Chapter 5 – Sidney #3
“Sidney Thorton? Is that you?”
I startle at the high-pitched shriek of someone who obviously recognizes me, and there is only one person who has that kind of voice—chatty Cathy Clementine.
“Cathy? Oh my God, hi,” I say the minute I turn and see that I’m right. “It’s been forever.”
“Over ten years.” She laughs as she moves in for a quick hug. It’s so unexpected that it leaves me momentarily stunned before I reciprocate it so I don’t look like I’m being a bitch. “And you look no worse for the wear.”
“And neither do you!”
“Oh, honey, no need to lie. I’ve gotten rounder and softer, and you’ve gotten skinnier and hotter.”
I blush, feeling neither of those things after everything that just happened.
“Was that Grayson Malone you were just chatting with? Or should I say having a lover’s spat with? Things looked a little tense.”
She hasn’t changed one bit. Always wanting to know everything about everyone.
“No. We’re not—he isn’t . . .” I pause to collect my thoughts, which are on the far side of chaotic. “He just helped me with something.”
“Whew. Thank goodness, or there would be hearts breaking all over Sunnyville tonight.”
“Why’s that?”
“He’s a hard one to compete for, and you’re a hard one to compete against.”
“Oh, stop. You’re too nice to my ego,” I say and put my hand on her arm.
“What brings you back to good ol’ Sunnyville anyway?”
“I’m just in town to help revive a magazine. Nothing permanent. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. Teaching second grade over at the elementary school. Nothing too exciting compared to the glamorous life I’m sure you’re living,” she says and laughs in a self-deprecating way that makes me sad. “But enough about me. Tell me more about you.”
“There’s, uh, nothing really to . . .” For some reason, I glance in the direction Grayson’s truck went, and when I look back at her, she has her head angled to the side, studying me with a knowing smile on her lips.
“Those Malone boys really know how to make you squeeze your Kegels, don’t they?”
“Jesus.” I all but laugh.
“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” A lift of her eyebrows. A playful punch to my shoulder. “They are one hot trifecta.”
“Since Grayson’s the only brother I’ve seen since I’ve been back in town, I can’t agree or disagree.” I figure I’ll play it safe with that response because if Cathy is still the same as she was in high school, anything I say can and will be used against me in the court of local gossip.
“Agree. Just flat-out agree because, let me tell you, those men were not created equal.”
“Fine, I’ll agree, but I have a feeling their wives might take offense to your strengthening your Kegels while thinking about them.”
She purses her lips before they spread into a wide grin. “Emerson and Dylan are cool. I’m sure they’d be okay with it for the greater good of man.”
“Who? What are you talking about?” I ask, more than aware that chatty Cathy Clementine has not changed a bit—talking in nonstop circles that are sometimes hard to decipher.
“Their wives. Grant, who’s a cop now, is married to Emerson Reeves. And Grady is married to Dylan McCoy, who you’ve probably heard on the radio,” she says, and I nod because I do, in fact, know who Dylan McCoy is.
“And then there’s Grayson,” I murmur, thinking about the colander on his head and the way his body just felt against mine.
“Single as a Pringle.” She laughs at her own joke. “And a man who knows how to reel the women in but kick them out of bed before the sheets get too warm if you know what I mean.”
“Really?”
“’Player’ isn’t exactly fair. How about . . . discreet? He has a line of women a mile long who are all willing to be his plaything, but he keeps any relationship—if you can call it that—on the down low because of his son . . . or so they say.”
“Who are they?”
“The women in line waiting before and after me for a chance at him, who may or may not have friends with firsthand knowledge if you catch my drift.” She winks and then startles when her phone texts an alert.
She pulls it from her purse and looks down at it before meeting my eyes again.
“I’m so sorry, but that’s my friend I’m meeting, and she’s wondering where I am.
I’ve gotta run and catch her . . . but we should go for drinks sometime and catch up.
I could fill you in on all the town gossip—heavy on the Malone part if you’re thinking of stepping in line with the rest of us. ”
That’s ten years’ worth of gossip that no doubt Cathy has memorized and is ready to repeat.
“Catching up would be great. I’d like that.
” My smile is genuine despite her offer being a blatant reminder of why I steered clear of her in high school—her knack for gossip.
The fact that everyone knew everyone else’s business was one of the main things I couldn’t stand growing up here.
So why is it now that I’m kind of looking forward to meeting up with her again?
Maybe it’s because she doesn’t seem to judge me by my past like so many others in town have.
Either way, I have to take friends where I can get them these days.