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CHAPTER 1

ALANIS

Laughter around the table gets a little more than rowdy in the quaint, but considered fancy, Thai restaurant of Everville, North Carolina, but we can’t help it. When the six of us ladies get together, we know how to have a good time.

And tonight is special. The excitement and the Mai Tais are flowing free. Tomorrow morning might not be a good time, but I’d rather regret things I’ve done, than regret never having done anything.

Sitting in the large U-shaped booth in the back of the restaurant, I glance around and smile at all my friends collected in one place, all together and so happy that I almost want to tear up.

Soon these meet ups will be less frequent and not the same.

Catching the eye of the hostess across the room, she cocks her head to the side with raised eyebrows, and I nod at her that we’re ready. The hostess smiles, nods once, and heads back into the kitchen.

Lifting my glass of wine, I clear my throat. “Attention… ladies, your attention… a toast.”

Millie and Jade stop chatting and glance my way, leaving it to Oaklynn and Holland to keep babbling away. With only a couple of moments before the surprise comes out, I glare at the two ladies hoping they’ll stop talking.

Jade elbows Holland. She looks up and sees that I have my wine glass lifted in the air. Oaklynn and her sober up while sitting straight to face me and give me their undivided attention.

I smile over at Millie, one of my dearest friends, for as long as I can remember. “To Millie, the big city of Charlotte may only be two hours away, but to us, it’ll feel like the other side of the world. Your friendship is, has been, and always will be special. We love you, Millie. You’ll be missed, but we’re so excited that you’re doing what’s best for you.” I lift my glass. “To your big move and all the successes yet to come! Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone but Millie yells, and we clink our glasses, laughing and sipping, while all six of us are misty-eyed.

The hostess and our waitress come up to the table carrying a massive dinner plate-sized fortune cookie.

I called ahead of time to get this fortune cookie specially made. They’re known to do this for special occasions, and with one of our besties moving away, we all could use a little good fortune on our side.

Millie’s eyes widen as the cookie is placed in front of her. We all laugh because the cookie is bigger than her petite, elfish head.

“Now, come on, Millie. You do the honors. Break the cookie and take the first fortune.”

Shaking her head, she grabs the cookie, and it’s awkward to break open with just her hands. Jade snaps several pictures because Millie’s concentration on breaking open a fortune cookie is hilarious. She takes a deep breath, the concentration creating a line between her eyes, and the when she bears down again, the cookie cracks into six or seven pieces and pieces of paper float to the plate like wisdom confetti.

The hostess is even kind enough to grab the phone and takes a large shot with all of us smiling to the camera and our hands reaching inside the cracked pieces to grab and hold up a fortune.

Millie reads hers silently, then shrugs her shoulders.

“No, no, no. You have to read it aloud. What does it say?” Holland demands. As a lawyer, she’s known for being the take charge one of the bunch. Plus she’s just plain on the nosey side. I think it’s the need to know the truth or at least the truth that will get her clients—soon to be divorced women—the best for their futures.

“It says, ‘Listen for love, touch someone’s heart, and see what pops up.”

All at once, everybody shouts, “In bed!”

Giggling, we circle around the table telling our fortunes. I realize the theme of this particular fortune cookie is all about love.

Is the restaurant hinting about something? They can’t possible know that all of us are single. Or maybe it shows.

They probably do wonder why we meet here every month for dinner on a Friday night and never once a man joins us. Single and sisterhood works for us at the moment. At least, that’s what we all say aloud.

“Ok, Alanis, your turn.”

I haven’t read my fortune yet. I bite my lip when my eyes cross the words quickly. “Yeah, right.”

“Read it!” says someone. “Come on, Alanis!” says another.

I say quickly, “You will receive unexpected kisses in unexpected places.”

“In bed!” echoes through the room and waitress laughs, but the receptionist shakes her head. I cringe, but inside I’m thinking that this will be a memory that I keep close forever.

Screw being socially perfect. There’s a time to break the rules and norms.

We all laugh. Maybe it’s the three pitchers of Mai Tais but I think it’s here with my best friends that makes us livelier.

And possible a little obnoxious.

We’ve all been through some shit this last… decade.

Men.

Jobs.

Family.

It’s a never-ending list of the worst of the worst and sometimes the best of the best times stand out, but the hard ones seem to make their way through more frequently.

And I may be laughing, but if only they knew how little action in bed I’m actually getting, they’d keel over in shock.

It’s been… what? Oh, no… that can’t be right. Fourteen months? No, ugh… fuck! It’s fifteen now. It’s the end of May. And that one back time in February of the last year didn’t really shake the ground, if you know what I mean. Hell, I would’ve gotten more satisfaction while sitting at crossing arms when a train rumbles by.

I mentally groan. My hoo-hoo is going dry so badly that dust bunnies will start collecting down there.

Suddenly, the twanging sound of an old spaghetti western places a soundtrack in my head, and I see tumbleweeds rolling by.

Shaking my head out of that sad image, I force another laugh, but it’s a little hollow and hurts this time.

I want love.

I want connection.

I want to be somebody’s first choice in everything.

I want somebody to be my first go-to with everything in my life. The first thing they think about when waking up. The last when they go to sleep.

Flirting is something I’m great at. Hell, I need to be for my job. It helps me be the best of the best. Wait, that makes me sound like a sex worker—I’m not. But having the occasional reason to flirt is not real life. It definitely doesn’t keep me warm at night or massage my feet when they hurt.

I reread the fortune, staring out the window and wishing as I shove it into my bag.

Real life sucks.

But who falls in love because of a fortune in a cookie?