3: In Which She is a Bronte Girl
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After a gruelling day at the paper, all I needed was a bottle of Bacardi and Prince inside me.
Except that he had a ‘hot date’ that evening.
“Guy or girl?” I asked over the phone, walking into our empty apartment.
“Uh…both,” he replied quickly, making me laugh. He cleared his throat. “Any plans for tonight? Like Spanish porn stars?”
I sighed. “Alas, no. I shall go to bed early after a few solitary drinks.”
“What about that book club shit Erin was talking about?”
“Spare me.” I yawned. “I had no intention of going.” I thought about Stephen and shivered. Flopping onto my unmade bed, I kicked off my pumps. “I’m gonna hang up now. Your dates are probably getting pissed.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. But listen, you should go. At least the Spanish porn stars there will be intellectual.”
I giggled. “You’re retarded.” But I would go.
“And you love me. Now later. Gotta go.”
I took a quick shower after the call and threw on a frilly paisley blouse and black skinnies. Erin had clearly been over today, judging by the brand-new copy of Jane Eyre placed on my vanity table.
Nell – May you meet your Mr. Rochester tonight. Kisses, Erin
I had to laugh. Erin couldn’t possibly be serious. Still chuckling to myself, I shoved the book into my handbag. Erin certainly knew how to tickle my funny bone.
*
I was late. That much was evident from the number of cars already in the library parking lot. And it was only six-thirty.
Slamming my Fiat shut, I crept through the front door of the library, pushing it open with my elbow. The librarian’s desk was empty. I sighed with relief that I wouldn’t have to see Miss The-Library-is-Another-Planet Cindy. Erin had mentioned that the new reading centre was downstairs. Clearly, after a decade, our library had been upgraded.
“Janelle?” someone called from the stairwell.
“Yeah?”
“Hi! I’m Fiona.”
YOU ARE READING
The Book Club (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]
Ficção Geral[Edited Version] "We only read erotica," Fiona said with a straight face. "Come again?" I asked, clutching my copy of Jane Eyre to my chest. I suddenly felt like a girl who'd come to a fancy-dress party dressed as herself. "Oh, come on, Janelle," Fi...