“Aww, are you sexually starving, Dot?” Sondra asks, her tone amused.

“Like a goddamn prison inmate. And before any of you hussies jump on my case, you remember this… All three of you bitches have had a D in, on, or around your person in at least the last month. I haven’t taken a ride on the D-train in like six months.”

“I would just like to remind you ladies that I’m still on this call…” Keith says flatly.

Sondra snorts a laugh. “Darling, when was the last time you had a conversation with all three of us when we didn’t talk about our vaginas and what does or doesn’t go in them?”

“Good point. Proceed…”

“Yeah, Keith,” Dottie pounces. “Don’t pretend like you don’t get more D than all three of us combined, you sexy bastard.”

“Not my fault if I get them halfway there just by looking at them, Princess.”

I laugh, stuffing my planner into my leather backpack while I stand, then push my office chair in.

“Well, this has been… informative,” I say, twisting off the cap on my water bottle and dumping its contents into my thirsty little desk plant. “But I have to go. Sondra, welcome back from your honeymoon, babe. That said, your dinner party tonight… I just want to check one more ti—”

“Winter, he will not be there. I promise, sweetie. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good. Because I cannot see Aleck, and I know that he and Preston see each other a lot now that he’s living in LA… Maybe one day we can all be in the same room together, but that day isn’t tonight, got it?”

“You won’t see him. He has plans. But even if he didn’t, I would cancel his invitation. You’ll always have first dibs.”

Plans. Aleck has plans on a Friday night. A date, probably. Will he take her to dinner? Then his place for cold, detached, animalistic sex? Will he offer her the guest room because he doesn’t do intimacy? Or maybe he’s different now. Maybe I showed him he can be boyfriend material if he wants to be. Maybe that’s what he wants. He certainly seemed to want it with me. Of course, I’m not one of LA’s gorgeous socialites with legs up to my throat. I wear Chucks with no socks, ripped up jean shorts, and T-shirts. I’m not glamorous in the slightest. Maybe his date tonight will be, and maybe she’ll turn out to be the one. I’ll turn out to be a mere steppingstone on the way to him finding his forever.

“I’m telling you right now…” Keith’s deep rasp comes through the line. “If he shows up tonight, I’m kicking his teeth down his throat.”

“Keith, I love you.” I laugh. “But that’s unnecessary. He’s not a terrible man, he just doesn’t want me. There’s no crime in that.”

“Yeah, well, he could have called you…” Dottie murmurs. “Or texted, sent a bat-signal, a damn telegram perhaps. Anything. It would have been better than doing nothing. Asshole ghosted you like, well, an asshole.”