from downtown and it is.”
“You’re just lazy, Heifer,” Brandi said, giving her friend a wide grin.
“Call me what you want, but your tail can get down here in twenty; it takes an hour the other way around.”
Brandi reached out, scooping up the blue glass paperweight globe in her hand. “Well, I haven’t asked for any nookie, and now I’m sitting home brewing like a bitch in heat while that bastard’s out giving it to some other woman. I’m the only one respecting our vows. How fair is that?”
“Girl, you need to follow him to her house and beat that ass,” Avie said, propping her feet on the desk. “That woman knows he’s married.”
“You know, I’m not so sure about that,” Brandi replied, tossing the globe back and forth in her hands, then casting a cursory glance at her friend’s feet. “And why do you get to do that?”
“Because it’s my damn office,” Avie replied with a little shake of her shoulders. “I can drop my drawers and take a crap right on the wood and nobody can tell me different.”
“Might lose a few clients, though.”
Avie shrugged as she grinned. “Yeah, there is that.” Her hazel eyes followed the trail of her favorite paperweight from one of Brandi’s hands to the other and back.
“Since we’ve expanded and moved the business, he spends so much time away from home that he could probably pull off having more than one woman. The only proof he has that he’s doing what he says is that new accounts are cropping up—and not just in Chicago.”
Avie reached out, snatching the globe from mid-air and setting it safely back on its perch.
“So I’m not as angry with her—he probably lied to her, too. If there’s any place my anger should be directed, it’s at him for not being satisfied with what he has, or at myself for putting up with this far longer than necessary.”
The door opened and Avie’s teenage apprentice secretary brought in two Corner Bakery box lunches. She thanked the girl before passing one to Brandi. “I thought by now he’d change and get over his midlife crisis.”
“Girl, he hasn’t even made it to midlife yet.” Brandi sighed, then looked down at the tan-and-black cardboard box in her hands. “And trust you to be cheap on lunch. Box lunches.”
“You can complain or you can watch me eat yours, too.”
Brandi snatched the box from Avie’s fingers, knowing her friend would make good on the threat and wouldn’t gain a single pound. God just wasn’t fair with this metabolism crap. Brandi could sniff a piece of German chocolate cake through a closed refrigerator door and gain a pound.
She placed her lunch on the corner of the desk and began pacing theroom. “I’ve been silent and it’s been almost six months since he started with this woman.” Brandi turned her back to Avie and gazed out on the foggy view of the Chicago River. “You know, I’m through acting like the content little wife. I’ve done everything a wife should, but Vernon’s still dipping his stick somewhere else.”
“Time to make some changes?”
“No lie,” Brandi said with a nod. “I certainly don’t want any more of his used dick.”
Avie took a big bite out of her chicken pesto sandwich and scribbled a few notes. “You also shouldn’t leave the marriage without some green-and-white tissue to wipe your tears on—”
“Yeah, the crisp kind that comes in several denominations,” Brandi said, folding her fingers as though she held a stack of cash inside. “The
large
ones.”
“Damn straight,” Avie said, perking up. “How do you want to pull this off? You know I’m not in for playing Mrs. Nice.”
Brandi sat back down in the chair, popping open the lunch box. “I’m not sure. I don’t want the girls to suffer.”
“You mean no more than they already have?”
She had a point. A really good one, too. When was the last time Vernon did something special with them? He had taken them to a client’s house a couple of times—a Mrs.
“You’re just lazy, Heifer,” Brandi said, giving her friend a wide grin.
“Call me what you want, but your tail can get down here in twenty; it takes an hour the other way around.”
Brandi reached out, scooping up the blue glass paperweight globe in her hand. “Well, I haven’t asked for any nookie, and now I’m sitting home brewing like a bitch in heat while that bastard’s out giving it to some other woman. I’m the only one respecting our vows. How fair is that?”
“Girl, you need to follow him to her house and beat that ass,” Avie said, propping her feet on the desk. “That woman knows he’s married.”
“You know, I’m not so sure about that,” Brandi replied, tossing the globe back and forth in her hands, then casting a cursory glance at her friend’s feet. “And why do you get to do that?”
“Because it’s my damn office,” Avie replied with a little shake of her shoulders. “I can drop my drawers and take a crap right on the wood and nobody can tell me different.”
“Might lose a few clients, though.”
Avie shrugged as she grinned. “Yeah, there is that.” Her hazel eyes followed the trail of her favorite paperweight from one of Brandi’s hands to the other and back.
“Since we’ve expanded and moved the business, he spends so much time away from home that he could probably pull off having more than one woman. The only proof he has that he’s doing what he says is that new accounts are cropping up—and not just in Chicago.”
Avie reached out, snatching the globe from mid-air and setting it safely back on its perch.
“So I’m not as angry with her—he probably lied to her, too. If there’s any place my anger should be directed, it’s at him for not being satisfied with what he has, or at myself for putting up with this far longer than necessary.”
The door opened and Avie’s teenage apprentice secretary brought in two Corner Bakery box lunches. She thanked the girl before passing one to Brandi. “I thought by now he’d change and get over his midlife crisis.”
“Girl, he hasn’t even made it to midlife yet.” Brandi sighed, then looked down at the tan-and-black cardboard box in her hands. “And trust you to be cheap on lunch. Box lunches.”
“You can complain or you can watch me eat yours, too.”
Brandi snatched the box from Avie’s fingers, knowing her friend would make good on the threat and wouldn’t gain a single pound. God just wasn’t fair with this metabolism crap. Brandi could sniff a piece of German chocolate cake through a closed refrigerator door and gain a pound.
She placed her lunch on the corner of the desk and began pacing theroom. “I’ve been silent and it’s been almost six months since he started with this woman.” Brandi turned her back to Avie and gazed out on the foggy view of the Chicago River. “You know, I’m through acting like the content little wife. I’ve done everything a wife should, but Vernon’s still dipping his stick somewhere else.”
“Time to make some changes?”
“No lie,” Brandi said with a nod. “I certainly don’t want any more of his used dick.”
Avie took a big bite out of her chicken pesto sandwich and scribbled a few notes. “You also shouldn’t leave the marriage without some green-and-white tissue to wipe your tears on—”
“Yeah, the crisp kind that comes in several denominations,” Brandi said, folding her fingers as though she held a stack of cash inside. “The
large
ones.”
“Damn straight,” Avie said, perking up. “How do you want to pull this off? You know I’m not in for playing Mrs. Nice.”
Brandi sat back down in the chair, popping open the lunch box. “I’m not sure. I don’t want the girls to suffer.”
“You mean no more than they already have?”
She had a point. A really good one, too. When was the last time Vernon did something special with them? He had taken them to a client’s house a couple of times—a Mrs.
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