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“Yeah, yeah, I’m a celery stick.”
Rhea felt bad enough about outing her wife’s crush that she said, “I’ll go next. Who wants to guess my fake secret?”
Before anyone else had the chance, Paige volunteered. “Nobody knows you as well as I do, right?” she quipped.
Rhea wasn’t opposed to her wife throwing tit-for-tat. Considering how different their marriage was these days, she was willing to hear Paige’s perception of how things were going.
She wasn’t quite prepared for what soon came out of her wife’s mouth.
“You are a terrible swimmer for having grown up in Malibu,” she led with, “you have slept with at leasttwopeople sitting across from us, and…” Rhea already dreaded this. “You’ve got a dirty mind, but you’ve written at least… I dunno… five filthy sex stories.”
Rhea wondered what gave her away. Was it the sudden jerk of her shoulders, or the paling of her face? Because the only thing worse than blushing every five seconds was being so scandalized that she turned pasty vampire white.
“Uh…” Jocie coughed through her disbelief. “I have a feeling thatallof those are true.”
“What?” Paige laughed. “Rhea doesn’t write smut.”
Loren, who didn’t defend herself against accusations of having slept with Rhea before, raised both of her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she had. Lots of sexual tension in those books she’s written.”
“What?” This time, Rhea said it. “What are you talking about? My books are tame!”
Maya spoke up. “Trust me, as a romance reader, you don’t have to write about sex for it to drip from every page.”
“You agree with her?”
“Did Paige ghostwrite that book about the angry housewife you write?” Jocie asked. “Because that was like the most sexually frustrated book I’veeverread on a plane.”
“Rhea…” Paige slowly turned toward her wife. “Are you writing dirty stories?”
“I haven’t told anyone except my editor.”And Roxy.Roxy wasn’t here!
Everyone was laughing, including Paige.I’m glad this is amusing because I want to die.Was Loren still offering to kill people? Because Rhea was happy to go first.
“When do we get a live reading?” Paige asked.
As if she sensed Rhea’s discomfort, Jocie reached into her bag and unveiled what was beneath the false bottom where she kept her wallet and whatever she thought she needed to party in Hellfire. “I’ve got a better question.” She pulled out a small Ziploc bag of brownies, except Rhea already knew those were no ordinary baked goods. “Who wants an edible?”
Loren was exasperated enough that she was definitely the most likely one to take the first bite. “You’re going to get us kicked out of here!”
“Sorry, next time I’ll bring us some blow for the bathroom if that makes you feel better. We could be like those fancy heiresses you know.”
Loren lightly shoved her girlfriend, who shoved her back before slamming the corner piece of the brownie into her hand.
“Eat it, Hamilton. God knows you need it.”
Rhea jumped forward and grabbed herself a piece as well. After what she and Paige exposed about one another, it was no wonder her wife was right behind her.
Except Paige took amuch largerbite. Rhea knew things were about to get interesting. Maybe too much so.
Chapter 22
Paigedidn’tknowwhatwas in Jocie’s brownie. All she knew was that shelovedit.
Oh, yeah, this is how you enjoy a party.Paige was high enough to feel like giddy liquid as she maneuvered through the crowd and danced with total strangers. Rhea sat on the sidelines, slightly slack-jawed as Paige cheered on someone in the dancing cage who had taken off everything but her underwear.
Rhea informed her that she was not getting any more alcohol.Honey, if you think this is booze doing the talking, you’re square.Paige hadn’t smoked or bitten an edible in way too long. Since when?No idea. Don’t care.
She knew Rhea walked down to the local dispensary every other month to stock up on “writing supplies,” as she called it. Whenever she was hit with writer’s block, she either lit up by the pool or snuck something out of the fridge. Preferably from the storage box marked “DON’T EAT!” As if that ever stopped Paige after a tough day at work. There were times when pot hit the spots alcohol couldn’t.
