After the Kiss Read Free

a result, most every evening was filled with some sort of social obligation where they were expected to appease advice-seeking women while warding off horny men who wanted to see if the women’s actions matched their articles.
    “There she is,” Julie said, nodding toward Riley.
    Grace gave a low whistle. “She realizes this is an education fund-raiser, right? Not a Playboy bunny convention?”
    “She can’t help it,” Julie said, taking another sip of champagne. “She could wear a tent and still give off sex vibes.”
    Julie liked to think that she and Grace were a couple of good-looking broads, but Riley McKenna was a whole other level of gorgeous. Tonight she’d apparently decided to play up the bombshell routine, because her red silk dress pushed the envelope of decency. Her long raven hair had been pulled into some kind of postcoital updo, and her smoky makeup made her ice-blue eyes smolder.
    “Jeez, I think even
I’m
getting warm looking at her,” Grace muttered.
    “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Greg.”
    “Are you kidding? I’m sure the thought would give him a perpetual boner.”
    Julie was careful to keep the distaste off her face. Grace and Greg Parsons had been dating since, like, puberty and were one of those nauseating couples who finished each other’s sentences. Even their names, Greg and Grace, made them sound like characters from some horrible fifties sitcom. Not to mention they were the king and queen of movie nights. Julie had seen the permanent butt indentations on their couch.
    All of which would have been fine if Greg were good enough for Grace.
    He wasn’t.
    Julie would never say so to Grace, but in Julie’s self-proclaimed expert opinion, Greg Parsons was a total swine. She didn’t like the way he forgot to say thank you for the way Grace managed his life. Didn’t like the way he checked out the waitress’s ass every time Grace went to the restroom.
    And she
really
didn’t like the way Greg had once propositioned Riley for a one-night stand after Grace had gone home from a party early with a headache.
    Riley had insisted they forget about it. That it had just been a bad joke after too much booze.
    Julie wasn’t so sure.
    But neither was she about to get in the middle of her best friend’s love life. Much safer to get in the middle of everyone
else’s
love life via her
Stiletto
articles.
    “Hello, my pretties,” Riley said, giving them both air kisses, careful not to spill a drop ofher champagne. “Anyone seen Camille?”
    “Not yet,” Julie said. “I think we have a few minutes until show time.”
    “Thank God—I need a drink first. So what are we talking about?”
    “Julie was about to whine about the bum story idea from Camille,” Grace said.
    “Oh, yeah?” Riley asked. “What are we dealing with here? Herpes? Butt plugs? Necrophilia?”
    Necrophilia?
Julie stared at her best friend. “What is wrong with you? I said it was
awful
, not completely creepy.”
    Riley shrugged. “You say potato, I say poh-tah-to.”
    “Actually, nobody says poh-tah-to,” Grace muttered.
    “Seriously, Jules, what’s the story?” Riley pressed.
    Julie dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m supposed to talk about
taking things to the next level
.”
    Riley stared at her for several seconds before shooting a puzzled glance at Grace, who shrugged. “That’s it? Why are you in such a tizzy? That’s the journalistic equivalent of Wonder bread. You can write that in your sleep.”
    Julie tossed back the rest of her champagne. Apparently she had to spell it out for them. “I don’t know how to write about it because I’ve never actually done it.”
    “Done what?”
    “Taken things to the next level.”
    “Sure you have,” Riley said with a dismissive wave. “You’re the queen of relationships. Just in the past year there’ve been Erik, Graham, Jason, Matt, and Ben. And last year there were Stephen, Dan, Brett, and let’s see, who else …”
    Julie held up a finger.