You've Got Fail(43)

“Yeah, man. They said Scorsese is doing a reboot of The Godfather. They’re looking at me for Sonny.”

Willis’s eyes widened. “They hit us—”

“So we hit ‘em back!” Jason and Willis finished in unison.

I sipped my wine and eyed them.

Willis fist bumped Jason, then turned to me. “The Godfather, remember that line?”

“Never seen it.”

Jason clutched his chest. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” I shrugged. “Watching old mobster movies isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list.”

“This is untenable.” Willis shook his head. “It cannot stand.” He took another swig of his beer, his index finger looped around the top of the bottle in that oddly masculine way.

“It’s just a movie.”

Jason and Willis both gaped at me.

“We have to fix this.” Jason downed his beer and ordered another. “Tell you what. Once this party is over, we’re heading to my place.”

“Eighty-five inches.” Willis’s eyes glossed over.

“Yeah, man. Eighty-five inches of Godfather.”

“You two stopped speaking English.” I sipped my wine.

“It’s the size of his—”

“Todd.” I forced a smile as Todd approached, just as eager as ever to talk to me.

“I was hoping you’d be here.” He sidled up to me.

Jason and Willis shared a dark look.

“We were just going to check out the hors d’oeuvre table.” I stepped away from him, but his voice stopped me.

“Actually, I had a question for the famous Scarlet Rocket. About relationships.”

Willis snorted. “I can answer it for you. No, Todd, you can’t suck your own dick and call your mouth a serious girlfriend.”

Jason laughed, a full-throated roar that silenced the bystanders. We’d only been here for fifteen minutes and had already veered into “making a scene” territory. Seemed to be a common occurrence when we got together at fancy parties.

Todd looked like he’d swallowed something sour. “Very funny.”

“Thanks. I’ll be here all week.” Willis wrapped his arm around my waist for emphasis.

“My question for Scarlet was, how does an attractive, young, and hardworking guy get a date with a beautiful redhead?”

Before Willis could respond with an answer that I suspected might end in a fistfight, I said, “The quickest way to get a woman’s attention is to be fluent in the things she cares about.” I mentally ticked off that bullet point from the list Willis had given me.

“So, what do you care about?” Todd asked.

Willis remained silent, and all three men looked at me expectantly.

“I care about, um. Well…” I hadn’t cared about much lately except my sister and getting out of trouble. Until I met Willis, and then I started caring about something far more dangerous than even Pauly. I tapped my fingers on my wine glass. “The two most important things in life, jewelry and travel.”

Willis scowled, the lie obvious to him.

Todd, on the other hand, grinned big. “You a Tiffany’s girl?”

“Of course.” I drained my glass and reached for another.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

A woman elbowed her way through the crowd and perched at the edge of our circle, her eyes on me.

I took the opportunity to pass the spotlight. “Hi, I’m Scarlet.”

“I know.” She stepped closer. “I was hoping you could give me some advice?”

“Sure.” I turned away from Todd and focused on the woman. She was mid-fifties, dark hair, and big blue eyes—like the 1980s Liz Taylor. Not in Scarlet’s demographic, but I was game for anything if it took the heat off me. “What can I help with?”

“I was reviewing your website last week. There was a question and answer of particular interest to me.” Her voice had a brittle edge to it, and wariness crept up my spine.

“All right. Which post was it?”

“The question was by SquirtingSarah.”

Some quiet laughter erupted around us, and Willis’s arm slid from my back.

“I’m sorry, but I get so many questions. Could you give me a little more to go on?”

“Sure. Sarah wrote in and asked your advice on whether she should tell her boyfriend’s wife about the affair. She described the handsome, gallant, wonderful, married man she met at work.” Venom dripped from her words as she continued. “Then went into some explicit detail about how he’d given her the ‘SquirtingSarah’ nickname. Her goal was to split up the marriage and get the man for herself, so she figured telling the wife was the quickest way to make that happen.”

I was at a complete loss, and Willis had edged away as the woman was talking. “I, well that sounds like—”

“My question is, where do you get off advising someone to continue having a relationship with a married man?”

My phone vibrated and began to ring in my bag. “Excuse me.” I pulled my phone out and saw Sparky’s name. “It’s my babysitter. Two seconds.”

“Hi, Connie?” I answered the phone and darted away. “Oh my god, help me,” I hissed.