are like little boys when they get together,” Charlotte said to Abby, rolling her eyes.
“Abby, how long have you been with Chris?” Jen asked, eyeing her.
“Um … We’re not together. I’ve known him for a couple months.”
“Oh, really? And what do you do back in Chicago?”
“I work at Case Publications,” Abby said. She felt the awkwardness brought on by meeting new people. Should she tell them she was a stripper? It always changed their view of her, so she tried not to. But she also didn’t want it to look like she was ashamed of herself.
“Are you an editor?” Jen continued to probe. Abby wondered why Jen was so interested in her.
“No, I’m an assistant.”
“Hey, did I hear Chris tell Reed you’ve got some shopping to do?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, I didn’t bring anything with me,” Abby said.
“Why don’t you and I go?”
“Sure. I don’t know my way around or anything, though.”
“I know the way to some good stores.” Charlotte brushed the sand from her legs as she got up, and Abby followed suit.
“Where are you going?” Chris called over. Abby admired him for a second. The muscles on his bare chest and arms already glowed from the sun. He wore a baseball hat, with big curls flipping up from underneath it. He looked right at home on the California beach.
“Shopping,” Charlotte said, shaking the sand out of her towel.
“I’ll take you,” Chris said, walking over.
“Relax, Reneau,” Charlotte said. “Women prefer shopping with other women. We’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Abby felt comfortable with Charlotte immediately. She was talkative, but didn’t pry. The first store they shopped at was a casual boutique where everything was discounted.
“I always stop here when we come to the beach house,” Charlotte said. “They have really great stuff and it’s not expensive. I was raised by a single mom, and I just can’t pay hundreds of dollars for one item of clothing.”
Abby bought more clothes at the store than she would need for the trip, even finding several pairs of shoes.
“I hope Chris doesn’t mind sharing his suitcase on the way home,” she said.
“Chris would throw away his stuff to make room for yours.”
Abby colored, wondering how much Charlotte knew about the relationship between her and Chris.
“He’s a good guy,” Abby said.
“He is. And he thinks the world of you.”
“So he’s … talked to you guys about me?”
“Yes. Reed and Chris have been friends since college. And Reed and I met in med school, so I’ve known Chris a while, too.”
“Did he tell you about what I do for a living?” Abby asked tentatively.
“He did. Reed and I think nothing of it, so don’t give it another thought. And you don’t have to share it with the whole world. Jen only cares because she’s wanted Chris for years. She comes here with Kelana at every chance and tries to hook up with him.”
“Oh … that sounds like it could be a little uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about it. Did you get everything you need?”
“Pretty much. Can we stop at a drugstore so I can pick up a toothbrush and some makeup?”
“There’s a salon near here, too. Let’s get our hair blown out and our nails done,” Charlotte said. She was assertive, but not bossy or demanding. Abby liked her.
When they left the salon, Charlotte drove toward the drug store with a pensive expression.
“Can I ask you about something without it offending you?” she asked.
“Sure,” Abby said. She assumed Charlotte wanted to know what really happened at strip clubs, because she got that question a lot. She considered then that Charlotte might know Abby had given Reed a lap dance at his bachelor party, and wanted to ask about that. She hoped not.
“Could you give me some advice on how to be sexy?”
Abby paused, taken aback by the question.
“Um … I’m not any sexier than you are, Charlotte. You’re beautiful.”
“Thanks. But what I mean is, well, Reed and I have been together for nine years. We just got married not too long ago because we wanted to wait until we both finished med school and residency. I love him so much, and he loves me, but we work opposite shifts, long hours … it’s tough. We hardly ever have sex anymore. I wanted this trip to be a chance for us to make up for it.”
“Okay,” Abby said, thinking. “Sure, I can help. What kind of swimsuits did you bring? You’ll need a bikini.”
“I have one, but it’s old and it doesn’t match.”
“We’ll need to stop at another