passively follow anyone but me to Central Processing. I stopped myself. Was I jealous here, or what? Another thought occurred to me. What about Big Hoss? “Did Big Hoss have any marks on him?”
Hobbs blew out a put upon sigh. “ Nooooo .” He dragged the solitary syllable out to at least four. “Admit it, Jackie, Dawson is simply good.”
I did not want to talk about this anymore. “I have to go.” I grabbed my Birkin. This whole day was further proof that a woman’s true best friends were good bags and shoes. They never argued or cheated, required no feedings or walks. What more could a woman want?
“See you tomorrow,” I muttered as I stalked past my assistant. I didn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the smartass smirk that no doubt hung on his beaming face. I’d had my fill for the day. I was tired and confused, with trouble looming on all fronts, past, present and future.
I was halfway to the door when he stopped me. “I’ll take care of Dawson’s personnel forms first thing in the morning and bring him up to speed on how we do things here.”
I hesitated. “Fine. G’night.” Before I could fully escape, he had to throw one more wrench in my plans.
“Don’t forget the girls come to your place tonight.”
Any hope of salvaging the rest of this day deflated like a spent party balloon.
Monday night.
Girls’ night.
Dinner, movies and weekly confessional. Too late to bail in view of the fact that I was the hostess.
The perfect ending to the perfectly awful day.
Great sex. Long lost lovers. And a hot new investigator who spelled trouble.
All the ingredients of a new reality series.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I managed to shower and change before seven. Things would have been cool then if I hadn’t checked out my reflection from behind. Was it my imagination or was my ass getting wider?
Middle age spread.
I shuddered as the term reverberated through me. That sucked. Along with failing vision, a woman’s ass had to get as wide as a linebacker’s shoulders. The vision situation you could hide with contacts. But no amount of black fabric would conceal an ass this inordinately huge.
My dejected sigh echoed hollowly in the silent room. Well, these were my favorite black low rider stretch jeans and God knew I loved this turquoise Lycra racer back top. I could move as well as look sexy...at least that’s what I’d thought when I put them on. If the True Religion jeans didn’t do the trick, nothing would.
Tonight I felt like a fat, old, divorced lady—with a kid in law school. Hot flashes would start any minute. Exasperation leaked out of me. And mood swings would likely be next.
I frowned at my reflection. What happened to forty-five and loving it? Where was that old I’ve still got it feeling now? I didn’t really look any different than I had this morning. Couldn’t possibly have gained more than a pound since then. My vision hadn’t suddenly gone down hill between waking up and Hobbs shoving those damned reading glasses at me.
The only difference was that I no longer had a man in my life. Hobbs didn’t count. He was my assistant, my buddy. Besides, he was gay. More female than me in ways I didn’t want to think about. And Dawson, well he was supposed to be my employee, so he wasn’t supposed to count either. Why must a woman measure her worth in terms of the man in her life?
What was wrong with being sexy, sassy, intelligent and just you? Single and satisfied. Why did there have to be an us or a him to make me feel complete? It wasn’t fair.
I needed potato chips and thick, creamy chocolate. I glanced at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. I had time. The girls would wait while I made a quick trip to the SafeWay. Anything to drag me out of this blue funk.
Luckily the doorbell chimed just then,
Hobbs blew out a put upon sigh. “ Nooooo .” He dragged the solitary syllable out to at least four. “Admit it, Jackie, Dawson is simply good.”
I did not want to talk about this anymore. “I have to go.” I grabbed my Birkin. This whole day was further proof that a woman’s true best friends were good bags and shoes. They never argued or cheated, required no feedings or walks. What more could a woman want?
“See you tomorrow,” I muttered as I stalked past my assistant. I didn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the smartass smirk that no doubt hung on his beaming face. I’d had my fill for the day. I was tired and confused, with trouble looming on all fronts, past, present and future.
I was halfway to the door when he stopped me. “I’ll take care of Dawson’s personnel forms first thing in the morning and bring him up to speed on how we do things here.”
I hesitated. “Fine. G’night.” Before I could fully escape, he had to throw one more wrench in my plans.
“Don’t forget the girls come to your place tonight.”
Any hope of salvaging the rest of this day deflated like a spent party balloon.
Monday night.
Girls’ night.
Dinner, movies and weekly confessional. Too late to bail in view of the fact that I was the hostess.
The perfect ending to the perfectly awful day.
Great sex. Long lost lovers. And a hot new investigator who spelled trouble.
All the ingredients of a new reality series.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I managed to shower and change before seven. Things would have been cool then if I hadn’t checked out my reflection from behind. Was it my imagination or was my ass getting wider?
Middle age spread.
I shuddered as the term reverberated through me. That sucked. Along with failing vision, a woman’s ass had to get as wide as a linebacker’s shoulders. The vision situation you could hide with contacts. But no amount of black fabric would conceal an ass this inordinately huge.
My dejected sigh echoed hollowly in the silent room. Well, these were my favorite black low rider stretch jeans and God knew I loved this turquoise Lycra racer back top. I could move as well as look sexy...at least that’s what I’d thought when I put them on. If the True Religion jeans didn’t do the trick, nothing would.
Tonight I felt like a fat, old, divorced lady—with a kid in law school. Hot flashes would start any minute. Exasperation leaked out of me. And mood swings would likely be next.
I frowned at my reflection. What happened to forty-five and loving it? Where was that old I’ve still got it feeling now? I didn’t really look any different than I had this morning. Couldn’t possibly have gained more than a pound since then. My vision hadn’t suddenly gone down hill between waking up and Hobbs shoving those damned reading glasses at me.
The only difference was that I no longer had a man in my life. Hobbs didn’t count. He was my assistant, my buddy. Besides, he was gay. More female than me in ways I didn’t want to think about. And Dawson, well he was supposed to be my employee, so he wasn’t supposed to count either. Why must a woman measure her worth in terms of the man in her life?
What was wrong with being sexy, sassy, intelligent and just you? Single and satisfied. Why did there have to be an us or a him to make me feel complete? It wasn’t fair.
I needed potato chips and thick, creamy chocolate. I glanced at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. I had time. The girls would wait while I made a quick trip to the SafeWay. Anything to drag me out of this blue funk.
Luckily the doorbell chimed just then,
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