Page 1 of Fluke
1
PIPPA
“Seeking a fake ex-husband.”
My words fall into the air, sounding just as ridiculous as I imagined they would. I sigh and lift a brow at Kerissa, my best friend and troublemaker extraordinaire, sitting across the table from me. The mischief in her eyes complements the smug grin on her face, and I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I need to rethink this attempt at crisis management.
“I can’t do this,” I say, slamming my notebook closed.
“And why not?”
I level my gaze with hers. “You’ve come up with a lot of bizarre things in your life, but this one takes the cake.”
“Takes the …wedding cake?”
She laughs at her joke—one that I don’t find especially funny under the circumstances.
How do I get myself into these situations?
I grab a couple of Cajun fries—the whole reason we came to Shade House for happy hour—and pop them in my mouth. Tables around us begin to fill with patrons ordering drinks and appetizers. I side-eye my root beer float and consider breaking down and ordering an amaretto sour. The only problem is that my problem-solving abilities go down with each drink. At this point, I need all the help I can get.
“We could use this as an excuse to throw a divorce party,” Kerissa says.
“Kerissa—”
“Will you just think about it? Hear me out.” Her eyes twinkle. “We’ll go to Savannah and get a room at Picante.”
I sigh happily. “I do love that hotel.”
“Right? We can hit up a Georgia Hornets game, get a massage, and shop. Maybe find a couple of unassuming bachelors to ravage for the weekend.”
“Well, I did see that Lincoln Landry is the general manager of the Hornets now.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “I’m thinking about buying a Hornets shirt with Landry on the back.”
She laughs. “They don’t have shirts with the GM’s name on them.”
“Oh, no.They do.” I point at her. “You can get them online. I’ve already looked.”
“How did you know all this, Miss I Hate Sports?”
“Because Lincoln Landry transcends baseball. He went viral last season for nothing other than a smirk and the way he licked his lips.” I shrug. “Who am I not to follow a fan account dedicated to giving me delicious videos every morning? LandryLover0808 works hard at her craft, and I support content creators,thank you very much.”
Her laughter grows louder. “Sometimes I wonder if I even know you.”
I laugh too.
“There’s this little place called Judy’s down the street from Picante,” Kerissa says. “We can grab breakfast there.”
“Yes, and maybe we can …” I stop as reality knocks me sideways. “Wait a minute.I’m not actually getting a divorce,remember?”
Kerissa frowns.
I flop back in my chair, the legs rattling against the tile floor, and huff.
Ten minutes ago, I was frustrated that I was a fake divorcée. Now I’m irritated that I’m not a real one.
Why am I the way I am?
Kerissa leans forward, folding her hands on the tabletop. “Is it wrong if I say I’m sad you don’t have a marriage in trouble?”
