Eventually Jewel recovered and said, “Really, none of this means anything. It doesn’t confirm I’m hooking up with Rogen or Vin.”
“Why wouldn’t you hook up with Rogen or Vin?” Scarlet demanded. “They are seriously hot!”
“And you did say—” Bayli started to remind her of their conversation during the plane’s last New York City pit stop.
“I was teasing!” Jewel cut her off.
There was a sparkle in Bayli’s eyes as she asked, “Were you just teasing, Jewel? About not being able to keep your hands off of them?”
“Whose side are you both on?”
“Yours, of course,” Scarlet scoffed. “But just so you know, word in the inner circle is that there’s a ménage unfolding at thirty-five thousand feet.”
“Oh, fuck!” Jewel blurted.
“Exactly.” Scarlet sipped, a twinkle in her eyes as well.
“Actually”—Bayli turned contemplative, her studious nature taking over—“ménage doesn’t necessarily have a sexual connotation. Its French origin was used to designate a household arrangement, usually the management of said household. Add the à trois and it’s a household of three. Only in later society did the term become more widely and popularly associated with a sexual threesome.”
She sat back, quite pleased with her dissertation.
A heartbeat later, Bayli jerked forward and exclaimed, “Oh, holy hell! You’re having a ménage à trois with Rogen and Vin! Contemporary meaning!”
“I—uh—” Jewel reached for her flute. Polished off her champagne. Grabbed the neck of the bottle from the chiller and poured some more.
“Fucking delicious!” Scarlet cooed.
And Jewel knew her friend wasn’t talking about the Dom.
* * *
“How was dinner with Bay and Scarlet?” Vin asked as they made their descent into River Cross around six the next morning.
Jewel had boarded the plane after her dinner with the girls, curled up on the couch, and promptly passed out. No questions asked. No answers supplied.
She really couldn’t rehash the grilling Bayli and Scarlet had given her over the ménage. Both women had been way, way too excited. Way too intrigued. And had admitted to being way too envious.
Though they were the least of her worries. Jewel knew her friends wouldn’t spread further rumors. Yes, Scarlet loved being looped into all the town’s gossip. But that was due to her investigative nature. She didn’t generate her own speculation, especially when it involved her best friends.
Bayli had burned with curiosity over how the whole sexual situation worked, and Jewel had dodged the bullets by ordering another bottle of champagne.
Now she was ridiculously hungover—and being interrogated by Vin.
Minutes before, she’d tidied up in the lavatory and changed her clothes. Now she pulled sunglasses from her laptop bag and slipped them on, the bright light streaming through the windows nearly frying her likely bloodshot eyes.
To Vin, she said, “We’ve collectively made an enemy.”
His brow furrowed. “Who? And why?”
Rogen tucked his iPhone into the front pocket of his jeans and joined the convo.
Jewel told them, “Holly McCormick has insinuated herself into mine, Bay’s, and Scarlet’s circle of friends. She’s letting them know that the three of us have had individual hookups and are currently traveling as a cozy trio.”
Rogen snorted.
Vin laughed. “Seriously?”
“I fail to see the humor in the situation,” she told them. “River Cross is a small community. The inner circle is only so strong. By now, the leaks have sprung.”