Page 2 of The Stipulation
I choke on my drink. “Noooo.”
Olivia nods sagely. “Yes. Talk about a major red flag. But then, he poured me a glass of wine that cost more than my weekly food budget and did this unusual thing with his eyebrows. One thing led to another, and somehow, I found myself in his bed.”
Serena tilts her head. “All is well that ends well.”
“Well, not exactly,” Olivia says with a grimace. “We were kissing, which was fine. Nice, even. Until his bedside lamp fell over.”
Jenny laughs. “What? How?”
“The thing just shattered. It was almost like a poltergeist scene from a horror movie. There was glass everywhere. He panicked. Like, a full-on spiral. He kept on apologizing and trying to clean it up, while naked… and bleeding slightly.”
“You didn’t try to help?” I ask, shaking my head in wonder.
“No, I absolutely did not,” Olivia denies indignantly. “I sat on the bed and watched him hop around like a wounded gazelle.”
“That’s cold. I like it,” Serena approves.
“It gets better,” Olivia continues. “He insisted on putting a plaster on his toe. Very tenderly. With lots of eye contact. I thought he was going to ask me to kiss it better at one point. And then …”
“And then what?” Jenny prompts impatiently.
“The fool tried to have sex with me… with the plaster still on.”
The table explodes into laughter loud enough for a few heads to turn in our direction.
“This is why I’m done with men,” Jenny declares, wheezing with laughter.
“Same,” Serena says. “Honestly, same.”
Jenny drops her eyebrows disbelievingly. “You say that all of the time.”
“Ok,” Serena amends. “Temporarily same.”
Olivia shrugs. “Anyway, it was … fine. The sex was fine. Not life-changing by any means, but not terrible.”
“Wait, you went through with it after all that?” Jenny exclaims.
Olivia nods sheepishly. “But that’s why I’m off men for now. That, and the fact that every time I see a first aid kit, I feel weird.”
I wipe my eyes, still laughing. “Thank you for that gift. Truly.”
Jenny turns to me, her grin sharpening like a wolf’s. “Speaking of men. Or, rather, the lack of. What’s up with that, Miss Jo-Anne Louise Button?”
Here it comes. I stop laughing real quick. “Oh, let’s not go there, please.”
“Oh yes, we are absolutely going there,” she yells. “How long has it been now? Three months? Four?”
“Five,” Serena supplies helpfully.
I glare at her. “Thanks for that.”
Serena shrugs. “I respect the truth.”
Jenny leans closer. “Five months without sex is not a choice, Jo. It’s a freaking cry for help.”
“It is totally a choice,” I protest. “I am off men. Completely. Entirely. Permanently. For the foreseeable future.”
Olivia studies me. “You say that like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
