Page 26 of Daring Lance

“For crying out loud, who else could Lance be talking about but you?” Courtney, who had been focused on draining her margarita in one long slurp, had finally come up for air and joined in the conversation. Her last few words came out as a slur, attesting to the fact that the Cuervo Gold had done its job.

“Talking about? What do you mean, Courtney? I don’t understand. What was Lance talking about at the pool?”

Ruby sighed as she looked longingly at the empty plate that until a few minutes ago had been stacked with brownies. “Yes, at the pool on Tuesday, dear, when the new renter from 1406 hit on him. What do you think we’ve been trying to tell you?”

“She’s a tradeshow model. At auto shows, boat shows, she parades around in beautiful clothes while posing in front of merchandise at conventions.” Bernadette paused to pour herself another drink, which wasn’t easy as the pitcher had to weigh almost as much as she did. “I rented the apartment to her last week. Paid up front in cash for six months. My kind of tenant.”

Willow looked at each of the women in alarm. A tradeshow model had hit on Lance at the pool on Tuesday? Why hadn’t he mentioned it to her? On second thought, why would he? In addition to her burning cheeks, her heartbeat now accelerated to overdrive. “What exactly did he say to the new tenant?” She rubbed her hand across her burning cheeks.

“She asked him up to her place for a drink. Girl must be used to getting what she wants as she sure was persistent!” Lily clucked her tongue three times as Willow decided to have a small sip of her margarita. She moved her previously discarded glass back in front of her.

“If I were six-foot tall and most of it was legs, I’d make sure I got what and who I wanted, too!” added Ruby with an intoxicated giggle.

Bernadette laughed and hit the table with her palm, leaving Willow to wonder if she hadn’t broken some of the bones. “Goodness, what adventures we would have had with those legs. Darn tootin’ shame the good Lord didn’t see it the same way.” Each of the women, with the exception of Willow, agreed with her before Bernadette continued. “Anyway, after politely refusing her twice, Lance finally told her that he didn’t think his girlfriend would appreciate him accepting her offer, nor would he do that to someone he loved. Walked out of the pool area in a huff, that girl did, while the rest of us had a good laugh.”

“Goodness, dear, if you have a man loving you like our young Lance, you best make sure your lingerie is up to snuff.” Lily swiped some of the salt from the rim of her glass with her tongue. “My Lancelot collection won’t be out for another three months, but I have plenty of sets that will keep your bed sheets on fire. I’m going to order you our new black sheer demi bra and matching thong set. Why, Ruby will be setting up those college funds for your children in no time!”

Willow’s mouth gaped open, and she only realized it once four set of eyes, each behind glasses that were nearly a quarter inch thick, stared back at her. She had been so thrilled to hear that Lance rejected the woman that she forgot that she had an audience seated around her. She quickly reunited her lips and smiled at the women. Hopefully, with any luck, they would all be too intoxicated, including herself, to remember their conversation the next day. She picked up the pitcher, once again shocked that Bernadette was able to lift it off the table. “Anyone for another drink?”

* * *

“Willow,sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you have a migraine?”

Willow groaned into one of the many throw pillows that adorned the couch. Her brain felt as if it were going to explode, her eyes actually ached, and she had heartburn from the anchovy and pineapple pizza the brigade of elderly women insisted they order for lunch. Oh, who was she kidding? Those four women weren’t elderly at all. They could probably drink Lance and his friends under the table while conning them out of all of their cash over a game of poker. “I’m dying. Please go away.”

Lance rubbed the back of her neck, and she realized it actually felt good. When she had tried to do it to herself an hour ago, it felt rather like small little knifes sticking into the base of her skull. “Wait! Don’t go. Keep rubbing my neck, please,” she was able to choke out in little more than a whisper.

“Can I get you some aspirin? Or a glass of water?”

Willow moaned. “I’ve already had three aspirin, and the thought of drinking anything right now makes me want to gag.”

Lance’s hand stopped moving against her skin. “Willow, are you hungover?”

She thought about lying and then realized there was no way she would ever get away with it. The women had probably already shared the news of their impromptu party in the condo newsletter or, at the very least, posted it on Instagram. “Bernadette and her merry band of margarita maidens stopped by today.”

“For Happy Hour?”

“For brunch. We had margaritas at ten in the morning, and I don’t think my place was their first stop of the day.” Willow slipped the pillow from over her face and dared to slowly turn her head and open one eye. “Do you know, I think they ate an entire plate of brownies laced with pot today?”

“Sounds about right.”

Willow closed her one open eye. Lance had turned on the light, and the brightness shot through her skull like a bullet. “And did you know that they plan on babysitting Luke and Madison’s children?”

“Madison is pregnant?”

Willow couldn’t even risk shaking her head for fear it might explode off of her shoulders. “No. And for their sake, I hope she isn’t until they can secure different childcare.”

“I bet the ladies would do it for free. Luke and Madison would be crazy to pass up that offer.”

Despite the pain, she bolted her eyes wide open. “Are you serious?”

Lance threw his head back and laughed. Even though the noise caused shocks of pain to her brain, she couldn’t help but think of how she loved hearing the sound of his voice, especially when he whispered into her ear when he made love to her, telling her over and over that he loved her. He obviously didn’t love her enough to give up his own wanderlust, but dwelling on that fact only caused her head and heart to ache.

“Why don’t I make you something simple to eat? Perhaps grilled cheese sandwiches? Grease typically feels good when you have a hangover.”

Willow cracked a smile, the small effort causing a bolt of pain to shoot throughout her tequila damaged skull, a reminder to never answer her door again before noon. “And it’s the only thing you know how to make that involves an appliance.”

“That too.” He massaged her shoulders, and Willow relaxed further into the couch cushions.

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