The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,4
a finger around the rim of her glass, a small part of her agreeing but not willing to acknowledge it. “Hamlyn was a nice guy. He treated me well, he didn’t leave the toilet seat up, and he always recapped the toothpaste.”
“That’s awfully nice of him, but did he rock your world?”
Heat seeped into Samira’s cheeks as she silently cursed the girls’ night out they’d had when Pia last visited LA three months ago, when she’d consumed too many margaritas and blurted the sorry tale of her lackluster sex life.
She loved her cousin, and despite living on different continents, they were closer than ever. They Skyped and emailed several times a week, and Pia made an annual pilgrimage to LA. Yet another thing Samira felt guilty about: not reciprocating.
“Whatever.” Samira shrugged. “Besides, Hamlyn is history.”
She’d made sure of it when he suggested they move in together after only dating four months. He’d been her longest relationship post-divorce, but familiarity bred comfort, and to her that meant one thing: trouble.
“Uh-oh.” Pia’s eyes widened before she shook her head. “You’re not still pining for Avi?”
“Hell no.” Bitterness clogged her throat. “I got over that prick a long time ago.”
She hadn’t loved Avi, not at the start. That had come later, after she’d allowed herself to be swept into the Bollywood fantasy she’d always craved. Avi was handsome, suave, and charming, and she’d been sucked in, marrying him within nine months. Over a year later, she’d discovered he’d had an affair, got some nineteen-year-old kuthi pregnant, and was leaving her because that bitch could give him something she couldn’t: a baby.
Since then, she’d vowed to find love her way. Twelve years later, she was still looking.
Pia’s smile waned, and something soft and warm flickered in her coal black eyes. Samira loved that about her. As hard as Pia pushed her, she always knew when to back down. “Fine. You’re over Avi, the Hamster’s history, and you’ve got a smorgasbord of hot Aussie guys waiting for you.”
“I don’t need a fling.”
Samira gestured to the barman for another round of drinks and reached for a strand of hair to twirl around her finger, a lifelong habit, and came up empty. Maybe getting a layered bob the day after she’d dumped Hamlyn hadn’t been such a great idea.
“You’re in denial.” Pia’s plucked eyebrows shot high. “We both know Wham-Bam-Ham was a three-minute wonder. He was a fuddy-duddy stuck in his ways and boring as bat shit.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what you need? A boy toy. Some hot younger guy to give you a damn good screwing to get rid of the cobwebs.”
Samira wished she could duck behind the polished chrome bar as the barman placed their second round of vodkatinis in front of them, his deadpan expression and barely perceptible twitching mouth signaling he’d heard every word her mega-mouth cousin had said.
Samira reached for her drink and gave her cousin some serious side-eye. “Don’t you have a husband to go home to and annoy?”
“Dev knows where I am. Besides, he’s had his quota of annoyance for one day. It’s your turn.”
“Lucky me,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Pia studied her with an astute gaze. “You’ll have a ball while you’re here. You’ll meet guys, you’ll flirt, you’ll have a fling, and you’ll feel fabulous.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” She clinked glasses with Pia.
“Here’s to Samira Broderick doing the entire eastern seaboard of Australia.” Pia raised her glass before downing her drink in one long chug without spilling a drop.
“I’d settle for one not-so-nice, sex-mad, no-strings-attached type of guy.”
She imitated Pia’s effort, tossing it back quickly, hoping the vodka would help her residual insomnia from crossing the international date line and result in blissful slumber. Considering it was her third drink in twenty minutes and she had a buzz going, goal achieved: she’d probably pass out the minute she hit the bed.
When Pia continued to study her, the scrutiny too intense, Samira changed the subject. “So how are things coming along at the health center?”
Thankfully, Pia bought her diversion. Her cousin’s eyes lit up as she waxed lyrical for the next fifteen minutes about her pride and joy. Samira interjected when needed, but she was content to sit back and listen to Pia. Her cousin’s excitement was infectious, and she looked forward to the challenge of helping her launch the center as a primary allied health venue in Melbourne.
Pia eventually ran out of glowing reports and poked her in the arm. “You should’ve