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“Jules dressed me,” she said, then explained the birthday ‘tradition’ that had sprung up over the last five years.
“Wait.” David stared at Evan. “Jules is the woman you couldn’t stop thinking about?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my God, the whole time you were telling me about that woman, I kept thinking it sounded exactly like Jules. And it was.”
“You’ve been crushing on Jules?” Paige asked Evan.
He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
David coughed.
“Okay, more than a little,” Evan admitted without embarrassment. “But you know … she’s hot as fuck. Not to mention a little crazy, which I happen to really go for.”
“This is all kinds of surreal,” Paige murmured, picking up David’s Margarita and taking a drink, only to frown at the salt on the rim.
“It is,” Evan agreed.
David grabbed a glass for her and went through all the options. “Original or mango?”
“Mango.”
“Blended or shaken?”
“Shaken.”
“Salt or sugar?”
“Sugar, of course.”
Evan reached for a chip and dipped it in the guacamole before popping the entire thing in his mouth and shaking his head at Paige. “Jesus, I can’t believe you’re David’s ex-wife … and Cat Lady.”
“Cat Lady?”
“Yeah. David wouldn’t tell me your name, so that’s what we called you.”
Paige looked at David, who was dipping the rim of a Margarita glass into the sugar. “You were calling me Cat Lady?”
Setting the glass aside, David measured out the tequila, mango liqueur, and lime juice into the cocktail shaker, while nodding in Evan’s direction. “He started it.”
“Why?”
“Because of the video you sent me of Sputnik and the laser. I was at his place, and … anyway, I told him to stop.”
“Then you also said it was fine,” Evan pointed out.
“Only because you wanted to call her ‘Agent Provocateur’, instead—”
“He did?” Paige looked confused. “Why?”
“Because of the bra you … left behind … that night.” Appearing slightly uncomfortable, David shook the shaker several times, then poured the contents into Paige’s glass and slid it over to her.
“The night of the handcuffs,” Evan supplied helpfully, even though it was clear she wasn’t confused about what night was being referenced. “Speaking of which, you have no idea how much mileage I’ve gotten out of David oiled and trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Oh, my God. Even more than his sex dreams—wait. Holy shit, those were about you—”
“Sex dreams?” Paige blinked at the change of topic and took a big sip of her drink.
“So much for taking that to the grave,” David said with a glare at Evan.
