Page 10 of Second Dance
Mia’s beside herself. Sounds like they knew exactly how risky it was to do what they did but they felt strongly it would help us.
Gillian
Put the links to your profiles in here. I want to see them. Then we should take them all down.
Lila
We can “hide” them for now. I mean, just in case we decide to try the app for real sometime.
Delphine
Have you lost your mind?
Lila
Years ago.
The Pelican Tavern was our local watering hole, known for craft beers and the best burgers in town. It was the kind of place one would expect in a sleepy beach town, all dark wood and a gleaming bar. The owner was a local and basically retired. Just recently he’d hired a new bartender to take his place. Althoughas a community we resisted change, we’d made an exception for his replacement. Hunter Sloan was a hunky, brooding type that I imagined had a checkered past. Not that we would know. He was polite, but not friendly, and certainly not talkative. Someone had told me he was rumored to have once been a musician but lived with some reclusive rich guy who had been his friend since childhood. How anyone knew this, or if it was even true, I couldn’t say. Regardless, the ladies and I didn’t mind admiring his wide shoulders and bad boy persona. The perfect example of something we could look at but not touch. Talk about a disaster of a choice in men. Or, that was my perception anyway.
The five of us had been meeting up at The Pelican since the kids were in kindergarten. A lot had changed since then. Delphine’s husband died. Esme and Lila both got divorced. We were all single mothers to children in the same grade. Bonded since the boohoo coffee hour the PTA had hosted on the first day we dropped the kids off at school.
Although different in many ways, the five of us had enough interests in common that we’d fallen into an easy friendship. They were as important to me as family. Like sisters, connected by love instead of blood. We shared freely with one another about every aspect of our lives, gave support when needed, and also laughed our heads off on a regular basis. And now we had yet another thing in common. Our children had conspired against us.
When I arrived at The Pelican, Delphine and Seraphina were already sitting in our usual booth in the corner. Esme brought a pitcher of beer to the table, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Lila followed closely behind with five mugs.
Once we were all settled, we got right into it.
“Where do we even start?” Delphine smoothed her crisp, white blouse—she must have come straight from the gallery, still in her tailored navy trousers. “They’ve violated so many levels oftrust, it’s impossible for me to even get my head around it. What they’ve done is highly inappropriate, not to mention potentially dangerous. They put our photos up. This is a small town. Pretty much everyone knows us.”
“I know,” I said. “Between my Pilates classes and all the children who take ballet at my studio, I know half the people in Willet Cove. Anyone on that app can see us.”
“Not to sound awful, but I’m a semi-famous person.” Seraphina tugged on her hoop earring, her copper hair threatening to escape from where she’d piled it high on top of her head. “Now I’m out there for the world to see on the internet. My agent will be justifiably angry if she finds out. I have a certain image, and going on a dating site is not it.”
“Why would she care?” Esme asked, wiping foam from her upper lip. She’d clearly been at her flower shop before heading over for dinner. She wore a pair of jean shorts and a tank that flattered her slim, athletic frame. “I mean, what's your image exactly?”
Seraphina’s lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers still fiddling with her earring. “Confident, glamorous, always in control. She says readers don’t want to think about the woman behind the books eating leftover Chinese food in sweatpants or fumbling around on a dating app. My agent says every public appearance, every social media post, every interview—it’s all part of the brand. Two of those photos he put up were very personal. Not ones I want shared.”
Esme snorted. Onlyshecould make it seem adorable. “That’s ridiculous. If anything, it makes you more relatable.”
“Well, I had him take it down, regardless,” Seraphina said, straightening the collar of her striped boatneck top. “I’ve never been so angry with him.”
I slid my phone across the table, where I’d loaded the app and logged into my account to make the profile “hidden.” “Minehas photos of me teaching Pilates. Wearing practically nothing. It’s embarrassing.”
Lila leaned forward, the muted florals of her wrap dress catching the light from the window. “You look amazing in that photo.”
“I agree,” Esme said peering at my phone. “You should show that body off.”
“I know we’re all angry and mortified,” Lila said. “But the kids were just trying to help us. They worry.”
“Which I hate,” Seraphina said. “We’re adult women without a need for a man to rescue us.”
“I don’t think they want us rescued, given what they say in the profiles,” Lila said. “They were clear about the kind of man we would want.”
“I mean, I personally love what Tyler wrote about you,” Esme said. “‘Not every redhead is feisty.’ And then schools everyone on how hard it is to write a romance novel. I kind of cheered a little when I saw it. It’s obvious how proud he is of you. And rightly so.”
“That was sort of funny,” Seraphina said. “Except that I was supposed to have written it, which makes me sound kind of arrogant.”
“People will think it’s funny,” Lila said.
