Holly and Her Naughty eReader Read Online Free

me
along,” said Vivian. “Nothing like your story, but enough to know how it
works.”
    We drove a few blocks and she turned
right on Central Avenue.
    “You’re not taking me downtown
are you?” I said.
    “No, I’m not taking you downtown,” Vivian said. “I’m taking us downtown. And it’s gonna be a great
time.”
    Twenty minutes later we were on
Albuquerque’s little downtown party strip, where two adventurous ladies could
hop between a dozen bars all within walking distance of each other.
    At the Anodyne we played pool
with some hipsters. At Burt’s Tiki Lounge we had Mai Tai’s while some kids
barely older than my students flirted with us. At The Launchpad we drank Cosmos
and listened to some band called Dirty Carburetor (they were awful).
    Our final bar of the night was
the Downtown Distillery, where we stumbled into a booth at 1:30 in the morning
and ordered two beers. The music here was low enough that we could talk, and
our conversation drifted back to my failed relationship with Derek. This time I
gave Vivian the complete story, starting at the educator conference where I met
him and continuing through his rise up the ranks of the Dallas Public Schools,
from history teacher to assistant principle to city councilman.
    “It was all kind of thrilling,”
I said, “and I was so sure he was the one. He was handsome and well-spoken and
a gentleman and he treated me like his trophy wife. Once he won the council
seat we started hanging out with all the local power players. We had lunch with
the mayor, we played tennis with a news anchor and her husband, we went to
black tie charity galas, and everybody treated me like a queen when they found
out I was a high school teacher. To these people, I was everything that was
right with the world. It really was a great time, and I was having so much fun
I was totally oblivious to what was happening between Derek and Marianne.”
    “Ah, so now she has a name,” Vivian
said. “Tell me more about Marianne. I can already tell she’s a world class
bitch.”
    “Marianne was a volunteer on
Derek’s city council campaign,” I said. “A nineteen-year-old volunteer.”
    Vivian shook her head in
disgust.
    “And before she was a volunteer
on Derek’s campaign, she was a student in his class,” I said.
    “No!” Vivian gasped. “He cheated
on you with a student?”
    “A former student. She had Derek
for U.S. history when she was a junior in high school. When I caught them naked
in bed together, she was a freshman at U.T. Dallas.”
    “So she was legal,” said Vivian,
clearly upset that I wasn’t able to catch Derek in an act of statutory rape.
    “Yep. Legal and hot and a total
slut. I should be thankful, really. Were it not for Marianne, I would have
married that prick.”
    “Well then,” said Vivian,
raising her glass. “To Marianne, the slut who saved you.”
    “To Marianne,” I said, then
downed the last drink of the night.
    Neither of us was in a condition
to drive home, so we got in a cab at two in the morning.
    “You have any more party in you
tonight, or are you done?” Vivian asked me as the cab drove east on Central.
    “Neither,” I said. “I want
pancakes.”
    “Pancakes?”
    “I can’t help it. My friend
Natalie always takes me to IHOP after a night drinking.”
    Vivian laughed. “Okay. But I
can’t do IHOP. That place grosses me out.”
    “Village Inn?” I said.
    “No greasy spoons,” said Vivian.
“If you want pancakes, you’re coming to my house and I’m making you some.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Yes! My sister brought me a
gallon of maple syrup from Connecticut last month and I need an excuse to use
it. Besides, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
    “Meet someone at your house?
Vivian, it’s awfully late to--”
    “No more questions,” Vivian
said. “You’ll see when you get there.”
    She had the cab driver take us
to a one-story brick house in Albuquerque’s Southeast Heights. Vivian fumbled
with her keys and