Rusty Nailed Page 14

He strutted away, and I headed to the front door. I could see Ryan through the glass, but no Mimi.

“Hey, where’s your girl?” I asked, but then heard a wheeeeee coming from up above.

“She’s ridden it twice already,” he replied, rolling his eyes but smiling at his girlfriend as she came down the hill in the hillevator, peeking over the side.

“That will never get old. I love this thing,” she announced when she got to the bottom, opening the door and climbing out. She had a basket full of treats and an armful of board games, which Ryan hurried to assist with. “See, this thing is actually useful.”

“Well, it’s not just a carnival ride, no.” I laughed, grabbing a bag as well. “Good lord, how many games did you bring?”

“I thought it would be best to plan for any and all hiccups tonight. And speaking of hiccups, I brought plenty of booze,” she stated, nodding to the box from the liquor store.

“Sure, because what goes better with tension than alcohol?” I snorted, catching Ryan’s eye.

“I tried to tell her,” he said under his breath.

“I heard that,” she sang out as she trotted into the house.

“I meant you to,” he sang back. “ ’Sup?” He nodded to Simon, who had parked himself behind a wing chair.

I chuckled to myself at his technique for hiding his enthusiasm. I winked at him, feeling a thrill rumble through me when he looked at me with those heavy lidded eyes. Damn, that man got to me.

I led Mimi into the kitchen, letting her set up the bar while I finally got the turnovers into the oven.

We chatted while we put together snacks for the evening. Since I didn’t have the time I used to, it nearly killed me to get the turnovers together in time. But taking a page from the Barefoot Contessa, I managed to put together a respectable spread. I arranged several cheeses from a local shop, including a runny Brie and a stinky Stilton, some French bread, and little bowls of spicy almonds and salty olives. Slices of salami, capicola, pepperoni, and mortadella covered another wooden board, along with bowls of marinated artichoke hearts and roasted red peppers. A few containers of garlicky hummus and pillowy pita completed the nosh. I finished up just as Mimi was putting the final touches on her drink stations.

“Whiskey sours, martinis, and look! Wallbangers!” she cried, setting out a bottle of Galliano just as Simon and Ryan came in to join us.

“Perfect. Caroline was just saying before you two got here that she was dying for some more of me,” he teased, making me blush as the timer went off on my turnovers.

“Mix yourself up there, Simon,” I said over my shoulder, pulling the flaky triangles from the oven. The look he gave me told me I would indeed be getting turned over later on that night. You wouldn’t catch me complaining.

Just as Simon handed me a drink, we heard the doorbell.

“Showtime,” Mimi mumbled, heading off to the door. It was Sophia, with the tallest man I’d ever seen. But not just tall, he was crazy good looking. He was like NBA meets surfer.

“Why, hello there!” I said, looking up and up. “I’m Caroline.”

“Hey,” he said down to me in a voice that was incredibly deep. “Zach.”

He shuffled off to shake hands with the guys as I took Sophia’s coat.

“When I say that’s a tall drink of water, I’m not exaggerating,” I whispered to her, checking him out as he towered over Ryan and Simon, neither of whom were short.

“Thanks. He plays basketball in France; he’s home for the holidays. I met him at the gym.”

“Damn, I need to switch to your gym. The cute boy quotient is considerably higher than mine,” I replied, hanging up her coat.

She scanned the room, breathing a little easier when she saw that Neil wasn’t there. “Can I help with anything?”

The doorbell rang again.

“Like right now, can I help with anything? How about I make sure the bars okay,” she said, heels clicking across the floor as she grabbed Tall Zach and pulled him toward the alcohol.

Simon walked over to me, reaching around me to open the door for the only friend who hadn’t yet arrived.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Neil said, handing Simon a bottle of scotch. “Caroline, thanks for inviting me,” he added, sneaking a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

“Hi, Neil,” I managed, trying to remember that this was Simon’s friend and I was making an effort. I had to really make an effort when I got an eyeful of who he brought with him.

I can’t say for sure that she’d ever appeared in Playboy. But if she hadn’t, she should have.

“Hi! I’m Missy,” she said, and I smiled at Neil through clenched teeth. I could tell it was putting Simon in physical pain not to laugh.

“Hi there, Missy,” I managed. “Let me take your coat, Missy.”

“Wow, look at all those windows!” She giggled as I led them inside.

I knew how much a window wall that size cost to install, and I wondered how much it would cost to repair . . .

chapter ten

“Airplane. Airplane people. Airplane holding a sponge.”

“Airplane with hands, hands? Okay, hands. Airplane hands. Sponge hands.”

“Sponge hands! Airplane sponge. Bird sponge. Bird! Okay, bird. Hand bird.”

“SpongeBob HandBird. Stop pointing at the airplane, we know it’s not an airplane!”

“Time’s up.”

“Dammit!”

Sophia sat down in a huff, throwing her Sharpie across the room. Neil stuck his hand straight up in the air and caught it as she huffed, “I can’t believe you guys couldn’t get that! It was so obvious that it was—”

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t say another word. We get a chance to steal,” Simon said from his place on the couch.

It was girls against guys, and the guys were currently kicking our ass. They were up forty points. Stupid boys.

“Go ahead, you’ll never get it. Don’t worry, they’ll never get it,” Sophia assured us, sipping her cocktail and winking at Zach over the rim.

“Now just give us a minute. We have thirty seconds to examine the picture and see if we can guess what you were trying to draw,” Ryan said, standing up and going over to the board where Sophia had been drawing.

“We know how the game is played!” Mimi yelled from her perch on the back of the couch. She was Drunky Mimi tonight; her cocktail station had served her well. And overserved her—she was Loud Drunky Mimi. “You don’t have to say that each time you try to steal!”

As Simon and Ryan puzzled over the drawing while Mimi counted down from thirty, Zach flirted with Sophia. And by flirting, I mean licked the rim of his glass. All the way around. He looked like a giraffe.

Shuddering, I looked at Sophia, who wasn’t even watching. She was watching Neil, who was watching Missy, who was adjusting her bra. I knew this because it was hanging half out of her shirt.

Ryan and Simon continued to argue over the picture while Zach giraffed, and I just held my head. Disaster.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!” Mimi shouted, staring at her watch.

“It’s not New Year’s—just give us a few more seconds, we can get this!” Ryan shouted back, looking back and forth from the picture to Simon.

“Shit, I don’t know, is it, is it—shit!” Simon yelled, bouncing from one foot to the other.

“Six! Five! Four! Three!” Mimi continued. Missy crossed her legs. Neil stared at her legs. Zach burped, but continued licking. Sophia steamed.

“Two!”

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” Neil stated, his gaze on Sophia.

“One! Ha, you didn’t— Wait, what?” Mimi asked, looking at Neil, then Sophia. Simon and Ryan looked hopeful.

Silence.

“That’s right.” Sophia scowled, wincing when Simon and Ryan erupted into cheers.

“No way, no way! No fair, I had almost said one! I had almost said one!” Mimi cried, jumping across the room and landing on Ryan’s back, pummeling him with her fists. Zach burped again. Missy took her hair out of her ponytail, and everyone with a penis stopped to watch.

“That’s it,” Sophia snapped, and stormed into the kitchen.

“I’m calling time-out!” I yelled as I left the room to follow her.

“Time-out from what?” Zach asked, and I just shook my head.

Sophia was angrily taking things out of the fridge, then putting them back again. “I can’t believe he got that!”

“I can’t believe we didn’t. How embarrassing!” I answered, holding the fridge door open for her as a rotisserie chicken made its way out.

“No kidding! I mean, come on, how are we losing to these guys?” she asked, rifling through the condiment door and coming up with a bottle of Sriracha.

“We’re losing because we’re not concentrating. We need to get our heads in the game.” I watched as she put away a jar of pickles and grabbed a jug of milk.

“Pfft, maybe you’re not concentrating because you’re drooling over my b’ball player.” She smirked, removing a plastic container of leftover peas.

“I’m sure that’s it,” I remarked, trying to keep the incredulous out of my voice. Without question, Tall Zach was great looking, but what a drip.

“What am I looking for?” she asked, holding a container of sour cream in one hand and a cucumber in the other.

“You got me,” I answered, spying Neil coming around the corner. “But thanks for cleaning out the fridge.”

As Sophia stuck her head back in, Neil came into the kitchen.

“Funny how I knew exactly what you were trying to draw, huh, Soph?” he started, and she froze. I knew she froze because the sour cream dropped to the floor. I sidestepped away as she shut the door, pointing her cucumber at him.

“Don’t give me you knew exactly what I was trying to draw. You must have seen the card.”

“How could I have seen the card? You were holding it the entire time.”

“Well, maybe you turned away from Titty McBoobs over there to look.”

“Oh please, you think that—”

I walked away just as Simon came around the corner, and I quickly turned him back from where he came.

“I wouldn’t go in there right now. Sophia’s got a cucumber and she knows how to use it.”

He snorted.

“Wait, that came out wrong. They’re in there talking,” I said, tugging him along.

We both winced as their voices rose.

“Well, they’re talking loudly—but they’re talking.” I sighed.

• • •

In the end, Game Night totally sucked. Mimi almost passed out, still grumbling about being cheated out of SpongeBob HandBird. Ryan spent the rest of the night memorizing the Pictionary rulebook for next time, while Simon and I cleaned sour cream off the kitchen floor and picked cucumber seeds out from between the tiles.

“She squeezed the seeds right out, with her hand! It wasn’t even peeled!” he kept saying, amazed and more than a little scared.

And Frick and Frack? Made out with Tall and Tits. Actually made out with their dates in front of each other. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wanted to look away, I felt like I should look away, but I couldn’t. Simon and I stood there, covered in seeds, watching the make-out contest. Sophia was pushed up against the wall, so then Tits got pushed up against a wall. Neil got an impromptu lap dance; so did Tall.

“It’s like we’re at some kind of swingers’ party,” Simon whispered when a shoe flew by, kicked off by a Playboy bunny.

“Or WrestleMania,” I whispered back when another shoe flew the other way. Don’t think Sophia didn’t notice Shoeless Tits.

When the groaning finally drowned out Mimi’s muttering, it was time to stick a fork in the entire evening. And then never speak of that fork again.

Glaring at each other, Neil and Sophia walked out together, hot dates in tow. Ryan carried Mimi out to the hillevator, telling us he’d come back the next day to pick up their things. “I’ve got to get her home before she pukes,” he said, shaking his head. “No more drink stations.”

As they rode up the hill, I could hear snippets floating back from Neil and Sophia, arguing all the way to the cars.

We headed back inside, looking at the drawing board. Which was now decorated with phallic imagery, courtesy of Tall Zach.

Simon began, “I love our friends, but—”

“How the hell are they our friends?” I finished, and he nodded.

Laughing ruefully, he flipped back to the picture that ended the game. “A bird in the hand. How did we not get this?”

“Because she drew an airplane with sponges—that’s why.” I sighed. “Wanna go to bed?”

“Hell yes,” he answered. As we headed to the bedroom, he helped me unzip my dress. “She still loves him, doesn’t she?”

“Of course she does,” I answered. I let my dress fall to the floor, and I climbed into bed in my bra and panties. I watched through tired eyes as Simon undressed.

“Did you set the alarm?” I asked.

“It’s Sunday. Why do we need to set the alarm?” he asked, turning back his covers.

“I have to work for a few hours in the morning. Monica’s meeting me at the coffee shop down the street.”

“Babe.” He shook his head before turning out the light. After he set the alarm. “You’re working too hard.”

“Lots to do. If I work tomorrow, I’ll have some time this week during the evening. It’ll be fine. You sleep in, and by the time you’re up, I’ll be almost home. We can go for a drive.”

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