#TripleX (38 page)

Once the door closes behind Jake and Matt, the judge smiles and says, “I have truly enjoyed your story. I’m not sure how much of it was true—and how much was embellished fabrication for the art of story-telling, but you have certainly entertained me.” She unzips her robe, and it falls to the floor. She’s wearing a simple green dress and heels. Damn, she’s got a great body, too. Continuing, she adds, “My husband left me years ago, and I haven’t been able to find the courage to get myself back out there. I thought I was a washed up, middle-aged has-been. You two, you both have helped me want to get back out there… and what better time to start than right now?” She glances at the door and smiles. “You’re sure? Just friends?”

“I’m positive,” I clarify, crossing my heart. “There’s absolutely nothing going on with me and Jake Ryan.”

“Alright ladies, stay out of trouble,” the judge says, walking to the door, “and if you ever need anything, you know where to find me… you know, in case you ever find yourself in trouble again sometime… oh and, leave a few copies of your books with the clerk. I’d like to check them out.” She saunters confidently out the door, closing it behind her.

Angelisa walks over to her desk and picks up the mallet-thingy, and stuffs it down her jumpsuit. “What are you doing?” I ask, staring at her dumbfounded. “Have you not learned anything?”

“Dude, this just might work at home. Ya know, a gavel to keep order in my house when I need the boys’ attention,” she explains.

“They’re going to see it when they give us back our clothes.”

“What clothes? We’ve got nothing. We’re wearing these bright orange babies back to the hotel,” she smiles proudly, playing with the zipper on her jumpsuit.

Angelisa starts walking to the door. I grab her arm, stopping her. “Hey, I just want to… to…”

“Say ‘thank you?’ Apologize for being a tit?” Angelisa asks, grinning. “Or what? Make out? If it’s make out, then let me get Matt, he’s always wanted to see—”

“Shut the Hell up,” I interrupt. “I just want to say that I had fun… and… you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had.”

“You too,” Ang says, hugging me. “Too bad we don’t have a phone. We could take a
cell
fie to commemorate this moment.”

“I don’t think we need any pictures. This one’s going to stay with us forever,” I say, putting my arm around her and leaving the judge’s chambers.

“We’re number one!” I yell for the millionth time. Kevin and Evan are screaming up the stairs behind me, hurrying me into the house.

“Babe, thanks for coming to the game,” Matt says, kissing my neck.

“Yeah Mom, we couldn’t have won without you cheering like a freak out there,” Kev jokes. “We need you and your craziness.”

“Very funny! Now hit the showers,” I say, opening the fridge. “Matt when you pick up the Chinese food, stop and get some milk, please.”

“I want to go with Dad,” Evan yells, following Matt out of the kitchen.

“Me too,” Bryce yells barreling back down the stairs.

“Alright, but hurry back, the game ran late, and you both have tests tomorrow,” I scream after them. “And you both still have to shower when Kevin’s done.”

I go through the papers on the island, looking over the calendar for the rest of the week. I still have to make a dozen cupcakes (that I will not eat) for Bryce’s class tomorrow. I’m making red velvet, because that’s the only kind I can happily turn down. I won’t lie, I gained some of the weight back that Chris and I lost. Currently, I’m proudly teetering between a size twelve and fourteen. I feel good. But above all else, I feel happy—much happier than I have in years.

And Matt, God, what was I thinking? How could I have been so blind? So delusional? I was looking for something that was right in front of me all along. Our marriage is stronger and better than it’s ever been. Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever liked him more or wanted him more. I can’t even keep my middle-aged, horny hands off of him. Thankfully, he’s the same way. I love it. I love him. And truthfully, I love me—maybe for the first time ever.

My cell phone chimes. Christine. I look at the clock and frown. “What was wrong with this one?” I say, upon answering the phone.

“Eh, he picked his ears twice during the appetizer,” she groans.

Christine has been on a date every other weekend since we got back from Vegas. Whenever Scott has the girls, she’s out having the time of her life. When the girls are home with her, she’s Supermom times ten. She even sewed their Halloween costumes by hand this year. Apparently, taking Scott out of the equation made her a happy woman and a better mother. When Matt was in Michigan, I couldn’t parent alone. Parenting made no sense without him. With Chris, it’s completely the opposite. She thrives without Scott anchoring her and pulling her down.

“Maybe he had an itch. That’s not a reason to dismiss him so quickly. You’re just too picky,” I say, walking into the bathroom. “And yes that pun was intended.”

“Look, I told you before, I’m not out to fall in love, and all that bullshit. I just want to have some fun and play the field… and Ear-Picker-McGru was not fun,” she states. “Hey speaking of the field, how was the game tonight?”

“Great. Kev’s team won. He had two sacks in the backfield and one interception,” I reply, sitting down on the toilet.

“You know I have no idea what any of that means, right?” she confirms.

“I know—just know that we’re all happy and victorious here,” I say, smiling. She and I are so different, but so much alike. We’re the perfect fit. “Hey, have you talked to Jake, lately?”

“Yeah, earlier today. He’s coming to New York on business next week. We’re meeting up for drinks.”

“Drinks… and?”

“Drinks and nothing. Will you get it through your head that your brother and I are just friends?” she states, annoyed.

“Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? Plus, I’d rather have him with you than—mother fucker!” I scream, pounding the phone on the counter. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? What’s wrong?” she asks, worry in her voice.

“We’re out of fucking toilet paper.” Her laughter blasts through the phone, echoing against my ear. “Give me a goddamn break!”

“Funny you should say that,” she says, giggling. “That leads me to why I called.”

“Why? What’s up?” I ask, reaching for the tissue container on the sink, seething in frustrated anger.

Christine giggles and asks, “Did you know there’s a big author signing next summer in London?”

Readers: We do have a surprise of sorts for you. We have added scenes and some funny “extras” in the print copy of
#TripleX
. So make sure you get a paperback for more Zolendz/Stone-filled fun.

A Special Thank You to the following authors/bloggers for agreeing to “make cameos” in
#TripleX
.

(In Order of Appearance)

Colleen Hoover (and her piggy, Sailor)

Jasinda Wilder

Michelle Valentine (not the pornographic film star)

Jack Wilder

Kelli Maine (who would never hurt anyone)

Skye Jordan (aka: Joan Swan)

Virginia Carey at Love N. Books

Ellie McLove at Love N. Books

Thank you to Angela McLaurin at Fictional Formats for the creative and fun formatting of
#TripleX
.

Thank you to LP Hidalgo at Bookfabulous Designs for creating our fun, vintage, Chick-Lit
#TripleX
hot pink cover. We’re bringing Chick-Lit back, baby!

Dear Christine,

Thank you for liking me—truly, for actually liking me and WANTING to write a book with me. When you originally brought it up, I laughed and never really thought we’d actually do it. THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME DO IT. Chris, I have had more fun writing this book with you than I have had in a very long time. I cannot believe that here it is, January 12, 2015, six months after we started this thing, and we have still never met. Yet, I know more about you, your husband, your kids, and your life than I know about many of my “real” friends. I learned so much writing this book. I learned how to collaborate, how to compromise, and most importantly I learned how to let go and just laugh my ass off. Truthfully, after I quit my job, I was worried about my sanity, about staying home alone all day without human interaction and adult conversations. You saved me! Our daily talks that always end in belly-bouncing laughter are often the highlights of my lonesome afternoons. Thank you for being such a great long-distance friend. I still think we need to ditch our husbands this summer and actually do the things we conquered in this book. Because quite frankly, forty is a bunch of crusty bullshit.

To the readers of
#TripleX
, my God, thank you for reading our laugh-out-loud tale of two women trying to find themselves. Let me remind you one more time, women rock! We’ve got it rough being everything to everyone. But remember this, you have to be your own biggest fan—not your biggest critic. Look in the mirror every morning and say, “I got this,” because guess what? You do!

Readers, I’m sure you were a huge fan of Christine Zolendz’s before you began reading this book. However, if you happened to be one of my fans (or Deena Bright’s) and haven’t read any of Christine’s books, then you really need to do so. As you can see, she can really write. I’m in awe of her ability to create and describe a scene so clearly and vividly. It’s remarkable. You know that yoga scene? All hers! You know that unicorn that you all fell in love with? All hers! And she brought you back that 80s heartthrob, Jake Ryan. She’s got mad giggle and writing skills.

Christine started her writing career with the bestselling book,
Fall From Grace.
It’s the first book in the
Mad World Series
. It’s a paranormal, New Adult, sexy little series. Shane Maxton is one hot leading man. Chris thought she was a sweet, romance author, which is why she wrote the
Mad World Series.
Then, she quickly realized that she liked death, destruction, angst, and some hard-core, hot sex. (Who doesn’t, really?) That’s when Sam and Kade came along in
Brutally Beautiful
and
Cold-Blooded Beautiful
. You need to make sure you download all five of her books. You certainly won’t be sorry. Also, be on the lookout for
The End of US
. It’s her next novel coming out. Personally, I wanted it to be called
Ash
, but she doesn’t always listen to me. She tends to do her own thing from time-to-time. (Whore!) You should probably clear off an entire shelf on your bookshelf, because Christine Zolendz is going to fill it pretty damn quickly.