“I can’t wait to tell Scotty,” Misty gushes. “We do girl-on-girl a lot, but we can hardly ever get a guy-on-guy. He’s going to love you, Aidan…and so am I!”
“You should go call him right now,” I encourage as I see Max walk in the door. “We’ve got to have a short meeting here, and then Aidan will be free for the night.” She throws herself against Aidan, practically shoving a nipple damn near in his mouth before she skips off excitedly.
“What’d I miss?” Max asks as he lowers himself to the other seat at the table.
Aidan tosses a peanut from the bowl near his elbow at me and I duck easily. “Oh, nothing much. This limp-dicked fucker just pimped me out for a threesome with the bartender and her boyfriend. Now I’m going to be forced to sneak out of here when we’re done or go with Misty and hope my STD-free status remains intact.”
Max looks from me to Aidan before signaling a passing waiter and ordering a drink. “You know, I almost want an explanation…but not quite enough to risk hearing it.”
I snicker as Misty walks past, blowing Aidan a kiss. He squirms uncomfortably in his seat. I know he has no problem with aggressive women, but Misty has him fidgeting like a virgin on her first date. Probably the man-on-man threat. In our wilder days, Aidan and I did a lot of shit I’m not particularly proud of. We’ve shared women before. But we know each other’s boundaries. I’d have never done something like that with anyone else and I can’t see Aidan being comfortable with it either. “Just blowing off a little steam,” I finally say. Aidan flips me off from across the table causing Max to shake his head like a resigned older brother.
Max reaches down to pull a folder from his briefcase and tosses it onto the tabletop. “This is the background check on Monique. I think you’ll find it…interesting.” He takes a gulp of his scotch before opening the file. “Monique has been around for a long time. Probably longer than you know. She attended the same college you did. Actually, you both had at least one class with her.”
“No shit,” Aidan murmurs. “I mean, we know she went to the same school, but I don’t remember her at all.”
Shaking my head, I add, “Me, either.”
“Oh, she’s changed quite a bit since then,” Max, says as he holds a picture up.
Aidan shrinks back in something akin to horror. “No fucking way!”
I’m similarly shocked as I look at the photo of a much younger girl with frizzy hair and glasses. I study it for a bit longer and finally see a resemblance to Monique around the eyes. It’s vague, but there. “I don’t remember her from school,” I admit, “but I didn’t know even half of the people in my classes so that’s not surprising.”
Seeming to have finally recovered some, Aidan wrinkles his nose and states the obvious, “Man, she’s had a lot of work done. She may be a class-A bitch a lot of the time, but she looks good—in and out of clothes.”
All right,” Max says dryly, “we all agree she’s improved herself. Since neither of you recognizes her from this picture, I think it’s safe to say she didn’t run in the same circles with you in college.”
“Hey,” Aidan complains, looking insulted. “I bagged my share of less fortunates. I didn’t discriminate…much.”
“Bullshit,” I scoff. I’ve known Aidan most of my life and I can’t remember him ever sleeping with a girl or woman looking like Monique did back then.
“For God’s sake, boys.” Max puts heavy emphasis on the last word as he rolls his eyes at us. “I couldn’t care less who you’ve slept with and what your standards are. I think we can all safely assume we’ve had our share of moments we’d like to forget. Let’s just move forward and focus for a moment.”
No sooner have those words left his mouth than a sugary voice says from behind him, “Hey, Aidan, can I get you anything else, sweetie?” Max cringes as I turn to the side to keep from laughing at my friend’s worried expression. Misty is likely to tackle him when he tries to walk out the door tonight and he knows it. I fucking love it myself.
“Er…no. We’re all good here, Misty, but thanks,” Aidan says as he turns away from her. She leans against his back, rubbing her tits firmly against him before whispering something in his ear. His eyes grow large as he nods once and she walks off. As soon as she’s out of earshot, he points a finger at me. “You bastard. You’re dead.” Then motioning to Max he adds, “You better finish up because she said Scotty would be here in an hour to get the party started so I’ve got to get the hell out of here in thirty minutes just to be safe.”
Max finally loses his composure and begins laughing. Aidan is normally such a suave ladies’ man, so it’s hilarious to see him scared of an overzealous bartender. She has him on the ropes, though. Clearing his throat, Max picks back up on our conversation. “Anyway, Cassie’s mother was Christina Morris. She was never married to Cassie’s father. As far as I can tell, they lived together for about four years with her taking off when Cassie was around two. She met Monique’s father, Carson Whitmire, five years later and married him within three months of dating. He was a very wealthy widower with a daughter, April, who was less than a year older than Cassie was. Carson’s family made their money in textiles and even though a lot of that type of business had moved overseas through the years, he still managed to keep their remaining two plants profitable. He was fifteen years older than Christina and was said to have worshipped her.”