Page 14 of Blurry Little Lines
“You don’t have to. I know you hate fancy events, and you’re not obligated to show up.” I shoot him a pointed look.
“Max hasn’t been laid in a while, and at these events, he can usually take his pick.” Adam laughs.
“What the hell.” Max runs a hand through his hair, widening his eyes at my brother, and glances toward my mother with his tight, annoyed smile.
“You’re too tense, bro. Edgy lately,” Adam goes on. “You also turned Callista down.”
“Does Lauren know you still remember Callista’s name?” I spew, as if it’s a threat.
“Callista’s name isn’t the one I growl when we have sex, so I doubt Lauren cares if I still remember.”
“Enough!” My mother shakes her head, mortified. “Adam, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“I wouldn’t go with your sister just to blow her off for a quick fuck, bro,” Max interrupts, and then looks at my mother. “Sorry, Helen. Annoyance took over, and I swore instead of smacking your son in front of you.”
“He could still use a smack.” My mother shrugs with a smirk. “You know what?” She grins, not missing a beat. “Speaking offeeling good, Lawrence Carlisle will be at the gala, Kelsie.” Her implication weirds me out because, even though I know how strong her relationship is with my father, my mother has never condoned or encouraged me to have sex with anyone. “I know you had a crush on him in high school, and he’s still single.”
“Mom!” I feel my cheeks heat in front of Max and my brother. “My divorce isn’t even finalized. I’m going celibate anyway, since no one has any interest in a busy single mother unless they get to tap my bank account too.” I feel anger rise again with my stupidity at not doing a prenup. “I literally cannotaffordto put my heart on the line again.”
“You’re still young, half pint.” She wiggles her eyebrows. Will I ever outgrow this name? “Max,” my mother continues, “our previous marketer, Katherine, will be there as well. She usually attends solo.” Since when is mom a matchmaker?
Katherine.The one woman who has tried to take over my life and replace me the past few years. Her marketing work is sloppy and her recent mess up almost ruined the Aspen project months back. It was then Adam begged me to return so he wouldn’t have to step in and clean up her messes anymore. Katherine and I look similar, and in a weird sick way, she channels our slight resemblance to feed her ego in desperatelybecomingme.
Adam and I share a look before we burst into laughter at the mention of Katherine. As if Max would give her even a passing glance. Max and my mother stare at us, confused, waiting for our response.
“Sorry,” I begin. “For one, Katherine is a brunette. Since when have we ever seen Max with one of those?”
“And Katherine is too much of a bold bitch.” Adam pauses. “Although,stick up assseems to be his type to tame, she has no curves. Foreign accents and curves are his go-to.” Max shrugs and nods in agreement with my brother.
Minus my curves, there is nothing else that could ever spike Max’s interest in me. And even then, my curves were on full display in expensive lingerie and he ignored me.
“I have never met this woman and don’t care to, but can we all shut up?” Max turns to me. “Kelsie and I will uphold self-respecting standards. We will make our rounds, and after her two flutes of champagne, we can dip out and still have time for a quick workout.”
“Deal.” But who works out after two flutes of alcohol? “Now, let’s go, because Lauren is off work and probably wondering where we all are.” We say goodbye to the kids, and the three of us head down to my place.
“I still can’t believe you take the stairs all the time.” Adam shakes his head as we enter my penthouse.
“I especially take them when I’m with Max. I won’t risk getting trapped in the elevator athirdtime.” I was fifteen the second time he and I got stuck, and it was just as frightening.
“Hey, Kelsie,” Lauren greets. “I made us these tropical gin shots I saw online.” She smiles, standing by my kitchen island in her usual leggings and flowy tank top. “Tell me what you think of these.”
I shoot the shot, expecting to wince. “Did you put any gin in this?” She’s not a bartender or even much of a drinker.
“Oh, you bet your pretty ass I did.” She giggles. “You’ll sleep really well tonight. But I suggest we don’t take more than three.”
My brother dishes out his specialty lasagna, and we fall into small talk as we eat. By the time Lauren and I take our third shots that evening, the music is on. Adam and Max sit on the couch, tipping back their beers, trying to talk over our music, and our giggling as we go about dancing. I haven’t let loose and had fun like this since university. Lauren is only twenty-five, and I’m thankful for her spunky, youthful influence. The song “Cyclone” comes on and takes me back to the rare times I did drop my books and hit up a club.
“Do you know this one?” I ask Lauren, as her eyes light up.
“I’m notthatmuch younger than you.” She laughs, attempting to roll her hips. “This is one of my favorite songs.” Her tall, lanky stature doesn’t give her much help to pop her ass the way she wants to.
“Sit into it, Lauren. Like this,” I show her by bending my knees and sitting into my hips a bit more. I match the rhythm of the music and roll my hips the way my past dance teacher demanded, while keeping my upper body still. I wasn’t quite going for Shakira, but I’m not complaining.
“Damn, girl!” Lauren shouts over the music, drawing the attention of the guys. “Teach me how to move like that. You must have left every guy speechless if you rode them with those hips.” She’s not one for drinking and clearly had three too many.
“You’re drunk.” I laugh and know I’m on the brink of being tipsy-drunk myself. The alcohol and Lauren encourage me to put more effort into my dancing.
“Shorty got hips, shorty got ass…”Lauren sings, and I’m loving this version of her. “Pussy in his face, he drops it down—”The music stops as Adam stands, shaking his head.