by N. M. Silber
Marilyn, Jane, and Rochelle, sat around and watched in scandalized astonishment as the “playas” around us picked up women on the make. I don’t know what the library gang had expected to experience here; tea and crumpets with the Queen? This club was the new “hot spot” in the city, and thus, it was the most fertile hunting grounds for young and beautiful Philadelphians searching for relationships of extremely short duration. The other librarians thought this club was cool, and hip, and sexy. Bruce and I realized, of course, that it was just trendy. It was Junior High School with a liquor license. Even though we were unimpressed, though, we were both basically kind people, so we pretended that this was all very exciting.
“Did you see that?!” Jane asked sounding like she had just witnessed someone commit a crime. “The way they were dancing, they might as well have been having intercourse.” And yes, she really did just say “intercourse”. Jane had derived her sexual vocabulary from her sixth grade health class. I could just imagine her in the throes of passion. ‘Don’t stop inserting your penis into my vagina! I’m going to achieve orgasm’!
“The guy doesn’t have any rhythm,” Bruce commented. “He’s probably a lousy lay.” He was just noting it idly, and I agreed without giving it much thought, but the other three broke into blushes and giggles. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. These girls were the types who would blush and giggle reading a Victoria’s Secret catalogue. I tried to remember again why I was there. Celebrating. We’re celebrating. Yippee. I slurped my drink.
I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s not like I had anything better to do on a Saturday night. I worked every day as a research librarian and then went home and wrote books. On Sunday evenings I got together with some girlfriends of mine, and Bruce and his partner, Jason, had been inviting me over for dinner more often lately. Sometimes I even went out on dates. The guys were nice; some were even charming, but let’s just say that the Earth didn’t move for me. Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure that I wanted nice. Not that I wanted to date some guy who treated me badly either. I just want someone who sparked some kind of … reaction. It was November and getting colder in more ways than one. That summer and early fall had been more interesting. A guy who I had being doing battle with since childhood seemed to suddenly start looking at me like a desirable woman and that had, most definitely, created a reaction!
It certainly inspired my writing! I wrote some really spicy love scenes with him in mind. In fact, the book that I had just published had a tall, well-built hero with dark brown hair, laughing brown eyes and just a touch of five o’clock shadow. The heroine had voluminous brown locks, big brown eyes and long lashes. It didn’t take Sigmund Freud to figure out that I was describing Adam and me, and oh boy, did they get down and dirty! Let’s face it, I had written my sexual fantasies into a romance novel. Hell, if I couldn’t have a real “happily ever after” at least I could make one up.
Although we had been mortal enemies since the first day of preschool, the minute that Adam Roth had begun to direct his over-abundant sexual energy my way, it had felt like a tsunami rolling over me. The tension between us had built and finally one night he had almost kissed me and I had almost let him. We were interrupted though. And the next time we were alone together it was at the wedding of our close friends. He seemed distracted and we went our separate ways without a word about our “almost kiss” and with no plans to see each other again.
Even if we had seen each other, though, it wouldn’t have mattered. Adam was a womanizer so I didn’t expect anything to ever develop. His friend Braden, the groom in said wedding, had been too, but not like Adam, I suspected. As if to underscore that fact, when I was on my third Martini Bruce’s gaze became riveted by something over my left shoulder.
“Uh oh,” he mouthed. Our three co-workers were engrossed in conversation about the way some of the women in this place were (shockingly!) aggressively flirting with the men. In any event, the ladies’ sewing circle wasn’t paying us any attention so Bruce and I spoke freely, or more like shouted freely.
“Uh oh what?” I asked.
“Your boy is here.” I knew immediately who he meant and I tensed up. I had unburdened myself to Bruce one night over too much wine. He assured me that telling secrets to a gay man over wine didn’t count as a confession, but rather, was just the natural order of things. One day, not long after, Adam had come into the law library and I pointed him out to Bruce, who had been very impressed. In fact, he was so impressed that I had to put my hand over his mouth before he announced it to everyone present. Nobody disputed the fact that Adam was hot.
“What’s he doing?” I asked, pretty sure I didn’t want to know.
“I don’t think you want to know,” he answered, confirming my suspicions.
“Wonderful. Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any better.” I sloshed down some more alcohol. Maybe I would be lucky enough to have a blackout.
“Now that’s interesting,” Bruce said, apparently analyzing whatever Adam was doing. I wanted to know now. I had to admit Bruce was usually on target with his observations.
“Tell me,” I said resignedly. “It’s better that I hear it. It’ll help me regain my sanity.”
“He’s chatting up a blonde.”
“What’s so interesting about that?” I asked, wondering if I had done something awful in a past life to deserve this night. The last thing I needed at this point was to watch the guy who I secretly wanted pick up some other chick.
“He looks bored. Like he’s just going through the motions. She, on the other hand, is pouring it on. She just leaned over and practically shoved her tits in his face.”
“Classy,” I said, feeling my stomach starting to roil. “I want to leave.” A month and a half ago he sat in my room when I was scared so I could fall asleep, and for a brief moment it had felt … intimate. “Don’t be an ass, Lily,” I told myself sternly. “You were female, available and alone in the same bedroom with him but you were both too tired to do anything about it. That’s all it was.”
“Not yet you don’t, sister! He needs a reminder of what a truly sexy woman, who’s worth the effort, looks like. He hasn’t seen you in a month and I want to see his reaction when he does. Come on.”
“Come on where?”
“To the dance floor, of course!”
He yanked me out of my seat and I staggered after him, although I really couldn’t tell you why I did. Bruce just had a way of compelling me to do things. The pounding music was starting to give me a pounding headache and I had a feeling that if any more lights flashed in my eyes I might go blind. I really wasn’t in the mood to shake my booty but Bruce wasn’t going to take no for an answer. We got out onto the dance floor and Bruce starting channeling his inner boy band, busting out all of his fanciest moves.
“What are you auditioning for?” I shouted at him over the music.
“One of us has to catch your boy’s attention and you’re moving like you’re in a body cast,” he shouted back, swiveling his hips like Elvis in the early days. “It’s too bad Jason was on call tonight. If he were here we could have gotten really raunchy.”
“And what happened to showing Adam a woman worth the effort? I don’t know that having a threesome under the disco ball would exactly set me apart from his current companion.”
“She’s not his companion anymore. He ditched her.”
“Are you sure that she’s not just blowing him under the table?”
“I just love your girlish charm,” he yelled back at me.
“I feel the same way about you,” I responded. Hearing that Adam had changed his mind about Ms. Titty cheered me up a little and I found myself loosening up a bit. Eventually, I got lost in the music and I let my mind drift.
“I think you have an admirer,” Bruce shouted a few minutes later.
“I have many admirers,” I joked.
“This one is a tall, dark and handsome prosecutor.” Suddenly, he backed up and practically doubled over laughing.
>
“Are you choking on something? Because I don’t remember any of that Heimlich shit from Girl Scouts.” He punched me in the shoulder, still laughing his ass off. “Ouch! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Come on Lil. Will you try to look like you’re having some fun for Christ’s sake?” he shouted/growled through his self-induced mirth. He grabbed my hand and spun me around twice. Not a great idea after three Martinis. I wound up facing the other way and when the room stopped spinning too I looked up and saw Adam reclining in a chair at a table not far from where we were, with an amused look on his face. He smiled and waved. I furrowed my brows and Bruce yanked me back around.
“Why didn’t you wave back?” he demanded with a maniacal smile. He was so intent on looking like he was having a blast that he was now dancing like a muppet.
“Because he’s laughing at me!” Bruce looked like he was having a spasm. Someone would probably call the paramedics.
“He’s not laughing at you. Well, maybe a little, but not in a mean way. More in a ‘she’s pretty adorable’ way. I’m telling you!”
“I’m not adorable,” I said, feeling unreasonably irritated. “Chipmunks are adorable. I’m empowered!”
“Since you’re so liberated I guess you don’t care that he’s seriously checking you out.”
“He is? Not that it matters.”
“How often am I wrong?” He had me there. “So after this song, we’ll walk back to our table past him. Stop and say ‘hi’ and try not to look like you’re having a colonoscopy.”
The song ended and Bruce started fanning himself like a Southern Belle and acting more effeminate than I had ever seen him act before. Ever. Good grief! This performance deserved an award. He practically skipped off the dance floor. I sighed, tried not to look nervous and walked in Adam’s direction.
“Lily, fancy meeting you here!” Adam shouted with a smile. I tried to figure out if there was an insult in there somewhere. Maybe I hadn’t heard him well enough.
“You’re not going to call me Lilith?” I asked suspiciously.
“Feeling succubus-like this evening?”
“Perhaps some other time,” I yelled back and he actually laughed.
“Hello! I’m Bruce!” Bruce said, holding his hand like he expected Adam to kiss it. He just gave it a quick shake instead. “Lily is keeping me company while my partner, Jason, is on call at the hospital where he works.”
“In case you didn’t catch that, Bruce was telling you that he’s gay and therefore we are not here together in the romantic sense. Why he thinks you would care isn’t really clear.”
Bruce scowled at me and then rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to be a little nicer, Lil?” he demanded.
“What?” I sputtered, feeling appalled. “If you think that wasn’t nice you should hear the things he’s said to me!”
“Well, he didn’t say any of them tonight. I think you should apologize for being so unfriendly.” My mouth literally popped open but Bruce just continued to give me his most reproving look. I sighed.
“I’m sorry I was unfriendly,” I shouted. I mentioned how Bruce could compel me to do things, right? Sometimes I wondered if he had mind-control powers.
“I accept your apology,” Adam answered, looking like he was trying not to laugh. I wondered if the busses were still running so I could throw myself under one. Bruce took his cell out of his pocket and read a text message.
“Oh shit! Jason got called in and I have his keys. I have to run. Maybe one of the girls can take you home, Lil. Or better yet, let me call you a cab.”
“It’s okay. I can call one.”
“I’ll take you home,” Adam cut in. I looked at him in shock. Bruce looked at him with glee and beat it out of there so fast he practically left a dust cloud in his path. He was gone before he could say “beep beep.” I guess that Adam was taking me home. Oh God.
The Judge
The Honorable Louis Channing
The Attorney for
The Defense
Gabrielle Ginsberg, Esq.
The Attorney for
The Commonwealth
Braden Pierce, Esq.
The Defendants
Lance Jennings
A/K/A The Pecker
Mary Catherine McLaughlin
A/K/A Sister Badass
Tammy Sue Luchinsky
A/K/A The Lonely Lady
Joseph Sanders
A/K/A The Honest Robber
Lucy Stemple
A/K/A The Naked Divorcee
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank Karen, Michelle, and Rosette at Literati Author Services for going above and beyond for me in their role as my publicists. I would also like to thank my terrific Street Team, The Jury, for their enthusiastic support and loyalty. It means a great deal to me. Thanks to my friends, Taryn Plendl, Jennifer Stevens, and Joyce Turner-Blanker for being funny and cool authors. Thanks to everyone who took the time to write a nice review for The Law of Attraction. Thanks to all the readers and bloggers who have given me their support over the months and patiently waited while I found the rest of Gabrielle and Braden’s story in my head and in my heart. Finally, last but never least, thanks to my wonderful family who I love. I have the most amazing husband and kids!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Once upon a time … N.M. Silber was a criminal defense attorney who got up each morning, donned her power suit and sensible pumps, downed a gallon of coffee and set out to “fight the good fight” while trying to not go insane. Having a dark sense of humor and a sarcastic wit helped — a lot. Another thing that helped was reading. As escapism was the goal, she liked to read romance novels, especially really funny ones and really sexy ones. Then one day something beautiful happened — she read one that was both funny and sexy at the same time. She hung up her power suit, put away her sensible pumps and moved her coffee mug to her computer. Now she writes funny and sexy romance novels herself and she lives happily ever after.
In her former career N.M. Silber was a criminal defense attorney working in a major city on the East Coast of the United States. She had several non-fiction articles published and edited a legal journal before turning her attention to writing novels. Using her experiences in the criminal court system as a starting place, she developed the engaging cast of characters and the humorous story lines of her romantic comedies.