Page 20 of Spinning Out Of Control

“We talked to our lawyers, but there was nothing we could do. It’s not like I had a trademark or anything. I wrote out a sort of business plan in a journal during my freshman year at UCLA, but that journal was long lost by then. I didn’t have so much as a text message talking about the idea to bring to court. There was no way to prove that Spin Sync was my intellectual property because technically, it wasn’t.”

“And you never got any sort of documentation from this guy while you were working together? Nothing that says you’ve essentially been partners since the beginning?” Stephen asks. I try not to get upset that all the guys want to solve my problems when all I wanted to do was complain to my girlfriends. They mean well, even when they’re being annoyingly logical.

“Nope,” I answer, popping the ‘p’ dramatically. “Anytime I asked him for anything–even just a title that lent me some power, Jonathan would tell me the same thing. That he wouldn’t want to stick around forever, and that I’d get my chance at running things. And like an idiot, I believed him. I was too understanding. Too kind. All I wanted was a chance to buy what should have been rightfully mine, but no. I was holding on to an opportunity that he was never going to give me.”

“And that’s why you’re so mad at Warren. Because he represents everything that Jonathan took from you.”

I tap my nose with my pointer finger.

“Exactly, Georgie. And also, one other reason.”

“What’s the other reason?” James asks. The weirdohas his eyes squeezed shut while he holds Georgie’s hand because he can’t stand to see his wife in pain. I hate how sweet it is. “I mean, I get the symbolism shit, but Warren has been doing great so far. He seems to be getting on well with everyone. And you know he brought me on to the technical team. He’s got some really great ideas for moving the company forward.”

All true. All unhelpful.

“I kind of...sort of…maybe hooked up with him…” I say. The artist inking my wrist snorts, then coughs to try to cover it up. I can’t blame her. I’d snort at my idiocy, too.

My friends erupt in a chorus of questions.

“When?”

“Where?’

“How was it?”

I roll my eyes

“At the wedding. In the bridal suite. With Colonel Mustard–does it matter? The man has seen me come, and now he’s my boss. And he keeps telling me he didn’t know he’d be buying the company at the time, but I don’t believe him. I mean, these kinds of things take months to go through. Years, sometimes.”

“The right amount of money can make anything happen quickly,” Dottie says, and all the guys nod. I guess they would know. Last year, Stephen went to James for a loan so that he could expand his family’s construction company to California. Amir also once used his money and power for good, buying an entirestartup just so he could fire Rachel’s shitty ex-boyfriend for hurting her.

“Whatever. I don’t even care that he’s the King Asshole leading the parade down Shithead Street. It’s just humiliating. I thought with my clit instead of my brain and now I’m just the girl who fucked the guy who was intent on screwing her over.”

Again.

The buzz of the tattoo guns fades as the artists wrap up their work, and I’m met with pitying stares from my friends. We’re quiet as our wrists are wiped and wrapped in plastic.

“So, how did that Jacob’s ladder feel inside you?” Amir asks bluntly, breaking the awkward silence.

Fuck. As if I wasn’t having a hard enough time trying to forget Warren’s gorgeous, bejeweled dick as it is. I was so shocked when I palmed him through his briefs and felt the barbells. He seemed too buttoned up to even entertain something as frivolous and sexy as a dick piercing–let alone multiple along the length of him–but maybe that’s just the accent.

“We didn’t actually have sex, just fooled around. And how do you know about the Jacob’s ladder?” I ask. Amir just shrugs.

“I caught a glimpse in a steam room once. I wasn’t trying to look, but it’s hard to miss all those barbells. It’s a shame you didn’t get to climb the ladder. I’ve always wondered if it would be worth it.”

“Am! You’d actually pierce your penis?” Georgie asks.

“I’m not afraid of a little pain, Peaches. And I’m quite dedicated to Rachel’s pleasure.” He winks, nuzzling his nose into his fiancée’s hair.

“God, I almost threw up when I got my nose pierced. Can you imagine a needle in your dick?” Dottie asks. Stephen winces and violently shakes his head as he shudders.

“It’s an interesting concept, though,” James pipes in with a shrug. “I mean, I’m ninety-five percent sure that I’m straight, but I was there in that steam room and I had some pretty gay thoughts about that dude’s cock.”

“Okay, enough dick talk. C’mon, let’s go outside and take pictures of our new tattoos in the sunlight!” Rachel squeals, and the four of us head into the daylight to admire the permanent love letters we wrote for each other under our skin.

My emotions get the best of me, and tears well in my eyes. I blink them back, but there’s still a crack in my voice when I turn to my friends.

“I love you guys. Georgie, Rachel, Dottie, you’re all so important to me. I’m so lucky to call you guys my friends.”

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