“In Augusta?” she said. “Nah. I already called my car. He’ll be here in an hour.”

“Call him back. Look, I can take off tomorrow, too,” I insisted, “since I’m on a roll. And we can spend one more day together.” I reached out and lifted her hand with the chipped nail. “Get our nails done. It’s my treat. It’s the least I can do.”

“You think so?”

“I insist! We have to. Lord knows how long it’s been since I’ve gotten a manicure and I’m sure my coworker can handle the lazy Tuesday crowd without me.”

“But it won’t be too much?”

I grabbed her cell phone off of the counter.

“Call the driver. No pickup tonight. We’ll let him know when you’re ready to go home.”

Sasha’s driver wasn’t too happy about her canceling the call. He was already halfway to Augusta and cursed her out in Spanish . . . and French . . . and a few other words we decided were Italian as we reenacted the phone call a dozen times on the twins’ old swing set in the backyard.

“I’ll have you fired!” I said, impersonating the dramatic, hard-nosed tone Sasha used on the phone.

“I didn’t say it like that?” Sasha hollered like we were on a school yard. She took a sip of her wine and stood up in front of her swing as if she was on a stage. “I said,” she started, “You, sir, are fired!”

I almost spit out my wine.

“You didn’t say it like that,” I said. “You can’t fire him and I know you didn’t call him sir!” I laughed and I felt that laugh just shake through my body. My eyes were heavy, but the night was so bright around me. Even in the dark, the grass was this emerald green. The sky, oh, the sky looked like the ocean with diamonds floating all around in it. And it wasn’t until I heard Sasha laughing at me that I realized that I’d said all of this aloud.

“Girl, I think you need more wine,” she said, getting the bottle from a little basket we brought outside.

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling my body sway with the breeze . . . or the swing. “I don’t want to get too drunk! The mister won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t like it when you drink?”

“No . . .” I took a swig of the wine she’d just poured into my glass. “He doesn’t like me!”

“Shhh,” Sasha whispered.

As I drank, I felt two little pebbles grinding in my teeth and spit them out. I figured dirt had somehow snuck into the glass. I took another sip of the red wine and again it was a little grainy.

“What do you mean, he doesn’t like you?” Sasha asked.

“We don’t have sex anymore,” I blurted out. “No sex. No dice. He doesn’t like me. That simple!” I looked down at the glass.

“Is it just me or does this wine have rocks in it?”

“It’s red wine, silly,” Sasha said. “That’s just sediment from when they made it. It happens with expensive bottles.”

“Oh,” I held up the glass and saw little pieces of white flecks floating in the bottom. “Sediment!” I exclaimed and took another sip.

“Why do you think he doesn’t touch you?” Sasha said, coming over and standing by my swing.

“I told you,” I rattled. “Borrriinnng. I’m boring. That’s it. He doesn’t even look at me anymore. Not how he looks at you.”

“What?” Sasha chortled a bit. “And how is that?”

“Come on; you know you’re beautiful. Your eyes. Your hair. The way you hold your breasts out.” I sat up in the swing and poked my breasts out, but then I had to wrap my free arm around the chain to stop from falling. “You’re smart and funny. Men just love you.”

I nearly dropped my glass, but Sasha steadied it in my hand.

“Ever think of spicing it up?”

“What? Like you said before? Having a threesome or something? I told you he doesn’t like that kind of stuff.”

Tags: Grace Octavia Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net