Page 43 of Stealing Second

“What about Rudy? Were you off the mark with him?” Fawna asks, as if Francesca is some man medium.

“His art is his style and swagger.” She looks back at me, wide-eyed, and whispers, “Don’t you dare tell her, but he’s into older women. It would crush her worse than her upcoming birthday.”

The big three O.

Francesca adds, “We need to find her next drug of choice—and quickly.”

“Why are you talking to me like we’re suddenly on the same team?” I glare at her. “You bitches knew and didn’t tell me.”

“What?” Fawna, who is leading this charge, calls back.

“Look, babe, you’re the doctor. You’re the one who’s going to give us the hard truths and comfort, and love us if, one day, we have to have a tit chopped off or something.”

“Dromida is a human doctor. She?—”

“You two are similar, but she’s been going through her own shit since COVID. You’d comfort us; she’d just shut off her emotions completely.”

Medical personnel were our heroes, our front line, fighting an enemy we knew nothing about. I’m sure few of them went into their field even considering, let alone being prepared for, that kind of war. But they are all now forever changed. I mean, we all are, but I can’t imagine what their nightmares entail.

Francesca snaps her fingers in my face. “Focus.”

“Focused.”

“Fawna was probably named after Sleeping Beauty’s fairy godmother, the one who wears green. Her name? F-A-U-N-A—different spelling, same Disney character. They’re both a bit flighty, but they’re the kindest and most sensitive kind of awesome you’d ever want to meet. Me? I’m the lawyer. I will lie for you, manipulate everyone around me, including my client, in order to get what’s best for them. And as your friend, I knew if you were aware he was a Jag, you’d have sunk down into yourself. So, you’re welcome for not spilling the tea all over the table on Saturday so that you wouldn’t have your walls up when he got you off.”

I gasp and feign disgust.

She throws her head back in a laugh. “You totally got off. Tell me: finger, tongue, or dick?”

“What is wrong with you?”

She laughs. “So many things, but this isn’t about me. Spill it.”

“I will not.”

She shrugs smugly. “I’ll assume you didn’t let him fuck you and guess you didn’t let him bury his face?—”

Thankfully, Fawna cuts her off. “I can’t hear you guys. No fair.”

9

Postgame

“You good with six?” AJ asks as I hold the door open for them.

“Yeah, of course.” I step in, paying next to no attention as I scan the bar.

“Six?” Nour grumbles. “That’s early as fuck.”

“It’s going to rain at noon, and we have to be at the stadium by three,” AJ reminds him.

“You two text me and let me know when you agree on a time. I’ll help unload your stuff.”

“Best landlord ever.” AJ nudges me with his shoulder.

“You two do know we don’t have a game tomorrow, right? Just an afternoon workout,” I remind them.

AJ shakes his head. “Fuck, then let’s do nine.”

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