Page 23 of The Holy Grail

Spilling some tea

After giving Paige a body-crushing hug, Jules pulled back to look her friend over.

Today, for their lunch get-together at Macaroni’s, Paige was wearing a pair of soft gray, maternity leggings and a matching jersey tunic that draped perfectly over her expanding baby bump.

Now near the end of her second trimester, and long past the point at which she’d miscarried in her first pregnancy, she looked relaxed and happy.

“You look great,” Jules said, after they’d been taken to a nice booth and were sitting across from one another.

Paige grinned. “Thank you. I feel great.”

“So … morning sickness?”

“It’s gone, thank God. Barfing at random times during the day gets old really fast.”

“I can imagine.” Jules paused, then asked, “Hemorrhoids?”

“Are you asking if I have any?”

“Yes. I’ve heard that’s common.”

“Um, well, common or not, I’m not aware of having any. Would you like to check?”

“No, I’m just asking, as any good friend would. What about pregnancy hormones?”

“Yes, I definitely have those.”

“Is it true what they say about them?”

“You mean about them making you horny twenty-four hours a day?”

Jules tilted her head. “Obviously.”

“Yes, it’s true.” Paige chuckled. “Oh, my God, is it true. ”

“Well, I hope David’s taking plenty of vitamins, so he can keep up.”

“He’s keeping up just fine … so far.” Paige’s lips twitched. “Although, the other night I think he might have been pretending to be asleep when I got into bed.”

“Why was he in bed before you?”

“I was finishing my nightly ritual, which involves applying large amounts of lotion to my entire body—you know, to help avoid stretch marks.”

“Seems like something David could help you with.”

“He usually does, but I’d jumped him a couple times that day, so he probably was actually tired.”

“Poor guy.”

The two women shared a laugh, and then Jules pointed toward Paige’s breasts. “Let’s talk about those.”

Paige looked down, at the same time pushing out her chest. “What about them?”

“For starters, how freaking fabulous they are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course.”

Her expression turning to one of coy modesty, Paige said, “I think so, too. Every once in a while, I’ll find myself just staring at them in the mirror, thinking, ‘Damn, girl, your boobs look amazing—”

“Hello, ladies,” Anthony said, just off to Paige’s left. “Can I get you started with something to drink?”

Without missing a beat—because at this point what was the use in being embarrassed anymore for whatever the waiter might overhear—Jules smiled and answered, “I’ll have a sparkling water, please.”

Paige had apparently decided being embarrassed was also a waste of time, and gave him a smile, as well. “Same for me.”

After Anthony had taken their food orders and left them, Paige steered the conversation toward something less anatomical. “So, what’s new in your life?” she wanted to know.

“Well, I’m … I’m seeing someone, actually,” Jules answered slowly.

“Oh, my God, it’s Evan, isn’t it?” Paige’s face lit up like a Fourth of July fireworks display. “I can tell by looking at your face that it is. Sweet Jesus, it’s about time—”

“What do you mean, it’s ‘about time’?”

“It’s about time you two got together, is what I mean.”

“You thought he and I would get together?”

“David and I both did. Although, we thought it would happen months ago, to be honest.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we have thought that? You and Evan have really good chemistry, so we figured it was only a matter of time before you two were having—” she broke off to look around for Anthony, and when there was no sign of him, she quickly continued with, “sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex.”

Jules frowned a little, not having expected the reaction she was getting. “So, you’re telling me neither you or David would have a problem with Evan and me being together?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“I’m really surprised to hear that.”

“Why?”

“Because I always thought that would be no bueno .”

“Why?”

“Because of my history with men.”

“Jules …”

Jules held up a hand. “I didn’t think you’d want me to, you know, fuck around with someone in the inner circle, only to have it become really awkward at get-togethers when it didn’t work out.

” She took a breath and released it. “Which is why I never did pursue Evan. I thought about it many times, but I never wanted to ruin a good thing between the four of us, and I especially never wanted to break Evan’s heart. ”

“You really didn’t think there was a chance it could’ve worked out with him?”

“Not really, no.”

“Jules …”

“What? It’s okay.”

Paige pivoted the conversation a little. “So, who are you seeing, if it’s not Evan?”

“Malcom Hodge.”

Paige’s eyebrows drew together for a moment, before rising in surprise. “The guy from the restaurant? The one who looked like Clark Kent?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yep.”

“When did you start seeing him? ”

“Four weeks ago.”

Paige slowly set her glass down and leaned forward. “Four weeks ago?”

“Give or take.”

“Give or take?”

“Well, I first contacted him about five weeks ago, but we’ve really only gone out a couple of times, so ...”

“Are you serious right now?”

Jules pretended to misunderstand her friend’s indignation. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I would have been happy for you five weeks ago. Now, I’m annoyed because you’re just telling me about it. I mean, how many times have you chewed my ass for waiting to tell you about something for a few hours ?”

“To be fair, sometimes it was for more than a few hours—”

“More times than I can count is the correct answer. You’re unbelievable. You once told me I was a worse friend than Hitler. Well, you’re a worse friend than … than …”

Jules waited, amused, for Paige to come up with a name, but when she continued to struggle to come up with someone worse than Hitler, Jules stepped in. “Stalin? Chairman Mao? Vlad the Impaler? Jeffrey Dahmer? Jim Jones? Elizabeth Bathory?”

Paige blinked at Jules. “Who’s Elizabeth Bathory?”

“She was a Hungarian countess, believed to be the biggest female serial killer in history.”

“I’ve never even heard of her. When did this happen?”

“In the 16th century.”

“In the—how do you know that?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just one of those random facts I know, probably from watching some show on the History Channel.”

“Okay, well, you’re worse than all of those people put together—especially that Hungarian duchess.”

“Countess.”

“Whatever.”

“So, I’m worse than all of them because I waited five weeks to tell you about Malcom?”

“Yes! That’s not okay.”

Jules knew Paige was trying to be menacing, but really wasn’t able to carry it off, so Jules simply sat there and waited .

“So, tell me everything,” Paige demanded. “And I mean everything … to include even the smallest details of the sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex.”

“I would, but we actually haven’t had sex, yet.”

“What?” Paige’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief as she processed Jules’ claim. “I don’t believe you.”

“We haven’t. I swear.” For a moment, Jules was tempted to tell her friend about the oral sex, but at the last second, decided against it, wanting what had happened with Malcom to be only hers for a little while longer.

She could understand why Paige had been reticent in the past and actually felt a little bad for always hounding her friend.

“How many dates have you been on?”

“Two.”

“So, what have you two been doing? Hanging out at the malt shop?”

At the obvious reference to when Jules had given Paige shit about ‘dating’ David and what their dates might look like, Jules hid a smile. “Actually, we hang out in his kitchen a lot.”

“You do? Why?”

“It’s his favorite room in his house.”

“That’s rather … strange.”

“Well, he loves to cook, and he’s cooked for me on our dates, so ... we hang out in his kitchen.”

Paige was now looking even more surprised. “He cooks?”

Jules nodded. “Really good stuff, too. Like, even his salads are amazing.”

“Wait. He got you to eat a salad?”

“Salads, plural, since he apparently serves them with every meal. At first, I was just being polite, but they really are good.”

Paige pursed her lips for a moment. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” she suggested. “I think that would be good.”

Jules explained how she’d kept his card and looked at it often, but hadn’t called to get a reference from Malcom’s mother until after Jules had the epiphany about men and why none of them worked out.

She then filled Paige in on the nice chat with Beverly, the voicemail apology to Malcom, the parental advice to send him flowers, then the ambush at lunch which culminated in the date where he mostly stood Jules up.

When she was done, she was actually starting to fidget under Paige’s intense stare.

“You’re thinking I’m an asshole, aren’t you?” Jules asked .

“No, I’m thinking you seem different.”

“Different, how?”

“Humbled,” Paige clarified. “For the first time in your life you had to work for a man.”

“I did, but in terms of effort, it wasn’t necessarily that impressive.”

“True, but for you, it was impressive. And I’m proud of you for taking a chance with that dinner invitation, despite knowing you could be setting yourself up for failure.”

“That was a little rough,” Jules admitted.

“And that’s part of the reason why I didn’t tell you what I was doing until now.

I felt pretty awful about ghosting him for so long, and I didn’t know if it was even going to go anywhere, to be honest—and if it didn’t go anywhere, then I really didn’t want you to know.

But he and I have seen each other a few times, so I figured I’d come clean, even though I still don’t know if it’s going anywhere. ”

“No one knows if it’s going anywhere until it does.”

Jules gave Paige a bland look. “That’s really … dumb.”

“Well, it’s true. So, is he as nice as he seemed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like him?”

“I do like him. A lot.”

Paige gave Jules a long look. “But?”

Jules hesitated for a second. “But … I’m not used to waiting,” she said.

“I know you’re not, but it’s good for you.

It seems like he’s trying to get to know you on a deeper level by dating you and taking it slow, especially since he’s aware of your history with men.

He obviously wants more from you than what you’ve given in the past, and developing a strong connection before sex is the key.

That’s how it works for most people, you know. ”

“I know, but sometimes I feel a little discombobulated that all we’ve done is make-out and—” she broke off before she mentioned the oral sex on the island.

“‘Discombobulated’? That sounds like a Word-of-the-Day.”

“It is. Evan used it a few weeks ago, and it’s coming in handy …” Jules trailed off. “What?”

“You saw Evan a few weeks ago?”

“I, um, actually see him like every weekend.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m sort of working for him.”

“Working for him, how? And why am I just now finding out about that ? ”

“I was keeping it under wraps, because it’s kind of a secret—”

“Why would it be a secret?”

“Well, I’ve been doing some accounting work for the bar, digging into the books to find out what’s going on.”

“What do you mean ‘find out what’s going on’? And how did this come about?”

“It started on the night of your pregnancy reveal—which wasn’t much of a reveal, by the way, since Evan and I both suspected you were knocked up.

Anyway, I found myself at Three Amigos to share the joy with him, and during the course of the evening, he and I talked about his work schedule, his terrible pay, and things just weren’t adding up for me.

So, I offered to look at the books and find out what was going on.

He said Everett wouldn’t go for that, especially if I had to take the books off-site, so I promised to come into the bar late at night during Evan’s shifts, so Everett and Evelyn wouldn’t know what I was doing. ”

“Have you found anything?”

Jules nodded. “I have. And I’m getting close to scheduling a meeting with everyone to go over my findings and recommendations for the bar.”

Paige looked thoughtful. “So you and Evan have been spending a lot of time together …”

“A fair amount, yes. Sometimes I even help him clean up the bar so he can leave before 4:00 a.m.”

“Jesus, really?”

Jules nodded again. “It’s been bad for him for a while. You have no idea. And Everett and Evelyn have no idea about the can of Whoop-Ass I’m going to open on them … which I’m really looking forward to.”

Paige grinned. “God, I wish I could be there to see it.”

“I do, too. You know how much I love an audience.”

Paige turned serious again. “Is it … difficult … working with Evan? You know, because of the chemistry?”

“A little. Okay, maybe more than a little. We had a moment last week, when he was going to make a move on me and I had to shut him down and tell him I was seeing someone. He was really upset—the look on his face was awful. He said he should have asked me out when he had the chance a long time ago …”

“Oh, Jesus, poor Evan. I feel so bad for him. For you, too, but mostly for him, because he has to deal with knowing you’re with someone that isn’t him. ”

“Kind of like how you had to deal with knowing David was with someone who wasn’t you.”

“Yes, but that was different. That someone was Ashley, which made it worse.”

Jules conceded the point, even though she thought it unlikely it would make a difference to Evan if she was dating the greatest guy in the world, then murmured, “Things should get better once my job is done and he and I won’t see each other as much.”