client, right? And besides, she’s my friend and needs help. You won’t let me down here, will you?”
Letting Amy down was something Colette was determined not to do. And Amy knew it. Occasionally, like right now, she used it to her advantage. However, there was no way Colette would help if Erika wasn’t an adult.
“You can’t hire My Alibi unless you’re eighteen. And if she isn’t eighteen, I can’t help her.”
“She is eighteen. Her birthday was last month.”
Sure enough, the client’s date of birth on the application matched Amy’s statement.
“Come on, she’s an adult looking for an alibi, and she isn’t lying to a husband. She simply wants to spend some time with her boyfriend. You’ll help her, right? Give her a chance at true love?” Amy asked. “For me?”
Colette sighed.“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll help her.”
Amy leaned forward and hugged her sister, while her long ponytail smothered Colette’s face and made her smile.
“You’re rotten, you know that, don’t you?” Colette asked.
“Yep,” Amy agreed, moving back to her bag and holding up the new toy. Her mission had been accomplished, so naturally, she turned her focus back to her newest product.
“Tell your friend I’ll help her this one time, but I don’t plan to do it again. She really shouldn’t be lying to her uncle.”
“Got it,” Amy said, punching a finger in the air for emphasis, but her eyes never ventured from the vibrator. “Isn’t it amazing?” She switched her voice to produce infomercial appeal, flicked the switch and started the thing buzzing. “This exclusive curve allows the smooth, pulsing tip to hit the G-spot precisely. Every time. And if that doesn’t pique your interest, feast your eyes on this.” Sounding like a late-night home-shopping host, she pushed a small button on the handle with her index finger. “Ahhh, see? The end lights up like a rainbow.”
Holding the glowing contraption against her forearm, Amy let the pulsating head play against her skin while she giggled. “Cool, huh?”
Okay. Colette failed to see why illuminating like a multicolored strobe light would be of importance, particularly if you considered where those colors would be located if and when they hit the proverbial bull’s-eye. But she humored Amy, nonetheless. “Yeah, sis. Real cool. If you have a spot to find.”
Amy punched the switch and dropped Pinky to the couch, where it rolled like a deformed banana until lodging between the back of the sofa and the cushion. “No way. You haven’t found it? Jeff hasn’t found it? Geez, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Colette merely smirked. From what she could tell, Jeff did good to find his own part, much less hers. But rather than elaborate on how extremely dull those six months had been, she dialed the number listed on the My Alibi fact sheet.
“Seriously? Did he, you know, even look for it?” Amy asked, obviously bewildered at this revelation.
Did he look for it?
Hmmm. Let’s think about it. Well, that’d be a definite no. Matter of fact, all he looked for, as far as Colette could tell, was his own satisfaction. Which he obtained. Every time.
And pretty dang quick, at that.
Funny thing was, Jeff looked and acted every part the ladies’ man. Strutted around with his much-too-muscled chest puffed out, his politician’s smile plastered on tight and every wavy hair in place. Oh, and not a single tan line on his body, thank you very much. Or thank his home-tanning bed, coupled with his ritual to make certain he stayed on each side the same number of minutes.
Colette had mistakenly believed the attention he paid to his looks stemmed from his business, rather than his mega-ego. He’d used his primary asset, his body, to promote a growing chain of health-food stores; therefore, he had to look healthy, right?
Of course, the result was quite phenomenal. Folks saw him as their goal and bought his stuff aplenty. The fact he’d tacked on a couple of Atlanta’s Best Body titles didn’t hurt either. Yep, he was pretty to look at, all right.
But a dud in the sack.
Heck, Colette would’ve bet plenty of money on his ability to please.
She’d have lost that bet.
Shoot, she’d have put money on him staying true too.
Ditto for losing the wager.
“In case you’ve forgotten, Jeff and I have been over for two months. Matter of fact, I heard he put a ring on Emily Smith’s finger last weekend. Just as well, since he was banging her the whole time we were together. Hey, who knows? Maybe he found her G-spot. He sure