All the Way (Romancing Manhattan 1)

“Hey baby,” he says, but I can tell he’s in a hurry.

“Hi,” I reply, and hold the phone closer to my ear. “Are you busy?”

“I’m trying to stay busy so I can wrap this up quickly and get home to you,” he says, making me smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you’d look into something for me regarding my dad’s estate.”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“I got a call from Kyle this morning. He says he put in a request with the trust for rehab, and I just want to find out if that’s true.”

“I’ll make some calls and let you know.”

“No huge rush, I know you’re busy. But yeah, when you have time, I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem. Are you okay after that call?”

“It was weird,” I reply honestly, and rub my hand over my face. “But I’m fine.”

“What are your plans for tonight?”

“I think I’m going to have Sasha over for dinner, and then early to bed. I have an early class tomorrow.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll call you when I’m finished with meetings this evening.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

“Later.”

I hang up and walk into the bathroom, start the shower, and then send Sasha a text.

Wanna come over for dinner in a couple of hours? I’ll make you fish tacos.

I step under the hot stream and tip my head back to wet my hair. Sasha replies right away.

Hell yes. I’ll bring the tequila.

I snort out a laugh. See you soon.

“So where is Finn again?” Sasha asks a few hours later as we devour our fish tacos.

“Miami,” I reply. “Something for work. And it sucks because he comes home tomorrow and then I leave the next day for L.A., so I only get to see him for a little bit.”

“That’s kind of sweet and pathetic, all at the same time.”

I laugh and pour us each our second shot of tequila. I reach for a slice of lime, sprinkle salt on my hand, lick it and take the shot, then shove the lime in my mouth and wince.

“It’s so bad that it’s good.” I smack my lips together and then take another bite of my taco. “And for the record, these are fairly healthy. I only put a little cheese on them.”

“And they’re delicious. I need to learn to cook like this.” She takes a bite. “I still haven’t met him, by the way.”

“Finn?”

“No, Santa Claus. Of course Finn.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Our schedules are all wonky. We’ll set up a time, I promise.”

“Did you just say wonky?” She covers her mouth with her hand and snorts. “Wonky.”

“How are we buzzed after two shots?”

“Because we’re little and we don’t drink much,” she says. “But I don’t care. We haven’t done this in forever.”

“Because tequila has a lot of calories,” I remind her.

“Stop taking away the fun in this,” she says with a frown, and holds her shot glass out for more. “I’ll take an extra class this week.”

“Good idea.” We clink our glasses together and drink the shot. “So, speaking of love lives, how’s yours going?”

“I don’t have a love life,” she replies, frowning. “I have a work life. And a fuck life.”

I snort. “A fuck life can be fun, as long as you’re being careful.”

“Yes, Mom, I’m being careful.”

“I’m the mom? You’re the one who called me every single day after the fire to make sure I was taking it easy and doing what the doctor told me to.”

“So we’re both moms,” she says with a shrug. “And yes, I’m careful. I’m on the pill and I make everyone suit up. Safety first.”

“Cheers to that,” I say, and we take another shot. “Do I know the fuck life?”

“Probably. Jeremy Coolidge.” I feel my eyes go wide. “What? If you tell me you’ve also fucked him, I might get creeped out.”

“No, I never fucked him, I just didn’t think he was your type.”

“He’s not.” She picks at her taco. “I mean, he is physically my type. He’s hot.”

“He has a good body,” I concede. “And his face isn’t bad.”

“It’s usually dark, so his face doesn’t concern me. And yes, he has an ego the size of Manhattan, but I don’t have to like him. I just have to like the sex.”

“Is it bad that I think that’s kind of sad?”

“It’s not sad. It’s me getting laid on a semiregular basis. I don’t have time for a relationship, Lon. You know that.”

“Yeah, it’s rough to have a relationship in this business.”

“Exactly. And this way we both know the score. And the score is, we both score.”

Sasha and I snort with laughter, we’re snorting a lot tonight, and clink our glasses again.

“Cheers to scoring,” I reply, and wiggle my eyebrows. “Scoring regularly is nice.”

“So Finn’s good in bed.”

I just nod and take a drink of water. I am tipsy.

“Like, porn-star good?”

“How would I know if he’s porn-star good?”