Page 1 of Happy Endings

Chapter 1

Is the glow-in-the-dark one leaning too hard to the left?”

Trixie Nguyen stepped back and cocked her head, taking in her artistic arrangement of vibrators, dildos, and lotions on the restaurant table. The bright purple cloth she’d tossed over two Formica tables pushed together gleamed next to the dark wood walls of Mama Hazel’s, a soul-food restaurant whose worn tables and chairs had witnessed many secrets of its Northeast DC residents.

“No, he’s leaning just the right amount. Your display looks perfect—like it does at all your shows,” said Reina, who was coming back from the buffet line clutching two full plates. “Hurry up, I’m hungry,” she added in her southern drawl.

Her best friend slid the heaping dishes of fried chicken, waffles, and collard greens onto their small round table. There were perks to holding a private pop-up shop for her bachelorette party guests inside a restaurant. For once, she didn’t have customers hovering while she set up her display. Tonight, the bride-to-be and her thirty guests were spread out across several tables, each with her own plate of food. Though their feast didn’t keep a few from pointing and giggling at the items on the display table.

“Wow, that smells amazing!” Trixie’s stomach growled.

“You should see the buffet setup. I almost made myself twoplates, but I couldn’t do that to you.” Reina’s wide smile was as bright as her red hair. “If the food tastes as good as it smells, I’m going back for seconds.”

“Almost done.” Trixie adjusted Glo-Man and placed a bottle of Unicorn Spit lube next to it. It was her first time doing a sales demo in a restaurant instead of a customer’s home. “Everything needs to be perfect.”

“Don’t make me eat alone.” Reina sat down and unrolled her silverware from the napkin. “This is totally worth fighting BW Parkway traffic across town on a Friday night during rush hour.”

“Thanks again for the ride. My car will have a new transmission tomorrow, and I won’t have to ask you and the rest of the Boss Babes for rides anymore.”

The Boss Babes were her three brilliant, badass besties, and they’d kept her from falling apart when she left New Orleans to start over in DC two years ago. She’d known Reina the longest, after meeting her in New Orleans during undergrad.

“That sounds ex-peeeen-sive.” Reina’s drawl drew out the last and most cringeworthy word.

“At least I was able to book an extra show this week to pay for repairs.” Her smile fell as she recalled her mechanic’s estimate.

“I’m always happy to be your chauffeur. No way I’d let you take a rideshare carrying a suitcase of dildos. What if you got a creepy driver and the toys fell out of your bags?” Reina shook her head. “Hell, no. Boss Babes take care of Boss Babes.”

“Thank you for—well, everything. For rescuing me from New Orleans and the longest self-pity party I’ve ever thrown. And giving me a job at your club until I got on my feet.”

“Hush. You’d do the same for me. Besides, you were a terrible bartender,” said Reina. “You’re way better at slinging vibrators.”

“It’s easy to get distracted when there are hot guys performing burlesque onstage. Let’s just say working at Lucky Stiff prepared me for this job.” Trixie laughed and gestured at her display of vibrators.

She was relieved her bartending days were behind her. Tonight, Trixie was excited to explain how her table of arousal gels and battery-operated boyfriends would rock these women’s worlds. The props currently on her demo table would make it an interactive experience that would hopefully lead to plenty of sales and referrals for more shows.

“This is sex on a plate,” Reina moaned through bites of the crispy, juicy fried chicken. “I also ordered us a pitcher of margaritas.”

“Ugh, no tequila for me.” Trixie shuddered. “I need to stay sharp if I’m going to beat Betty Fairchild for sales rep of the year.”

Not to mention snag the hefty bonus that came with winning. That money would bring her one step closer to opening her own sex toy boutique, where she could run things the way she wanted. After one more visual check of her display, Trixie pulled out the chair across from Reina and sat down.

“You’re going to kick her ass this year!” Reina exclaimed before inhaling more food.

“I hope so.” Trixie cleared her throat. “No, Iwillbeat her and win the ten-thousand-dollar prize!”

“Keep saying it till you believe it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Trixie replied with an exaggerated drawl. “Maybe it’s not too late to change our drink order. A margarita might help my nerves right now, but it’ll throw off my focus.”

“Poor maligned tequila. Some of my best memories were created during a tequila haze in the French Quarter.” Reina’s eyes crinkled, and she winked at Trixie.

“Save your tales of debauchery for the next Boss Babes lunch!” Trixie laughed. She slid her fork out of the rolled napkin and immediately set it down. How could she be so rude? “Thanks for making me a plate, but I need to check in with Keisha first.”

“Is that the woman wearing the colorful head wrap?” Reina looked over to the buffet. “She’s the one who helped you organize this pop-up, right?”

Trixie followed Reina’s gaze to a corner of the restaurant near the kitchen. Tables had been pushed together—much like her display table—and covered with white tablecloths to form a makeshift buffet line. It was easy to spot Keisha and her red floral head wrap, which barely contained her dark brown curls. Keisha chatted with a guest as she wiped spills and replaced serving spoons.

“Yes and yes. She’s co-owner of the restaurant along with her brother.” Trixie pushed back her chair. “I’ll see if I can change our pitcher into one glass.”

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