Chapter 8
PETAL
“I am not wearing thong underpants. I won’t do it, Gilly.”
She waves the silky little scrap of fabric in my face like it will magically crawl up my ass crack on its own.
“Those things are nasty. And bad for your vag,” I say. “I don’t know how you two hos wear them.”
Lucy takes the thong from Gilly. “Oooh, this is nice. Very high quality. If you don’t want it, Petal, I’ll take it. And I’ll have you know, Petal, my vag is very healthy.”
Yeah, right.
Do I really need my friends to help me get ready for a date? It’s not like I’m fifteen years old or something. And yet, they insisted on coming over like this is my last chance to snag a guy, and that if this goes south, I’ll be alone forever.
Which, to be honest, would be fine with me. After the bullshit that went down with Andy, I’m happy to die an old maid.
My mother’s term. Not mine.
“Give me some more of that champers, will ya?” I ask, thrusting my champagne flute in Gilly’s direction.
She pours and the bubbles overflow. “Isn’t this stuff the best? At the club, we sell it for twelve-ninety-nine per glass. And we get the whole bottle from our distributor for only nine-ninety-nine!”
“Regardless of how much the club gets it for, I have a feeling you paid for it using your ‘five finger discount’,” Lucy says with air quotes.
Gilly licks a drop from the rim of the bottle. “Yeah, and so what? I work hard at that place, singing my heart out night after night. If I want to swipe a bottle or two of cheap champagne, I will. Plus, you know the boss loves me.”
Loves her? He’s more like obsessed with her. She could drive her car through the front door of the club, and he’d just smile at her and ask how her day was.
“You do it with him yet?” I ask.
She shakes her head with an emphatic no. “Are you kidding? That’s the fastest way to burst the bubble with a guy like him. Once he gets in my pants, he’ll no longer want me. You see, he’s not really interested in me—he’s interested in the idea of me.”
Good God. How Gilly and I ended up on such opposite ends of the man spectrum as we did blows my mind. I’m like a kindergartner compared to her heartbreaker know-how.
“Where you guys gonna go, anyway?” she asks.
I pull on another of the dresses Gilly brought over, then take it right off. “I don’t know where we’re going, but I do know I don’t want to look like a hoochie mama.”
I sit on the end of the bed in my mother’s guest room. I stay here when I’m in the city since I moved out of the place I was sharing with Andy the asshole. “Why can’t I just wear jeans?” I moan.
“Look, Petal. That PR guy said there’d be cameras when you get picked up. You need to look nice. Not like you’re heading out to Trader Joe’s for some frozen biryani.”
I pull on the Betsey Johnson dress I wore to the auction. “This really is the best option. I feel good in it, and the swingy skirt suits my style. You know, girly without being over the top.”
My mother sticks her head into the room. “Petal, you wore that to the auction. Wear something different.”
“Mom, do you think that guy paid any attention to what I was wearing? He was probably just relieved I didn’t have scales growing all over my face. I’m telling you, he wants to go on this date probably even less than I do.”
If that’s possible.
Mom looks at Lucy and Gilly for support. They nod politely. They’re not about to go up against her. They’ve known her all their lives and remember all too well what happened the time she caught us skipping school.
My mother does not mess around.
“Look at all these dresses I brought over, Mrs. Parker,” Gilly says. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”
Thanks, pal.
The doorbell rings and Mom disappears, muttering something about her cable car museum steering committee.
I twirl around in my dress. This is what I’m wearing. It’s perfect. “Guys, are you still coming up to Sonoma this weekend? I can’t wait for you to see the new adults-only section in Twisted Hearts. Talk about steamy reads.”
Defeated, Gilly stuffs her dresses back in her duffel, and Lucy plops down on my bed, reaching for one of the romances on my nightstand.
She licks her lips and skips to the sex scenes. “Yowza. This shit is hot.”
Which, incidentally, are easy to find since I marked them with stickies.
“I’m coming to Sonoma for sure. I want to see what other naughty stuff you guys are putting in your adults-only section. If it’s like this, I may spend my whole paycheck. What about you, Gills? You’re driving, right?” Lucy asks.
She nods. “Oh yes. Got the time off work. I’m dying to get out of the city for a little wine country weekend. But why do I have to drive? I always drive.”
They start going back and forth about who has the better road trip car while I reach inside my backpack for my buzzing phone.
Gilly plants her hands on her hips. “Please tell me you have a proper handbag, Petal. You cannot take that backpack on a date.”
But I don’t answer. I can’t. A slow kick to the stomach takes my breath away and I am simultaneously pissed off and mad at myself for being pissed off.
“What is it?” Lucy asks.
“It’s Andy. Again.”