“I am happy.” Something I never questioned until recently. “And I don’t know how many times I’ve told you I’m not getting married.”

“Who’s getting married?”

“Hi Ma.” I stood up and kissed my mother’s cheek. “No one. Molly is just bustin’ chops, as usual. Hey, Pops, how’s it going?”

My dad slapped my back and pulled me in for a hug. I watched my sisters’ smiles tighten imperceptibly. Since his Alzheimer’s diagnosis we couldn’t help but walk on eggshells.

“What’s happening? Where are the guys?” Everyone released the breath they were holding. My dad never forgot that when the air was suffocating with female hormones it was best to exit as quickly as possible. Today must be a good day.

“Good call. The basement, let’s go.”

Not two feet back into the house, Emma came bounding around the corner. “Pop, Unkie Ashy, see my baby, hers poops and pees.”

“She what?” My seventy-five-year-old father looked at me. I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

“Don’t ask, Pop. Emma baby, where are your cousins?”

“In the payroom doin’ dress up. I’s Tinkerbell, come see.”

So much for joining the testosterone.

“Head down, Dad, I’ll go with Emma for bit.” My dad appreciated the reprieve. He patted her head and bolted, while I let Emma tug me away. “Where to, darling?”

One step through that door and I knew I was not leaving the same way I came in. “Girls, holy … what the...” My voice trailed off before I dropped the f-bomb in front of my three to thirteen-year-old nieces. “Do your mothers know what you’re doing?” I coughed then held my breath. Between the colored hair spray, nail polish fumes and feathers floating through the air I was sure I was high. They were covered in every shade of eye shadow and lipstick showered with glitter and sequins. It was like Barbie vomited all over Tweetie.

“Hey, Uncle Asher. We’re just practicing for Halloween. What are you dressing up as? Mom said you had a cool grown-up party to go to?” the oldest chimed in.

“Don’t know, any ideas?”

One of my biggest clients hosted one of those over-the-top parties every year. It was stupid, but I still had to make an appearance. Remember where your bread was buttered bullshit.

“Come on, Uncle Asher, Halloween’s next week. You need a cool costume.”

“Cool, huh?” As for my costume, it didn’t matter as long as whoever was on my arm had fishnets and thigh highs. And then I cringed and wished those thoughts away because my five nieces were standing in front of me. Some douche would be drooling over them soon enough. I did not envy my brothers-in-law. All I knew was if I ever had a girl, not that I could or would, but if I did, I sure as hell would keep her locked in her room until she was twenty-five. “Well let’s not waste all this hard work. Get together. I want a pic of all of you in your costumes since I won’t see you next week.” I snapped a shot with my cell and decided I needed that testosterone ASAP.

“Unkie Ashy, wait, my wings is falling off. My wings is broookeeen.” Cue flail on the floor and sob, the kid went boneless. I peeled her screaming jellied body off the carpet and deposited her with my mother and fled the scene without a glance back.


Bet you can’t beat this.


I sent Talia the photo of my nieces. My five girls.


Wow. I see you sat this one out...

Afraid pink and feathers might ruin ur complexion

And I bet I can...


A second text immediately followed, a picture. A rock formation with water flowing into a spectacular crystal blue pool. But that’s not what I focused on. The picture was snapped from someone sitting on a plush lounge chair with bare legs and perfectly manicured crossed feet. Images of rolling my tongue up that silky smoothness while caressing those pale pink toes flooded my vision. Shit. I stepped into the bathroom and adjusted my jeans.


You win.


I joined the men in the basement and fortunately missed the lame tool discussion. Then again, it might have bored my dick back to soft. Damn picture. Charlie was talking about a new sailboat he was considering. A fifty-foot catamaran. Impressive.

“Man, that’s awesome. Congrats. Can’t wait to go out with you in the spring.” I grew up with a boat and definitely got the appeal. It wasn’t the adrenaline rush from a killer mountain bike ride or a rock climb, but I wouldn’t mind getting back out on the water.

“Yeah, I’m psyched. I’ve always wanted something like this, but I haven’t had the balls to pull the trigger. We need another vessel in the water, especially with the school expansion. Just hope we can pull it off.”

I assumed his sailing school was killing it. But what did I know? My sisters were as proud as my old man. To truly enjoy it, you needed to earn it. Stubborn family trait. Like I was one to talk. “Speaking of, I was talking about your sail school with one of my clients.” White lie. “He’s always looking for investments and write offs. Told him about the program you ran last summer with the special needs kids. He’s interested in funding it. All of it. Say the word. I’ll set it up.”

“Shit. That would be amazing. That’s a huge draw on the budget.”

“Done. I’ll make the call. One condition—you pull the trigger on the fifty-footer and I get to take her for a spin.”

“You got it. Thanks, bro.”

“You don’t have to thank me, man. Easy work for my firm and I just scored free sailing. Win, win.” We clinked our beers and I made a mental note to create another imaginary client, as well as make another deposit into the kids’ trust funds. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. They deserved it.

The familiar buzz interrupted and I excused myself. “Well, well, well. We were just talking about the king and his queen. Everything okay in the world of sushi?”

“Yeah, you ass. It’s awesome. You at dinner?” Chase questioned.

“What do you think?” He knew exactly where I was. Guarantee his sentimental ass called Maggie first thing this morning and checked in like he did every family dinner that he wasn’t parked at the table. “Wait. You miss me. You fucking miss me. I knew you would—can’t go three weeks without talking to me.”

“Oh, shut the hell up. Lili wanted me to call and make sure you’re behaving.”

“Blame it on the wife. Good, C. Mature.”

“You’re such an asshole. It’s confirmed you’re still a dick, so now I can enjoy the rest of my trip. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Miss you too. See you in a couple of weeks,” I mumbled through laughter before I hung up the phone.

I was surprised by another annoying pang of guilt. Not that I would have told him on his honeymoon that I bumped into Talia Prince. I meant Pryce. Besides there wasn’t much to tell. We crossed paths, spoke once, and texted a couple of times. Right, keep telling myself that.


A crazy busy week with zero Talia communication just confirmed the fact that I had nothing to tell. Halloween came and I found myself with a sexy nurse on my arm. Decked in fishnets and black patent thigh-high boots. Score. Her skirt was so short that if she coughed I saw her ass, just how I liked it. Alone, preferably near a bed. But unfortunately, I was standing in the middle of a grand foyer made to look like an insanely realistic graveyard. If he weren’t a six-figure client who paid for a good portion of my livelihood, I would not have been here. This was not my scene. I did parties; I did women. I didn’t do sleaze.

“Craig, what the hell are you supposed to be?” This guy was kidding me dressed as Fred Flintstone. Really. “Actually, forget it.” He directed his attention to my date. “Lovely, this old man is in need of a personal nurse. Please say you’ll consider the job.”

My date politely giggled, but I didn’t miss her grasp on my arm tighten. Smart girl.

“Think you’re in capable hands.” I gestured toward Marcus Powell’s pubescent escort. Wasn’t Pebbles the daughter? Sick.

Marcus got my message. “Excellent point, counselor.” He pinched Pebbles’ ass. Dirtball. “Make yourself at home.” He waved his hand in both directions without lifting his creepy gaze above my date’s cleavage. I could have sworn I felt goose bumps rise over her flesh.

“Let’s get a drink, Asher.” She tugged on my arm, leading me away from Mr. Flintstone. This was why business should be left in the boardroom. Another five minutes in his company and he was going to need a new lawyer to close his next deal. Eighteen mill or not.

Surrounded by dirty old men with questionably legal arm candy, we ponied ourselves up to the spider web-covered bar and ordered a quick drink. Shocker, she ordered a fruity cosmopolitan, and so began the mindless chatter. Eyeing the candy fishbowl, my mind wondered to what a certain classy blonde doctor was doing tonight. No doubt, not this.

Trick or treating in Manhattan when we were kids was dumb. You were only allowed in your own building, and the nicer buildings (where we were lucky enough to live) discouraged guests so you couldn’t even hang with your friends. Really dumb, actually. We were probably nine or so when the four of us boycotted and opted for double-header movies. Every year, same theatre, same time. Until we hit high school and the Coltons forced Chase and Kim to show face at their annual masquerade event. Charity, my ass. But Talia insisted the two of us continue the tradition. She picked one flick, usually an action movie, and I picked the other, always a horror. Like it mattered. For a few hours straight, my brain would bounce between horny and rational. My dilemma was sitting in the dark next to the hottest girl I knew but unable to do jack shit because she was my best friend. Four hour hard-ons seriously sucked.