Girl Crush(19)

I’d called in sick since I couldn’t get to work without calling a cab, and couldn’t pay for a cab because my purse—along with my clothes—were held hostage by the stinky Porsche. I assumed my cell phone was also somewhere in that mess, but thankfully, I was old-school and had been unwilling to give up my landline in case of emergencies. I thought it would be a natural disaster—although I could argue this was just that.

“Not the same, at all.” She flipped through the latest edition of Vogue, barely bothering to humor me. Thankfully, or maybe not so much, Veronica had come over after work.

“It certainly is. A girl has to crawl before she can walk.”

“Sounds like you were crawling last night...but my mouth was on bare skin with Donna Darnicks.”

“My mouth was on Roxie’s skin.” It had been—as I stared into Collier’s eyes and hit my peak, my teeth dug into her exposed shoulder.

“Biting her while staring at a guy isn’t the equivalent of a breast in the mouth.” Her nonchalance irritated me.

“Donna Darnicks didn’t have any breasts when we were twelve, which is why she let you go that far to begin with.”

“Still an erogenous zone. Call me when you have your first vagina encounter. Or hell, I’ll entertain this when you get fingered by a girl.”

“God, Ronnie, you act like I should be slutting it up.”

Her long fingers closed the magazine she hadn’t really been reading. And her face was masked with a devious grin. “You should be…with Collier. When are you going to stop acting like you’re Cuntzilla on the prowl and go back to what you know?”

My tone changed. I hadn’t been able to articulate my point, because in Ronnie’s mind, until I ate the pink truffle, nothing I did counted. “I really liked her, V. Roxie was a ton of fun to hang out with.”

“Yeah. Beck was too until she showed you her goods. Being heterosexual isn’t the end of the world, Gizzy. It’s just who you are.”

“You’ll see.”

She dismissed my feelings as quickly as she’d negated my experience. “Look, I’m still on Trish’s shit list so I can’t stay out. Do you want me to take you to get your car?”

We rode in silence, and when I got out of the car, she leaned over before I closed the door. “Sorry, Gizzy. If you like this girl, then go out with her again. Just make sure you don’t hurt her in the process.”

“Bye, V.”

With my spare key in hand, I got into the Camaro and breathed a sigh of relief to see my cell phone sitting in my cup holder and not in the floorboard of Collier’s 911. I’d felt like I was missing a limb without it and had no idea when I’d get my stuff back from Collier. Sadly, I had determined I’d rather cancel my credit cards and buy a new purse than face him again.

Something about the purr of the engine always relaxed me instantly, and this time was no different. Music filled the air as I cleared out emails and listened to voice messages. There were multiple texts from Ronnie last night, and then Beck and Roxie today. I shot Roxie a reply telling her how much I enjoyed our date, and we made plans to hang out this weekend. And just before I pulled out, I called Beck, who was bored and lying out by her brother’s pool in what remained of the sun.

“Come over.” Whining didn’t sound good on anyone but me.

I assumed she had no idea I’d been there last night, or that I’d puked in her brother’s car this morning, but I couldn’t risk a run-in. “I’m just going to go home. I was out late and need to get some sleep. I can’t miss work again tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, how’d your date go?”

When I began to tell her the details, she stopped me twice, trying to persuade me once more to stop by and give her the lowdown then. “I don’t think your brother really likes it when I show up, Beck.”

“Who cares? He’s not here. He had some business shindig in the city. He told me he wouldn’t be home until late. So I think it’s safe to say that would not be six o’clock in the afternoon.”

“I don’t have a suit.”

“You can borrow one of mine. I’ll see you in ten.” She hung up before I could voice any further objection, and I turned my car toward the West mansion.

Beck met me at the front door with a pitiful excuse for a swimsuit in hand. She led me to the first bedroom downstairs, the same one I’d stayed in last night, to change. I hadn’t expected her to flop down onto the bed that someone had made since I was last here, while I stripped, but I figured this would be good practice for the real thing. My shirt came over my head, and I shimmied out of my shorts and panties. When I dropped my bra on the pile at my feet, she sat straight up. I might be thirty-nine, but I worked hard to keep my body in the shape of a twenty-five-year-old. Other than wine, I didn’t partake of any indulgences—including carbs. And I ran every morning…well, except this morning because I was otherwise preoccupied, but any other morning, I didn’t go anywhere until I logged five miles on the pavement.

“Damn, Giselle.”

She had a girlfriend, and I didn’t need her to elaborate. There was a difference in women who were naturally slender, which Beck was, and women like me who worked out to stay that way. Where all Beck’s angles were rounder, softer, my muscles were defined, not like a body builder, but like a runner. I looked lean, not skinny, and I was proud of it.