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Meegan could tell Daniel anything. She’d never forget all the time she’d spent with him after his surgeries to help heal the amputation site on his right arm. He’d been there for her when her mom stared down cancer. All the time they’d spent fucking and being fucked, together. They were just subs in crime, but in the back of her mind Meegan thought he’d be the one for her when the time came.
She’d turned neon green with envy when Daniel started seeing Keira. She’d gotten more than one firm talking to from Mistress Evelyn about how she needed to be happy for Daniel and kind to Keira, but the lectures were unnecessary. She quickly saw how good they were together. And not long after they got married and Keira settled more firmly into the lifestyle, she became more comfortable with sharing Daniel and Daniel with sharing Keira. It wasn’t an all-the-time thing, but Meegan still had her fun with the two of them, together. Then, Keira and Shae got kinda absorbed into Meegan’s everyday friend group. They had good boundaries, but fuck, Daniel was still one of the hottest men she had ever seen.
“I’m just trying to do my part with all this candy,” Meegan replied, holding up her little Milky Ways.
“Shit, take more than that.” Daniel came around the island and pulled her close with his left arm before he kissed her on the forehead. She fought the urge to let out a breathy sigh as he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You wanna stay over tonight?”
She hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Keira, who was trying her best to shove a few packets of Skittles into Xeni’s hands. Meegan knew they’d talked it over long before she’d gotten in her car to drive over. “Let me think about it, yeah?”
“Of course. It’s been a few weeks. We miss you.”
Meegan scrunched her nose up at him and tried not to melt when he winked back at her.
“Have you talked to Marcos lately?” Daniel asked and a fresh, sour feeling settled in her stomach. She tried not to wince.
“I haven’t. I need to call him.”
“He was asking about you on Saturday. I told him you were still taking a little break.”
Mistress Evelyn and Master Philip had started The Club decades ago and now it was under Daniel and Keira’s ownership and care. Marcos didn’t work, thanks to his extremely wealthy Greek grandparents who owned like half the world’s tomatoes or something equally weird, so he didn’t keep normal human hours. It just made more sense for Meegan to see him at The Club, but since she hadn’t been to The Club…
“I’ll text him.”
“Good. He misses you too,” Daniel said. He gently rubbed her neck, easing that sour feeling away.
“Someone please take this. I have to pee so bad,” a very pregnant Shae said as she came barrelling into the kitchen. She shoved a huge cake carrier into Xeni’s chest.
“Is that a whole cake?” Meegan asked as Shae pushed past her and Daniel, bolting straight for the powder room.
“Yes, a whole fucking peanut butter fucking fudge cake that a customer cancelled last minute and I’m keeping every cent of that deposit. Excuse me, gotta pee. Gotta pee! Gotta pee!”
“I think she has to pee,” Daniel joked. “I’ll get some plates.”
While Shae was peeing, Erica, Joanna and Sarah arrived. Their other friend Sloan had to perform surgery in the morning, but she texted saying she would see them again soon. And, she would. She was a busy working mom, but Sloan always got her girl time in, as long as they came to her house. That was fine with Meegan because Sloan and her husband, Rafe, had a pool.
They filled up their plates with cake and their glasses with champagne—sparkling cider for Shae—and piled onto the couch for someMatch Made In Paradise Australia. Daniel excused himself because, while he was a warm and welcoming host, dating reality shows were not his thing.
There were still a good twenty minutes left when Meegan started to fade. The Australian singles and their budding romances were downright adorable, but it had been a long day. Instead of nodding off on Xeni’s shoulder, she picked up her phone and looked up Olin Breivik.
She had a vague idea of what he looked like in the back of her mind, but she’d neverlookedat him. He seemed tall, slender, kinda lanky. He had brown hair, swept in a part over his forehead and a super cute face. Not hot. Cute. He had these brown puppy dog eyes that tilted down at the corners. In a few pictures he was clean shaven, in others he had a hint of a mustache and a faint goatee on his chin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a guy rocking a goatee. Still, it worked for Olin, reminding you that despite all his boyish features, he was definitely a grown man. Meegan checked his wiki page. There was almost no personal information, but it did say he was thirty-seven, just a couple years older than her.
“He’s a cutie,” Xeni said quietly from her spot next to Meegan.
“Mhmm.” Meegan tilted her head to the side like that would do something to the picture at the top of his profile. She googled some more and couldn’t find anything weird. Everything she read had to do with leaving his company, his political involvement and charity work. More pictures. Standing on a beach. Hiking trails up north. At some opera function. She couldn’t find a single one of him smiling. Not a problem, just interesting. At least he had nice lips. Thank God. She squinted at a picture of him in a tux, trying to think what he would look like with a beard. Not that it mattered.
“Yeah, gimme his number.”
It took Xeni a second to airdrop the contact. Meegan didn’t see a point in waiting. She sent Olin Breivik a text.
three
Olin adjusted his sunglasses and waited for Michael to take his shot. Olin had neutral feelings about golf, but he liked playing with Duke because he didn’t take it seriously. Too bad Duke had bailed. He only had two days in LA before they moved on to Vegas and while they usually linked up when he was in town, Duke had some meetings and he had to go see his mom. So Olin was stuck walking the Sunny Hills Country Club with bicoastal billionaire Michael Bradbury. Michael didn’t take the game seriously, per se, but he always wanted to play through. He called it his thinking time.
“Today, grandpa,” Olin said.
“Someone asked me if I was Brayden’s grandfather the other day,” Michael said just before chipping the ball a stroke closer to the seventh hole.
“Did you horrify them with the fact that your Cialis sperm produced children?” Olin asked. Although Michael was a few years younger than Olin’s dad, the first time they’d sat next to each other courtside at a Lakers game, Olin felt like they were reenacting a scene from the dumb movieStep Brothers, but like a quiet version. Michael wasn’t into unnecessary small talk and he was a good dude. He claimed his wife, Kayla, who was only thirty-three, kept him young. That was just Michael’s energy and made them instant friends.
