Free Honest Betrayal by Dara Girard

doing this for feminism,” Brenna said. “I’m doing it to get my mother out of my life. At least temporarily.”
    “There are other ways to do that,” Pauline said.
    Brenna rested her elbows on the table intrigued. “How?”
    “Just tell her truthfully to leave you alone.” The two women stared at Pauline amazed. She blushed. “Okay, I know that isn’t completely realistic but it’s better than being deceitful.”
    “Be deceitful,” Tima said. “It might be fun.”
    Pauline shook her head. “You haven’t met this guy. He’s egotistical, demanding, annoying—”
    Tima shrugged. “This is a ploy not a proposal.”
    Brenna nodded. “Exactly. Now if I could only get my brother to take a risk.”
    “Get a fake date?”
    “No, try something unlike him.”
    “What’s wrong with him?”
    “He’s seeing his wife,” Brenna said annoyed.
    “Home wrecker,” Pauline teased.
    “They’re supposed to be getting a divorce.”
    Tima shrugged. “They’re trying to make the marriage work.”
    “They’re trying to save a sinking ship.”
    Pauline nodded. “Brenna’s right. I’ve met Fiona and her brother could do better.”
    Brenna flashed Tima a sly grin. “Actually, I’d love to pair you two.”
    Tima shook her head. “No way. I like my men fully grown.”
    “He’s twenty-five.”
    “So? Men mature slowly. They don’t even start ripening until they reach their mid-thirties.”
    “But you can teach younger men things,” Pauline said.
“Things they’ll turn around and use on younger women. Forget it.”
    Brenna looked pensive. “If he were older would you be interested?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “You’re my friend, so I’m not going to tell you.”
    “Fair enough.” Brenna sighed defeated. Stephen wasn’t interested in Tima or she in him. Perhaps her instincts were wrong.
    ***
    Stephen smiled to himself thinking of his mother’s phone call as he drove home. He wasn’t sure what Brenna was up to, but it seemed she’d managed to snag a man. Good for her.  He wiped his brow, suddenly feeling the weight of his exhaustion. His last job had finished early and he’d helped a colleague move a large poster bedroom set up two flights of stairs. All he wanted to do was go home and shower. Then he’d go visit the Alandale Theater and see how the production was coming. He parked his truck and jumped out then caught a glimpse of the local stray—a gray and brown cat. He opened his lunch bag and tossed it some leftover chicken. The cat snatched it and ran off.
    “Hey sexy,” a female voice said.
    He spun around and smiled at Fiona. “Hey babe. Stay away I’m all sweaty. Let me change my shirt.” He turned and grabbed an extra one he had in his truck then pulled it on.
    “I came to have a little snack with you. I packed some food.” Fiona lifted a bag.
    “Good. Why don’t we eat it here? It’s a nice day.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “In the truck?”
    “It’s clean. Come on.” He grinned. “We’ve done a lot more than eat back here.”
    “All right.”
    Stephen lifted Fiona onto the flatbed then climbed in behind her. He watched her spread out the food, her long hair falling around her slender shoulders that always seemed to cower from the weight of the world. He felt fiercely protective of her, determined she would always feel safe with him. He grabbed a sandwich.  “What is this?”
    “Turkey.”
    He looked at the other sandwich. “What’s that?”
    “Turkey.”
    He didn’t like turkey; she always forgot that. He took a bite anyway, appreciating the effort.  “Hmm, delicious.”
    She smiled.
    Her smile erased the bland, rubbery taste of turkey in his mouth. Stephen leaned back against the cab feeling good. Fiona was like his truck—comfortable and reliable. She didn’t want anything more from him. He knew that in a few months he’d probably ask her to move back in with him. Getting a divorce would be a mistake. He couldn’t do better than Fiona. Her deep brown