LOVE ‘EM(5)

“Who’s going to buy a book on how to catch and keep their man from a woman who isn’t confident enough to say that she can keep her man enthralled enough that he’ll turn down the opportunity to go at it with a blonde dressed like a prostitute?”

“Prosti…” Shayna looks down at her outfit and giggles. “Yeah, I guess I am kind of dressed to head down to the boulevard and hawk my ample wares.”

She shimmies her tits in her too tight black leather jacket. “Day-umn. I didn’t even get the big O from that one. How about you?”

“What?”

She makes no sense to me sometimes.

Shay extricates herself from her other boot. “I mean, Jackson Tremaine fucked us both, and good.”

“I guess he did.” I drop into the chair adjacent to hers. “It’s not exactly like we can bail—not now that the entire country is waiting to see which one wins.”

She side-eyes me. “We could tell Jackson to fuck off, and dust off our hands and move on.”

I let out a weary breath. “No. We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because millions, if not billions, of people saw us on that show. You’re fine if you bow out. You’ll continue to do your thing. But me? If I back out, I’m screwed six ways to Sunday.”

She rubs the teensy crease between her brows. “Aw, c’mon, Rons. Your book’s success isn’t completely dependent on Jackson Tremaine’s show. You just don’t want to rock the boat.”

“Rock what boat?”

“The boat where everyone does what’s expected and no one does what they shouldn’t. The viewers expect you to be part of this bet. You’ll do it, if for no other reason than that you’re afraid to break the rules.”

I huff. “What rules? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Girl, you’ll fall in line behind whatever perceived rule there is in any given situation. I hate to break it to you, but you, my friend, are a goody two-shoes. In your mind, there’s some invisible rule that states the gauntlet has been thrown. Therefore, you must meet the challenge.”

Goody two-shoes? Gauntlet?

“I break plenty of rules, thank you. It’s only that I happen to know this particular thing can sink my career faster than the Titanic went down. I’ve worked too hard for that to happen.”

Shay cast a skeptical glance at me. “What rules have you broken lately?”

The answer eludes me. I search through my recent memory. Nada.

I scratch my head. “I—I don’t know. Who keeps a journal of broken rules? Just… ugh, stop already. We have to do this bet.”

“Oh whatever. I’ll do it, because you’re my friend, and I’d cut off my right arm for you—that’s my masturbation hand, just so we’re clear about what I’d be giving up.”

Only Shay would point that out.

I can’t help but smile. “At least this way only one of us will be screwed.”

“Well, if I’m the one who loses, please make sure you throw me a pittance when you see me lying outside your gate with my tin cup.” She unpins her wig.

When she shakes her red hair down her back, it cascades like a waterfall. The slight wave in it is probably there from being rolled up under her Marilyn get-up. It’s moments like this that I hate her.

“I’d almost kill to have your hair,” I lament for the umpteenth time.

She shrugs. “Well, I would kill to have your curls. So you’d best sleep with one eye open, bitch.”

Shay’s African Gray whistles and squawks in the living room. “Bitch. Who you callin’ bitch?”





TWO





The morning sun pours through the windows as I rinse the last cup and set it on the rack. “Yes, Gee-Gee, it was very interesting to be on television.”

My grandmother laughs on the other end of the line. “And that handsome devil, Jackson. Is he really as much of a hunk in person as he seems on TV?”

Hunk? I smile. He’s more of a hunk. “Well, he’s not ugly.”

“And the way you fell into him—brilliant! Did you get to brush against his naughty parts?”

I swear she delights in shocking people with the things she says. “You’re naughty, Gee-Gee. And I tripped. I don’t go around feeling men up at every opportunity.”

“You should. Life’s too short. If I had it to do over again, I’d spend way less time worrying about what other people think and have a good time. You need to enjoy life, Ronnie.”

I let out a little sigh. “I wasn’t there for a good time. I was there to try to sell books.”

“If a good time doesn’t present itself, make your own. No matter the situation.”