Page 121 of Unhinged

I softly gasp and whisper, “Do you think you’ll ask me out again?”

“Fuck, yes. Do you think you’d want to go out with me again?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I feel his smile against my temple and then hear, “Greg, is that you?”

Greg lifts his head and drops his hand as we turn to see a familiar brassy blonde whose face I wish I didn’t have to see every day. Greg switches his arm, pulling me close to him. “Cynthia.”

I cringe before plastering the fakest smile I can muster as her smile drops faster than underwear at a frat party. “Simone?”

I work my plastic smile overtime. “The one and only. Hello.” Heifer One.

The guy she’s with looks like he’d rather not be. She wags her finger between Greg and me. “You are seeing each other?”

I grit my teeth, and Greg says, “It’s bright in here, so yeah, I see her.” I love that mouth of his.

She laughs, and it sounds like a killer clown on helium. “I thought she went out with Elijah. I guess it was when you weren’t there, visiting your mother. Now she’s with you?” Shit. It’s like she’s telling on me.

Before I can answer, Greg hangs his arm over my shoulders and hugs me to his side, and I feel safe. “They’re friends.”

“And I see you are extra good friends.” Heifer One laughs again, and I wish a flying putter would put me out of my misery and Greg’s embarrassment.

Sick of this bitch’s smug smile, I say, “Greg and I are dating, so…” Eat a bag of knives.

The guy with her sighs as Heifer One covers her mouth melodramatically. Still ignoring my presence, she says, “Oh! Okay. I get it now. She got the job because her boyfriend is the boss’s son. Or maybe the job has better perks than I thought.” She bats her eyelashes at Greg, and I feel like such a tramp.

I loosen my hold on Greg’s waist, but he grips my shoulders. “Are you serious? Simone got the job on her own merit. I had nothing to do with it.” Except for everything, really.

Heifer One shrugs, now looking slightly uncomfortable in her high-waisted jeans two sizes too small and pink cardigan that would see better days in the trash. “Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it. Simone is great.” And you are not.

“Damn right, she is.” My mind suddenly empties like Macy’s on Black Friday.

“Of course you’d think that, being the current boyfriend. Right?” She laughs and looks at the poor sack standing next to her for encouragement, which he gives her zilch.

“Wrong. I’m not her boyfriend. Simone is my wife.”

I think I just died.

Heifer One gasps like she saw a naked boob at a church picnic. “Oh, my! Your mother never mentioned that!”

Greg’s annoyance grows, as does my admiration for him. “It’s nobody’s business, so there’s that.” Fuck me to France. And Italy. And Japan.

Feeling his tense abdominal muscles beneath my fingers, I say, “Well, anyway. I think we’re done golfing. You ready, baby?” I can’t believe I just called him that in front of Heifer One. But I’m glad it wasn’t any of the other names I call him. Those are just meant for him to hear. Most of the time.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Rodwell.” Dead again.

Greg drops his arm, and we pick up our clubs and balls. Thinking alike, we each transfer them to opposite hands, and this time, I’m the first to grab his hand. Greg instantly slides his fingers between mine. I’m so happy that I give Heifer One an actual smile and say, “See ya.” In hell, bitch.

Chapter 21

“Simone is my wife.”

I never thought I’d utter that. Our ground rules stated we wouldn’t. Instead of grating me, it awakens me.

I’m married to Simone. For real.

And I don’t hate it.

---