I hmphed as yet another pin poked into my side. I’d barely stumbled off my red-eye flight to San Diego when Allie had excitedly squeezed the shit out of me at arrivals, whisked me for a breakfast I could barely eat, and dragged my ass into the fitting.
I still felt as though I needed more sleep, and I did. I planned a long-ass nap in my own bed the moment this was done.
Yesterday, when I’d emailed West to ask about one of the promotions, he’d called and acted like nothing had happened on Thursday night and told me to change my flight so I could stay in San Diego tonight. Michelle had approved it and added the charge to the business account. I was undecided whether or not I was bothered about him not addressing what’d happened between us.
I mean, it’d happened before, and it wasn’t like I had been expecting him to call me and thank me or sends flowers and a card or something. But it was almost more awkward that it hadn’t been mentioned. Of course, I was sure I’d feel that way if he had mentioned it, so it was whatever, but I was driving myself positively insane going over it again and again.
It wasn’t doing me any favors.
“Ouch, Jesus! If you have to take it in this much, you don’t need to poke me with a needle!” The words exploded out of me as the hundredth pin prodded my hip.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the young girl fitting me said. “But there’s a lot of material to take in.”
I guessed it could have been worse. “Just try to be careful, okay? Those things freakin’ hurt.”
Jaz snorted next to me—then yelped as she too was prodded.
Allie and Lucie, waiting for their turns on the other side of the room, giggled.
“Talking of being poked,” Lucie added, grinning with her eyes on me. “Something to share, Mia?”
I sniffed and looked at her dead on. “A lady never kisses and tells.”
“Yeah,” Jaz input, “But you ain’t no lady, and it’s not kissing and telling if you’re screwing the guy.”
“I’m not screwing anyone.” And I wasn’t comfortable having this conversation in front of anyone else, for what that was worth. Not that these bitches cared.
“Noooo, you’re only screwing the stripper.” Allie clapped her hands together.
“Screwed,” I corrected her as my fitting girl fought a laugh. “I screwed him. Screwing would imply I’m doing it right now or that it’s a long-term thing.”
“Is it a long-term thing?” Lucie asked.
“Well...no.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“Stop asking me hard questions. I was at the airport at five a.m. Lay off.”
“Oh god,” Jaz groaned, turning to look at me. “Are you doing a Mia?”
“What the hell is doing a Mia?”
“Falling too fast and too hard,” Allie explained. “It’s what you usually do.”
“I’m not falling anywhere. Fast or hard!” I sputtered.
Lucie shrieked a laugh. “No. You’re just getting fucked like it!”
“Oh my god!” My cheeks blazed. “Why don’t you get a speakerphone and announce it to the world? Holy crap!”
“Please tell me you’re bringing him to the wedding!” Jaz clapped her hands, much to the annoyance of her fitting girl. “Oh my god. Are you bringing him to the wedding?”
“I’m not bringing him anywhere!”
“Except to bed.”
“Jaz, I swear to fucking god I will come over there and beat you with my bare fists.”
“Is that what you say to him in bed?”
I moved as if I were going to whack her one, and Allie jumped up.
“Okay, okay!” She held her arms up. “No more ribbing on Mia. She’s having a really hard time.”
“I bet she is,” Lucie snorted. “Super, super hard.”
“Lucie Mayer, I will kill you in your sleep,” I snapped, my cheeks flushed.
Damn. Why couldn’t I have nice friends? Why did they all have to be asses?
Oh, that’s right. Because they were just like me. An ass. Nobody else would have us.
“Please drop it now. I don’t want to talk about West or anything else, okay?” I let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s move on.”
“Ma’am? You’re done,” my fitter said to me. She unzipped the back of my dress.
I quickly stepped out of it and grabbed the sundress I’d thrown on before going to the airport.
“I just have one more question.” Jaz held her finger up. “Have you actually spoken to him since?”
I nodded.
“About what happened?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Mia!” Allie pulled her shirt over her head and climbed onto the mini box thing I’d just been standing on. For a virgin, the girl was shameless in her neon-pink bra and thong. “Why not?”
“What am I supposed to do? Break into the middle of a work chat and be like, ‘Hey, West, thanks for that shit-hot orgasm, by the way! You gave me the fuck of my life’?” I slapped my hand against my forehead and slumped down the sofa. “No, Al. I can’t just do that, can I?”