naked men? But the truth is, I don’t want to see any naked men. I just want to feel the numbness that comes from drinking one too many margaritas.
After I get ready, I pull up my Uber app and pray that someone is available tonight. Being in a small town has its perks, but public transportation is not one of them. And I know good and well that I won’t be in any shape to drive home, so I take my chances.
Worst-case scenario: I call Cole, but seeing as though he’s a deputy and is married to a nun, he probably wouldn’t want to be an accessory to my night of debauchery.
When my app shows no availability, I sigh, feeling a bit dejected and kind of like crying.
“Are you kidding me?” I shout to the ceiling. Looking at you, Big Guy.
Letting out a frustrated huff, I lean against the wall and for a split-second, I consider changing out of these clothes and letting ice cream and baked goods lull me into a false sense of serenity. But that’s a weak substitution for what I want: a night of no thoughts, no feelings … just the warmth of tequila running through my veins.
Nothing is ever freaking easy for me these days.
One night. That’s all I want and I can’t even make that happen on my own.
Taking a look in the mirror in the foyer, I give myself the once-over—favorite sweater, skinny jeans that make my ass look great, and a new pair of shoes I’ve never had the chance to wear. I’m not wasting this.
So, I dial Cole’s number and pray.
“Is this Tempest the Burner, or is this Tempest the Ball Buster, or . . .” he asks, pausing for dramatic effect, “is it possible that I’m talking to the one and only Tempest the Beautiful?”
“Always the charmer, Cole,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “It’s Tempest ... Cassidy.” I put heavy emphasis on my last name and smile, trying to convince myself it’s a good thing.
I’m divorced.
I’m moving on.
“Well, well, well. Sounds like congratulations are in order,” he says, his voice depicting his pleasure in my current marital status. “Proud of you, Tempest. Really.”
“Thanks. I’m not sure everyone feels the same, but—”
He huffs his displeasure at that statement. “You did the right thing. Regardless of what anyone thinks, none of this is your fault. He’s the asshole. Don’t doubt that. And you’ve been nice for far too long, so no matter what anyone else says or thinks, I’m proud of you.” He pauses and I wish I could reach through the phone and hug him. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Please tell me you’re not calling from jail, because I don’t really think—”
“I’m not calling from jail,” I interrupt, rolling my eyes again as I lean back against the wall, chewing on my thumb nail. “I need a favor.”
“Okay, shoot,” he says, then adds, “Not literally, that’s a felony.”
I huff a laugh, knowing I’ll never live down the past three months of my life. “Haha, very funny,” I say, fighting back a smile and working up the courage to ask him what I called to ask. “I was, uh, wondering if I could get a ride ... somewhere?”
“You could call Anna, she’ll probably be heading out to the Piggly Wiggly later for her Saturday night grocery run … don’t know how that woman can find entertainment in that, but whatever.”
“Well,” I drawl, breathing out deeply. “I was actually thinking more like the Pink Pony.” The last few words are expelled in a rush and I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes he won’t instantly shut me down.
“Ah, man. Tempest, I don’t feel good about this,” he whines. “Anna will kick my ass when she finds out, and don’t say she won’t find out because we both know that’s a lie. Nobody gossips like the barflies and the Baptists.”
“Cole,” I say, opting for a different angle. “I’d do it for you.”
“You’re gonna wind your ass up in jail. Again.” I can almost hear him pacing the floor, and I feel bad for putting him in this situation—really, I do. If I had another friend to call, I would, but I don’t. “Why you wanna go there anyway?”
Guilt trip in three, two, one ...
“Listen,” I say, mustering what little self-assurance I have left and try to put it all in a nutshell, needing him to understand where I’m coming from. “I spent the last eight years answering to Asher Williams’s