Free The Wife of Reilly by Jennifer Coburn Page B

Matt asked.
    “I don’t, but I do know this. The answer is going to be yes,” I whispered.
    “Malone, you are a very bad girl.”
    That is a definite understatement , I thought, as my sweatpants dropped to the floor.

Chapter 7
    After their initial shock at Monday’s lunch, Jennifer, Sophie and even Chad agreed that while they didn’t necessarily understand my need to find Reilly a new wife, they’d at least help me. Wednesday evening after work, we met at Bar 89 for our mission. We would draft an advertisement for Reilly’s new wife, then place it in the personals section of the Village Voice. But first, we’d have to hunt for a clear table. I couldn’t believe how busy this place was. The food is good, but frankly, I just think people like the glass bathroom stalls that fog up for privacy when the doors close. But Bar 89 was noisy and close to all of us, so it soon became our Manhattan version of Cheers, where no one knows your name.
    After ordering our drinks, Jennifer took charge. “Okay, we’ve got forty words to reel in the babes. First, let’s brainstorm some descriptive words about Reilly, then weave it into copy. Plan?”
    Chad rolled his eyes. “Why am I here?”
    Jennifer had already hit her limit with Chad. “Why are you here? If you’re gonna be negative about this then just getthefuckup and go.” I loved how Jennifer could make “get the fuck up” into one word. “Wanna know why you’re really here, Chad?”
    “Why don’t we turn our attention to the task at hand?” suggested Sophie. “If we want to craft an effective message for Reilly’s advertisement, it will probably take some time.”
    “No, I’d like to hear why I’m really here,” Chad said, half teasing, half annoyed. Jennifer’s response would decide which way Chad’s mood went.
    “You guys,” I begged.
    “No, I must hear this,” Chad insisted. “Just think, without Yoda over here, I may never uncover the secrets of my universe.”
    No one could help smiling at the thought of the Jedi Master as a tall black woman dressed in a yellow petticoat from Oklahoma!
    “You couldn’t stand to be left out of the loop on this,” Jennifer said. “It would kill you to have this juicy story going on without you involved. You’re a scandal addict.”
    Chad interrupted. “This is such a tired old stereotype —”
    “Blah, blah, blah,” Jennifer cut him off. “You are a gossip hound and you would die before you let all this happen without you, so here’s the deal. You’re in or you’re out, got it?”
    “Who appointed you mistress of ceremonies?” Chad asked. “Thank you,” he said to our waiter, who was taking his time placing our drinks on the table. He had that distinctly trying-not-to-look-curious look, which always reveals that a person would love to know what was going on. “I think Prudence needs to decide whether she’s ready to vote me off the island just because I’m not going to rubber stamp everything you come up with. Honey, I’m in, don’t get me wrong,” he said to me. “I can be very useful to you, make no mistake about it, but I’ve gotta be me, love. You want Chad, take the whole package.”
    “So, Chad, I’m curious now,” Sophie began. “Why is it that you want to be involved in Prudence’s plan that you are so morally outraged by? Is Jennifer right?”
    Chad sighed, exasperated. “Prudence, honey. I adore you, you know that. I want to help you, yes. But alas, my friend Jennifer knows me too well. I can’t get enough of this kind of shit.”
    “He watches soaps too,” Jennifer laughed.
    “Telenovelas,” Chad shooed her away. “They help with my Spanish.”
    Jennifer decided that since she was the advertising professional, she should oversee the ad writing. She was as serious about her job as if there was a possible Cleo award in this for her. “Words that remind us of Reilly. Go,” she said urgently.
    I began. “Reilly is successful. He’s very loyal to those he loves. He’s