Page 38 of Games We Play
“People are still naming their boys Stan, huh?” Leah was showing her age again, because that would nevernotbe a reference toThe Golden Girls.Karlie assured her that it was actually a reference toAmerican Dad!Whatever that was. “Well, let me know how it goes, huh? I promise not to tell Mom.”
At least Karlie was grinning again. “It’s not like we’re dating, sis. We’re texting.”
“Uh huh.” Leah knew how that went. First, it was phone calls and texting. (Or emails, like back inherday.) Then they were going to the movies. Then to the bookstore (the cool one, of course.) Then they were sharing pizza slices and drinking from the same soda bottle.
Then they’re up in his room, doing things they’re not supposed to know about.
“You always look so serious these days,” Karlie said with a sigh. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to start dating, sis.”
“Well…” Leah had put her stationery away, but now peered into her typewriter bag. “If you don’t trust me to keep your secret about Stan, I might offer you some leverage against me, should I go squealing to Mom.”
Karlie grinned. “What’s her name, huh?”
Leah looked around the quiet café before responding. “Margaret.”
“Whoa. Is she older than you? That’s some grandma name.”
Leah wrinkled her nose, not that she disagreed.Yet Sloan carries both of her names well.She looked like a Margaret. Not a Maggie, but aMargaret.Cool, confident, mature, and ready to fuck someone up if they got in the way. “She’s that awful forty you keep talking about.”
“Whoa, but at your age, having an older girlfriend is totally cool, right? Not like at my age. It’s gross, right?” Karlie parroted those words well, but her sister wasn’t convinced she understood why they were true.What I would give to be this naïve again.“She your girlfriend?”
Leah shrugged. “It’s not serious. We’re casually dating.”
That grin was cheekier than any teen’s had a right to be. “Is that who you were with this weekend? You didn’t come home Saturday night. You were totally at her placeboning.”
Play it cool, Leah. You’re the older, wiser, more life experienced sister.Yeah, right. “Yes. I was totally boning her all weekend.” Leah had never espoused a haughtier sniff as when she plopped her Kate Spade bag on the table. “She bought me this on Sunday. She’sloaded.”
Squealing, Karlie grabbed her sister’s bag with renewed interest. She had already fawned over it when Leah brought it home Sunday, but now that she knew it was a lover’s token? The teasing and squealing would be relentless. The gender of Leah’s lover didn’t matter. As long as she had a little sister, said sibling would be over the moon to talk about love and lust as a big, mature adult.Because I totally feel mature when I’m with Sloan.That was the word!
“So she’s your sugar mama, huh?”
“Think I’m too old to have a sugar mama, per se. More like I have a really rich friend with certain benefits.”
“Oh my gawd.” Karlie played with the buttons on the side of the bag. “How did you get so lucky? Does she have a little brother?”
“Not until you’re twenty-one.”I wonder if Sloan does have siblings, though.She had brought up almost nothing about her childhood or personal life. Hell, she barely talked about her professional life. It had been two weeks, and Leah still wasn’t sure what Sloandidfor a living. Something about traveling around the world brokering deals. What were those deals, though? Was she buying people out? Investments? Overseeing mergers? Did Leah care?
No.
“Can’t believe my big sis finally has a girlfriend.” Karlie cupped her chin in her hands. “She’s gottensobig…”
“What about you, huh? You and Stan here gonna be a thing?”
“Asif.”
That meant yes.
While Karlie finished up her homework, Leah rearranged her purse so it lined up with the sunset occurring outside the café window. The glare off the glass was enough to make the chain strap sparkle. All she needed was a warm filter to make it more romantic.
She texted the picture to Sloan, with the message,“I’ve been trying to write some words to you all afternoon, but can’t seem to say what I mean. So, have this to know that I’ve been thinking of you.”
That wasn’t the only photo she sent. The next was a selfie with a big smile – but the photo cut off at her nose and focused on the ample cleavage in her blouse.
What got her off more? Boldly sending sexually suggestive photos to her lover, or imagining Sloan’s face when she opened the attachment?
Did it matter?
“Sis,” Karlie said, peering above her laptop, “you’re embarrassing us all.”
