wouldn’t have to do shady shit if you would pull your head out of your ass and fuck Elijah already,” Mish countered.
My body flushed. Elijah was my best friend. We were very platonic, though Mish and Elle told anyone who would listen he wanted more.
“She has a point, baby sister. I can’t believe he hasn’t gone all cave-dweller on you and thrown you into bed at this point,” Elle chimed in.
“Men and women can be just friends,” I retorted, trying to deflect this line of conversation. Eli was off-limits because I put him there. He didn’t need my brand of shit and deserved far more than I could ever provide. I was a sub-par friend, and I’d make an even worse girlfriend.
“Of course they can. But he doesn’t want to be your friend,” Elle added, raising a suggestive eyebrow.
I snorted. “Why would I fuck up our friendship with sex, Elle? I can’t give him what he wants. A casual fuck on the rare occasion I don’t have a kid attached to my hip is all I have to offer.”
“Mason and I fuck sometimes; we’re friends.” She shrugged.
“You and Mason will be married someday, Elle. I hope you can fuck him. How else would you give dad his precious Davis grandkids?”
Our parents and Mason's arranged for the pair to be married before I was born. Our father was governor of Massachusetts, and his was the Vice President. His father and mine have grand delusions about a political empire that made me happy to be disowned after my out-of-wedlock baby was born. What I said bordered on being out of line, but Elle knew I thought the whole thing was bullshit and she should just live her own life.
I sighed. “I’m not marrying Eli, so no sense fucking up a perfectly functioning friendship.”
Twenty minutes later, we hopped into Mish’s car and headed for Hartford.
Admittedly, I was bouncing in my shoes as we made our way into the venue. Our seats were to the side of the stage, but not far back. We were early — I’m always early, although most mothers of toddlers were notoriously late — so we grabbed a couple of drinks from the concession area and hung out in our seats. We were deep into watching some TikTok videos on my phone when I heard someone call out Mish’s name.
Looking up, I saw a beautiful woman racing towards us, a cup of beer in her hand. “There you are! I thought this would be a harder mission.” She planted herself in the seat next to Mish.
“You were looking for me?” Mish asked in surprise.
The woman winked. “Of course. Never got to make out with you last night.”
A light bulb went off. Mish and Elle spent the morning talking about Connor’s sister and how Mish had a crush on her. “Oh, you must be Jo!”
“And who is this gorgeous woman you’ve brought tonight?” Jo looked me up and down.
Mish provided introductions. “Jo, meet my friend Catherine. We call her Cee. Cee, meet Joanna.”
I shook Jo’s hand in greeting.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Jo said, standing and trying to pull Mish out of her seat.
“Where are we going?”
