Page 72 of Breaking Free

“Felicity! She’s new,” a petite blonde across from her scolded. “Do not inundate her with a flood of her man’s past peccadilloes. It’s the first night. You’ll scare her off.”

“Pecca what?” a few of them inquired, causing the rest to burst into laughter.

Piper knew what the word meant, and she was a hard pass. No way did she want to hear about Tristan’s past flings, possibly with some of the women sitting at the table.

“What did I tell you?” Val raised her glass. “They’re two sheets to the wind coming up on three after this pitcher. You’re likely to hear anything, but they’re harmless.”

“I’m not!” Felicity contradicted. “I demand details.”

“Why? To live vicariously through Piper?” a woman asked from the far end of the table.

It caught her off guard because, for the life of her, she couldn’t recall her being there during the introductions.

“Damn straight! Or did you not hear me say epic fail?” Felicity’s gaze shifted to Piper. There was a shift in her demeanor, with less bravado and an undertone of apology, suggesting that she had taken some of the criticism to heart. “I volunteered for a shibari demonstration about a year back. It was out of this world amazing. But being trussed up like a Christmas goose with a buzzing thing against my cooch was as far as it went. Promise.”

A forty-something woman who was such a dead ringer for Kim Kardashian, Piper had to do a double take to make sure she wasn’t, sighed. “That hardly sounds like a fail, dear Felicity. Any time I get a big O, even one mechanically induced, at my age, is an epic win.”

Titters of laughter erupted around the table, except for Felicity. Piper leaned forward to reassure her. “No worries, really. You don’t have to explain. We’re not exactly what I’d call together.”

Seated next to her, Esme overheard. “What would you call it?”

“Our status is complicated. Can I leave it at that?”

“No!” all of them chorused.

All except Val, who seemed to be the leader. “Yes, she can. Haven’t you all learned to butt out yet? What’s the rule?”

“No matchmaking?” the petite blonde grumbled.

“But we’re not,” Felicity insisted. “We’re investigating.”

“Why don’t we refrain from that, too? We already perform thorough security screenings on all our potential new members.” The new arrival who joined their discussion possessed anunmistakable air of authority and was none other than Master Eric. When Val smiled up at him, he leaned down and kissed her. Tongues were involved, it looked smoldering, and went on for a while.

When he straightened, he pulled Val to her feet and addressed the dreamy-eyed onlookers at the table. “Ladies, remember that gossiping is frowned upon just as much as matchmaking. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m stealing my wife away for a moment.”

The women watched as he walked away, several of them sighing longingly. They then resumed their conversation about people Piper didn’t know and topics that didn’t involve her. With nothing to contribute, she sat in silence, her drink untouched.

“Are you also a teetotaler?” Esme asked, sliding into Val’s empty chair, which was when Piper noticed she was very pregnant.

“To be honest, I don’t care for tequila. I’ll drink a glass of wine after work, but that’s my limit.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

“I’m an actress and a notary.”

“How diverse,” Esme observed, smiling.

Piper liked her instantly. “Isn’t it, though? A girl’s gotta pay the bills.”

“Have you been in anything I’d know?”

“Have you seen the commercial for laundry detergent where the dog hauls the woman through a ginormous puddle of mud?”

Esme’s lilting laughter rang out. “That was you?”

“Yep. I’m guilty of getting my whites whiter and keeping my colors springtime fresh. I’m also working on a new series that should be out this fall.”

“How exciting!” She raised her glass, which looked like ice water. “Here’s to it being a tremendous success.”

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