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“C’mon, c’mon,” Brittany Jean Russell talked to her car, flicking her key relentlessly trying to start the engine. She drew in a breath, then exhaled in short spurts like she was in labor and not sitting inside her ten-year-old Nissan, begging it to work.
After a couple of minutes, the automotive gods heard her prayers and she heard the thump, then a loud purr and at last, green lights appeared on her display. Phew. She sighed out loud, blowing her bangs out of place. “Shit, it almost didn’t start.” She made a mental note to take car to the shop.
“That’s a bad word, Mom,” her daughter, Libby, said from the backseat.
Leave it to a six-year-old to keep her honest even in the worst moments. She slanted Libby a look, straightening her shoulders. “Yes, it is, honey. I was making sure you flagged it when I said it.” She glanced at the rearview mirror and forced a smile. “So you know it’s a bad word to say.”
Libby lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. “Sure, Mom.”
Why does she have to be so smart?Brit took off from her driveway and began cruising to the other part of town, where her friend Violet lived. Well, used to live. Eight months ago, Violet had left her home, including her husband, Damian, and two children, one-year-old Trevor and six-year-old Amanda. Violet had been dealing with some depression, but also had requested a divorce before she left for a mental health clinic across the country. Truth was, no one was sure why Violet left and she didn’t get into details with Brit and her friends Lara and Nikki, members of the Bad Housewives Club. That’s what they called their support group where they met every week and shared laughs, glasses of wine and the usual stuff.
Well, so much for support now. She couldn’t avoid the frosty thought. She’d always shared almost every part of her life with her friends, even the embarrassing ones, like her financial status. Out of the four, she’d always been the one with less money.
Thirty minutes later, she approached the entrance of one of Tulip’s most exclusive gated communities. The security guard, from the inside of his station, waved at her, opening the gate, a hint she’d been coming here way too often lately. When she’d come up with a task force to help Damian with his two kids, she thought Violet would return soon. But days turned into weeks then months, and while Damian had hired a nanny for the children, a lot of times, he was called in for emergency surgeries and needed someone to pitch in out of the blue. Besides, the children enjoyed seeing Violet’s friends, and the kids in the group all played together.
Brit slid her car into the community, driving until she arrived at the last mansion-like residence to the right. She parked the car, internally praying for it to be silent. But of course the motor had other plans, releasing a gassy hiss. Groaning, she turned it off. “Let’s go, Libby.”
“Mom, you know this car is on life support and at some point you need to pull the plug.”
She made a face at her shrewd daughter. Damn it, she needed a lot of things—a better car, a hot boyfriend to save her from the longest man drought on Earth, and most of all, enough money to attend a coveted conference for makeup artists such as herself. She’d love to bump shoulders with Lady Gaga’s stylist, and network with the best in the field. She’d be able to show the samples of a makeup line she envisioned. B. Jean Cosmetics had been created with ingredients and pigments in her home. Hopefully, if she captured interest from a distributor or investor, she’d share it with the world. If only she had the money to pay the conference fee.
Libby didn’t wait, rushing ahead to ring the doorbell. Brit glanced over her shoulder, still seeing some smoke sneaking out of her motor. She’d taken it to the car shop, but the guy said he’d only managed a band-aid fix at best. Well, she needed a gauze strong enough to wrap around an elephant’s ankle.
The door swung open, and Amanda, the six-year-old, greeted them, hugging Libby. “Lib-bey! You’re finally here!”
“Ssshhhh.” Damian Forrest appeared behind her. “Trevor finally went down for a nap.”
Libby whispered something in Amanda’s ears, and they dashed into the house, giggling.
“Problems with the car?” Damian asked, pointing at her vehicle.
Her stomach knotted. Oh no. He’d seen her arrive or worse, heard it die in his driveway. Embarrassment pinned her to the spot, and when he fished the key from her hands, her palms slicked with cold sweat. Sure, she’d trusted her girlfriends with her money situation, but… Damian?
She watched him march to her car. Even with the sun setting not far away, the impressive outline of his shoulders stretched the shirt he wore. She avoided looking at his back, because usually her gaze traveled lower to his ass, and her mouth watered.
Bad Brit. Bad friend.
Technically, he and Violet were separated and there was no coming back, but still. Violet had always been the good girl, the most conservative one in the group, and she wouldn’t forgive Brit if she knew Brit had scorching hot dreams about Damian.
She’d never kissed a man with a trimmed beard before. What would it feel like? Would it make her cheeks itch, or would it tease her flesh, setting her insides on fire? A jolt of excitement bolted through her.
Yep, she needed a boyfriend. Badly.
Lack of sex definitely messed with her brain. Broke and dick thirsty she might be, but her mom certainly didn’t raise her to ogle a friend’s ex—legally, not even an ex yet.
“Brit?” Damian called, walking up to her.
She cleared her throat, wishing instead of the sweatpants and T-shirt she had on something more flattering. Especially because of her extra pounds, mainly hanging on her belly and ass, anything else would give her a better shape. Damn, she’d settle for a pear shape instead of the whole fucking fruit basket.
He tilted his head, a flick of concern in his lush hazel eyes. “Your car’s dead. Shall I pronounce a time of death?”
That would be two years ago, but I keep resuscitating it.No wonder she’d been calling her clunker Buddha. Poor thing probably dreamed of reincarnating as a butterfly or a puppy. “I’ll make it work.”
He perched his hands at his waistline. “What happened?”
Being a single mom and trying to start up a career.Warmth filled her cheeks. She rarely blushed, but him asking those questions threw her off balance. “Oh, it’s been like this for a while. I’m saving to get a new car.”
