Read Cocktail Hour for Free Online Page B

and wanting to continue it.
    "Hello?" Chelsea said in her best come-hither breathy voice.
    “Hello,” a deep male voice said. “Don’t you sound delicious?”
    A thrill tickled up her spine before she could push it down. “Who is this?” But she knew. She knew that voice, that husky sound. She knew the type of things he said, the things that made her hot, weak, desperate. Still, even now.
    She stopped at the top of the steps. “Who is this?” she asked anyway, hoping she was wrong, another stupid part of her wishing she was right.
    “Don’t you know?”
    “John.”
    “Good girl. I knew I could count on you,” he said and chuckled.
    She felt something twist inside of her, as if he operated a giant invisible screwdriver and knew exactly how to use it on her, making her writhe with need for him. Then a flare of anger hit her. How dare he? “Aren’t you married now? To my best friend? Bianca, remember her? The mother of your son?”
    “Oh, yeah. Her. Well, she's the reason I’m calling.”
    “What? Is she okay?”
    “Relax. She’s fine. It’s just…”
    “What?” she asked, holding her breath in spite of herself.
    “I need to see you.”
    “No, really, what?”
    “It’s too important to talk about over the phone. What are you doing right now?”
    “I’m going out for drinks with your wife. And a couple of other friends. Didn’t you know?”
    He laughed, but he sounded sad. “I don’t know anything these days. I’ve made a mess of my life. And it’s all my fault.”
    Hearing the obvious misery in his voice, she weakened. Oh! John! How she had loved him. It had been wild, sweeping and intense. Their romance had lasted for three months - a season and it was spring. She had met parts of herself she hadn't known existed: the sensualist, the philosopher, the hungry child. She could still remember the scent of those long days in bed, the open window letting in bud-sweet air that mingled with their musk as they tumbled together again and again, his loving leaving her a mewling trembling mess.
    Coming back to the pavement on the driveway of the apartment building, she made herself breathe, stay calm. She would be in control this time. “I don’t know if I should see you. If you need to work things out with Bianca, you should talk to her.”
    “But that’s the thing. I can’t. I just need your advice. It’ll all be above-board, I promise. But you know her better than anyone.”
    She swallowed back the rising lump in her throat. She did. She was Bianca’s only close friend. Gorgeous headstrong Bianca usually made enemies when it came to women, not friends. And a part of Chelsea knew she shouldn’t have stayed friends with her, not after Bianca went after John. And stole him away. And married him. And had a beautiful baby boy by him. But she knew Bianca. She didn’t mean to hurt people. She was just so full of life, so passionate. She’d simply fallen uncontrollably in love with John. She couldn’t help it any more than the sky could stop being blue. That was how true love worked: it wasn’t fair. It just was itself, undeniable.
    Chelsea nodded and then said softly, “Yes. I do.”
    “Please. Just a drink? Later tonight, after you meet the girls? Wherever you want.”
    She looked down and nodded. Just one time. Help him. “Okay. Ten o'clock down the street at Bedford Grille. You know?”
    “Yes, I know where it is. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
    She shrugged, trying to fight the sudden electric excitement that was coursing through her and losing. “It’s okay. See you then.”
    She ended the call and stood in the parking lot staring at her phone, the cool spring breeze tossing her curls so that they tickled her face. What had she done? Worse: what was she about to do?
     

 
     
    Vodka Martini
     
    "Awesome! Okay! Bye!"
    Sharon watched Chelsea wiggle out of her office and shook her head. Why had she agreed? What was she thinking? Chelsea was sweet, but some hot new bar overcrowded with