“That won’t be for another month or two, will it?”
“I imagine he’ll be back and forth all the time,” Gordon said.
“We’re not actually a couple.”
“Sure, but he’ll have ties to the town. He bought the Veiner cottage.”
“He did what?” The Veiner cabin was a historical site at the edge of town, between Beaverdale and Dragonfly Lake. It had belonged to the town’s founding father, Leonodis Veiner. Our main street had been named after him until 1942, when my great-grandfather accidentally renamed it Leonardo Street. This all caused a bit of a scandal that resulted in several properties being zoned historical sites, including the cabin.
Gordon explained that his girlfriend was the real estate agent who’d brokered the deal with Dalton to buy the cabin.
I stammered, “But that cabin is falling apart. Does it even have running water?”
Gordon waggled his eyebrows. “You’ll see. I hear it’s very romantic.”
“We’re not together. We’re just friends.”
“Friends with benefits?”
“Gross, Gordon. You’re my boss. I’m not discussing it with you. We have a highly professional relationship.”
He laughed, because over the years, we’d enjoyed a number of lengthy chats about… well, everything. After a bottle of ice wine, I’d given him oral sex pointers, complete with a diagram drawn on a napkin. For years, the poor guy had been trying to use his tongue for penetration only. After that talk, he’d expanded the store’s selection of sexuality books. “See, books open new worlds, and knowledge is power,” I’d teased him when he’d reported back to me that his divorcee at the time was a satisfied customer.
But enough about Gordon’s sex life.
I had a date that night with Adrian.
The day passed quickly, and I locked up right on time. I was buzzing with excitement as I picked up groceries after work and hurried home to start cooking.
Shayla swung by the house on a break from her job to help me get everything ready.
“I’m ashamed of how much I’m enjoying this,” she admitted as she set the table. She knew all about Adrian dating both me and Golden, having heard from both girls. “This is like one of those dating shows, but in real life, and I have an all-access pass.”
“Remember the rules,” I said. “No telling the other contestant.”
When I’d informed her about Adrian’s plans to date both me and Golden, I thought she’d try to talk me out of it, but she was too fascinated. As friend to all three of us, she was in the unique position of getting to know everything. Like some omniscient being. She actually rubbed her hands together in excitement. I asked if she wanted to book herself into the rotation, but she declined. (Not that Shayla would go after a guy I was interested in, anyway. Her loyalty to me overrode any lust, which is one of the many reasons I love her and would give her a kidney without hesitation, whether she needed one or not.)
I asked her, “Speaking of kissing and telling, who or what did you have in your bed that night I heard you singing the O song?”
“Don’t burn the lemon sauce,” she said, changing the topic.
“You’d better not be zooming your boss again.”
She smirked. “Oh, I’m not.”
We tidied up the kitchen as best we could, since our only table was also in that room.
The doorbell rang, and I got so nervous all of a sudden, my legs actually quaked.
Shayla ran out the door, car keys in hand, telling Adrian not to do anything she wouldn’t do. She disappeared, leaving the two of us alone for our date.
Adrian whipped out some flowers from behind his back and handed them to me. The tag showed them as being from Gabriella’s, the fancy florist, and the bouquet was a small but exotic blend of flowers that weren’t orchids.
“Please, come in,” I said. “I’m glad these aren’t cut orchids or both of our mothers would be mad.”
He chuckled. “Those orchid nuts.”
Adrian stepped over the threshold, a drip of sweat running off the side of his brow. Was he feeling guilty about our open arrangement, nervous to see me, or had he rushed to get there? I started to ask, but he gave me an awkward kiss immediately, his lips brushing my nose and landing on my chin as I turned.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I pulled out my phone to take a photo of the pretty flowers. “For my mother,” I explained.
He grinned. “I already sent a picture to my mom.”
“Hey! We’re Bodwives* buddies.”
*Bodwives is a modified version of the acronym for the Beaverdale Orchid and Dandelion Wine Society, which both of our mothers were part of.