Page 34 of Let It Breathe
“This is true.”
“So what do you really need?”
“Can you come with me to the Vineyard Grill to meet up with Eric and Sheila and some Bob guy they’re trying to fix me up with?”
Larissa was quiet for a moment. “Let me get this straight—you haven’t had a date in forever, and you’re bringing your cousin, your ex-husband, and his wife along on your first?”
“It’s not a date. I just didn’t know how to get out of it.”
“So you want me to be your wingman?”
“Pretty much. Come on, you know I’d do it for you.”
“Okay. But only if you let me do your hair. And dress you.”
Reese sighed. “Fine. Whatever. But I’m not dressing as a hooker.”
“Define hooker. Would a high-class escort be okay?”
“Just be here in ten minutes. Please?”
“You’ll owe me.”
Larissa clicked off and Reese went to take a shower. Twenty minutes later, she was sitting on a stool in front of her bedroom mirror while Larissa tortured her with a blow-dryer.
“Ouch,” Reese said.
“If you’d just hold still?—”
“How long is this going to take?”
“A few minutes more with the hair, and then I brought you something cute to put on.”
“Cute like pink bows, or cute like ‘I charge by the minute for a hand job’?”
Larissa turned off the dryer and smiled into the mirror. “I didn’t know you knew the word hand job.”
“Isn’t it technically two words?”
“It might be hyphenated. I’m not sure. I think blowjob is one word. Which are you planning to give Bob?”
“Neither, thanks. Are your clothes even going to fit me?”
“The shirt might be tight on you, but that’s the point. You could even stuff your bra if you really wanted to show off the girls.”
“I’m not showing off the girls. The girls are perfectly happy staying low key this evening.”
Larissa shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just thought you might like a little extra oomph.”
“Is there something about me that suggests I like oomph?”
“Get dressed,” Larissa said as she shoved a pile of clothes at her.
Reese dropped the bundle on the bed and shucked her top. As she peeled off her jeans, Larissa clucked her disapproval. “No. Just no.”
Reese looked up. “What?”
“You don’t wear a white cotton bra and gray satin panties on a date.”
