Free Operation One Night Stand by Christine Hughes

feel pretty every now and then or need occasional validation from a member of the opposite sex is a liar, doesn’t know how to give a good blow job, and probably hasn’t ever had an orgasm. Nothing worse than an orgasmless liar.”
    “What are you saying?” I couldn’t follow Melody’s train of thought. It wasn’t the first time.
    “I’m saying we need orgasms and to say you don’t is a lie.”
    “I can see how you were saying that.” Sarah nodded.
    “I guess so.” I contemplated what they had said while keeping myself busy with my soda straw. “You both have valid points. Just do me a favor and don’t let me become a slut.”
    “Aw, sweetie. Who are we to judge?”
    “True.”
    I sat lost in thought for a bit when my phone rang. I reached into my gym bag and dug it out. I didn’t recognize the number.
    “Who is it?” Sarah asked.
    “No idea. Local, though.”
    “Answer it.”
    Right .
    “Hello?”
    “Caroline?”
    “Yes?”
    “This is, uh, Ryan.”
    There’s the accent. I am quite sure my eyes bugged out of my head.
    “Who is it?” Sarah whispered.
    Placing my hand over the phone I replied, “Ryan.”
    Melody made a crude gesture as she bobbed her head up and down, her fist in front of her mouth. I rolled my eyes.
    “Caroline, you there?”
    “Oh, sorry. Yeah. How are you?” I stared at my friends, who were trying to keep from laughing.
    “Good. So, today was weird. Running into you at the gym, I mean.”
    “Yeah. Weird. So what’s up?”
    “Don’t be rude,” Melody whispered.
    “I mean, what are you doing?” I made a face at her.
    “Nothing. Look, I was wondering, if you’re free, I mean, if you wanted to have dinner on Friday.”
    “We’ll be in Jamaica Friday.” I have to say, I was disappointed.
    “Well, then the following Friday?”
    “The following Friday?” I looked at Sarah and Melody again. I wasn’t sure what to do.
    “Say yes!” Melody squeaked a little too loudly.
    “Did I interrupt you?” Ryan sounded concerned.
    “No, just a, uh”—I stood and walked away from the table—“dog.”
    Melody stuck her tongue out at me while Sarah gave me the finger and barked.
    “Oh, so Friday after next?”
    “Yeah. Sure. Sounds great.” I was fidgety, running my hands through my hair, effectively pulling most of it out of my ponytail holder.
    “Excellent. So, I’ll pick you up at eight?”
    “Yeah, sure. Sounds great. You know where I live.” I was a queen wordsmith. All the great ones repeat themselves. Good thing I was starting my new assistant editor job in a week.
    “That I do,” Ryan replied with what I perceived to be a bit of innuendo. I didn’t know what to do with that.
    “So, okay. I’ll see you next week.”
    “That you will. Have fun in Jamaica. Bye, Caroline.”
    “Bye.”
    I hung up and walked back to the table only to find my two best friends whispering with their heads together.
    “So I have a date with Ryan. I don’t really know what to do with that.”
    Melody clapped her hands. “From what I hear, you know exactly what to do with that.”
    I dropped my head to the table, slowly banging it a few times.
    “Ryan.” Sarah elongated his name.
    I popped my head up and looked at her. “That’s what I said.”
    “Maybe it would be a good idea to practice saying his name. You know, in case you forget.”
    “Nice, Sarah.”
    “I’m just saying. Everyone needs a smart-ass sarcastic friend in their lives and I’m so very happy to be of service to you in your time of need.”
    “Yeah, yeah. You’re always just saying.” I pushed my plate away, silently repeating his name over and over in my head.
    “Come on.” Sarah stood and dropped money on the table. “We have appointments. Manis and pedis.”
    “Girls, this time tomorrow we’ll be baking on the soft, warm sands of Jamaica.”

Chapter Eight
    W e arrived at the resort in Montego Bay just before noon and were on the beach, drinks in hand, an hour later.
    “This”—Melody