Page 128 of Playboy

When the women under the hair dryers huff, I can’t help but taunt them by rubbing my belly with my left hand, highlighting my bare ring finger. I definitely can’t see my feet now, even propped up like this. Even so, my man loves my body, and I’m not the least bit ashamed of how much we like sex.

“I’m pretending I don’t know you,” Ava mumbles.

“Too bad I’m your best friend and favorite person ever—after Josie, of course.”

Ava’s lips twitch, and her green eyes light up. “Love that you put yourself above my three other childrenandmy husband.”

“Daddy War will not be happy,” Sara cajoles.

“I bet Daddy War likes multiple orgasms, and I’ll be his favorite too when I tell Ava how to give them to him.” I settle back in my seat, content to know I’m right.

I like being right.

Daniel tells me I’m never not right.

If there’s a single thing the guyisn’tgood at, it’s keeping me humble, and I’m okay with that.

One of the hairdressers approaches the women across the room and turns off the dryers. The woman who continued to huff stands, straightens her clothing, and with a glare at us, stalks toward the bathroom.

The other one glances down the hall to where her friend disappeared, then shuffles our way.

“Oh, this should be good,” I mumble.

She stops directly in front of me. “I couldn’t help but overhear…”

“That’s because this one”—Sara throws a thumb my way—“is loud.”

With a nervous smile, the woman shuffles around the technician in front of me, moving closer. “Do you have any suggestions for men who are”—she clears her throat—“older?”

“How to help him get it up?” I ask, making sure there isn’t an ounce of judgment in my tone.

She shakes her head. Her gray hair doesn’t move an inch as she does. “Oh, he does just fine in that department. The, uh…” Another step closer. “The multiple orgasm thing.”

Lennox stifles a giggle and Millie mutters a “Jesus Christ.”

I have to tighten all my core muscles as well as my butt cheeks to keep from peeing myself. My son’s favorite spot is tucked up right against my bladder.

“Ya know, I actually don’t. But—” I hold up a finger and pull out my phone. “If you follow this woman’s column, I’ll make sure she gets an answer to that question as soon as possible.”

Millie leans over, peering at my phone where I’ve pulled up the Instagram page for Calliope’s Column. “Oh my god,” she groans. “Not you too.”

I frown, willing myself not to snap at my friend. “What?”

“Daniel’s obsessed with that column. If he’d ever met Calliope, you’d have some serious competition.”

A thrill works its way through me. “You don’t say?”

Daniel never stops surprising me. Obsessed with my column, is he? Could I love the man more?

At two o’clock sharp,the girls and I are standing outside the door to Ground Zero. We’ve had our bodies massaged, our nails painted, our hair curled, and our faces done up. I laughed and smiled and genuinely enjoyed every moment of our girl time. Even so, I have to fight the urge to grimace at the door in front of us. “He chose thebarfor the baby shower?”

When Millie smiles this brightly, she looks so much like her twin. “Just give Danny Boy the benefit of the doubt. He did good today.”

With a dramatic eye roll—gotta keep up with the persona—I step forward and yank the door open. “Whatever you say.”

The moment I step inside, the room erupts in an eardrum-shattering “surprise.”

It’s not the number of people who are here that genuinely leaves me speechless. I was expecting a celebration, after all.

---