A broken marriage.
A new job.
She works as a Personal Assistant on the ForNoah Youtube channel.
Noah is on the autistic spectrum and she fixes things for him.
He's a shipwright and creates beautiful works of art.
She's a woman starting over who meet...
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Ding.
I have the SLR camera ready to take that sexy money shot of the carrot cake coming out of the oven, pure food porn. Carly opens the oven up with mitts, and the shot is one of those Martha Stewart moments. The Martha Stewart fresh out of prison version after she got cool and started smoking weed with Snoop Dog.
"Do we write happy twenty-ninth birthday on it?"
"No, Zoey told me, he's not a big fan of his birthday. I think just let the cake rest, and maybe make it look nice," I answered.
We wait ten minutes for the naked cake to cool before she pops it out of the mold. Then she gives that second money shot of white frosting smothered over the carrot cake. Carly smiles at the camera with one of those I know how to work it, it looks damn good looks. I giggle behind the camera and ruin the shot.
"Cut the cake already and come out to the porch. You have got to see this," Eve yells.
We cut the cake up with an extra piece for Noah. I bring the food out to the table by the end of the deck with my notebook. Two men run together shirtless, both keeping pace with each other. They run past us and speed up.
Thick ropes of muscles work hard to drive the two big men. Jo-Lee's fork filled with the prettiest carrot cake is paused mid-air as she watches the men run past her. Jo-Lee has that hungry wolf look in her eyes.
"You did not tell me that was Noah," Jo-Lee says, waving her fork.
"She didn't tell me either," Carly says and gives me a quick dirty look.
"Does he do this all the time?" Eve asks me.
"8 a.m. every day like clockwork," I reply.
All forks hang in the air, the cake uneaten. The two men race past us again—one man in workout shorts and brown chest exposed like a platter. The platter is filled with big upper body muscles and a frame made for lifting a bus or thick sexy bitches. Noah has on a T-shirt and workout clothes. He runs by with his long hair out behind him like a commercial for shampoo. Just as thick and wrestling big as ever. The two men run together and push the pace, speeding up with each lap.
Jo-Lee licks her lips. "Ah, when was the last time you...?"
"Last week, but if I could get that brother's number, maybe later today," Eve replies.
"Four weeks ago, and if I could get both numbers, I'd be fine," Carly replies.
"Few months ago," Jo-Lee pipes in. "I'd take both at the same time." The thirst level rises to ten. They all look at me.
"What?" I stammer at the wordless prompt of all my friends' eyes on me.
"When was the last time you had sex?" Jo-Lee prods.
Pause...
I knew what she was asking, but the reply wasn't one I wanted to give.
