“Lipstick,” she starts, lifting a finger, like she’s about to tick them off, but she’s generously leaving room for the class to chime in.
“Red Dahlia locked and loaded. Check!”
Immediately catching on, Chanel adds, “An LBD?”
“Yes!” Whit blusters with pride, lifting another triumphant finger. Then she pauses, her long fringe of eyelashes fluttering as she deepens her stare, subliminally willing us to say the last two Ls.
Tatiana, only half listening, doesn’t even bother looking up from her romance book while Chanel looks at Priscilla and me, seemingly content with her contribution.
“Louboutins?” Priscilla’s expression twists hopefully.
The disappointment on Whit’s face is palpable.
“While a great addition, they’re not essential…” She sighs and glares at us. “However, please tell me, what is a ‘road trip rendezvous’ withoutlingerieandlube?”
A collective groan falls over the four of us—mine, disrespectfully, louder than the rest.
“Ugh, come on, Whit. I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” Her perfectly micro-bladed and arched eyebrows scale her forehead. “Diva, you are a Southern debutante reinventing yourself post-divorce, daring to find love again—”
Love?
“Uh, okay, relax,” I interrupt, since clearly there’s been some confusion about what’s happening here. “No one said anything about love. Strong…like? Yes. Lust, absolutely.”There are some L-words for you.
Even though it feels completely wrong—crystal hunting and condoms don’t really pass the vibe check—I make a dramatic display of grabbing the bulk box and eyeing my divas as I shove it into my bag.
They’re hemming and hawing about love and “that’s how you prepare for a day trip, diva,” but I need them to focus.
“Lust,” I repeat, my voice booming with indignation.
The gesture lands about as hard as a feather. My divas don’t even hesitate to put me into my place.
“Baybee…” Chanel laughs, leaning into the camera. “I’m pretty surelustingover the same man since you were sixteen, decade detour or not—and spare us the denial—qualifies as something much deeper.”
“Again, stronglike. I just enjoy being with him.”And kissing him, and his magic fingersand tongue…
Jesus, help me.
They all hum their agreement, cosigning this damn ambush before Whit primps and postures, clearly preparing to deliver today’s sermon.
“And if what y’all share isn’t love…honey, I don’t want to know what is. So, to finish mysentence…” She pauses, reloading her rant. “I was going to say that you’redaringto find love again.”
Again, that woman and her puppet strings veer into the forefront of my mind, taunting me.Walk into my trap…
My heart kicks into overdrive.
But also, would we say I’m finding love? Isthislove? How could it be?
I’m barely dipping my toes back in the dating waters. Trying to reclaim my identity, bringing the old me back to the forefront, rediscovering the person I want to be—yes. And Corneliaisas diabolical as an antagonist gets. So are the Ellswood elite, the blogs, and all the bougie people who want a say in my life, though. Why does a road trip have tomeansomething so significant? Can’t Linc and I just enjoy each other’s company? And maybe take advantage of my condom surpluswithoutit turning into a quest for true love?
Ugh. Enoughwith the L-words.
“Um, okay.” I meet their stares, going for clearheaded and sound of mind, even though, right now, I feel anything but. “So, first off,Whit, how do you go from hiking boots to happily ever after? I’m just curious…”
She glares at me through the screen.
“No, thanks. You, diva, can keep your two cents to yourself, because I’m not collecting change at the moment,” I snap, then smile. “And second, this goes for the rest of you—this is aroad trip, okay? If all goes well, there’ll be amazing,pull overnow because I can’t drive another milebackseat sex. I’m not about to make it out to be more than it is.”
