We're Just Friends: Short Story Prequel to Pam of Babylon #8 Read Online Free

sound like Pam said the money you made was a gift. Just that it was a lot of money for a young woman.
    “And as far as the baby goes, she’s resigned that her relationship with Brent won’t be like one she’d have with a child born in a normal relationship.” Sandra jumped up from the chair, surprising Jason so that he squeaked.
    “That’s just awful,” she yelled, her voice echoing up and down the neighboring yards. “What difference does it make what my relationship with Brent’s father was?” Jason looked around to see if anyone was observing them, hunching over slightly.
    “I’m sorry I upset you,” he said, ready to say it was a lie if she’d just sit back down and calm down. “Please don’t get so upset.”
    She was marching back and forth, and even in her distress, she was beautiful, her black hair flying from her face, her dark eyes flashing. “I don’t think you understand. I lost a baby. Jack’s baby. Did you know that?” Jason was appalled, but he tried to keep his expression neutral. What would it have been like for Pam if the child had lived? Her husband’s baby. It made him a little sick thinking about it, watching her move back and forth, her long legs making the trip in few steps, the white fabric of her sweat pants swirling around her body. She was babbling about it, about losing the baby and how Pam was relieved, gesturing with her arms as she spoke, and Jason couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up and grabbed her, wanting to hold her as he would his daughter, to calm her down, anything to get her to stop.
    Sandra misinterpreted the gesture, and fell against him, rubbing her hips against his and kissing him on the lips. There was a second of clarity where Jason knew that if he didn’t stop right that minute, the relationship he was building with Pam would be destroyed. But loyalty to Pam took second place to comforting Sandra, her slender body pressing against his. He remembered her round derrière in the thong bathing suit bottom that had so offended Pam, and common sense gone, he reached down and put his hands over her ass. Noise from the kitchen announced the nanny’s presence and they flew apart.
    “Miss Benson,” Valarie called. “Little Brent is ready for bed.”
    “I’ll be back in about half an hour,” Sandra said, flushed, her lips swollen. “Do you want to wait?”
    “What do you think?” he answered, turning to sit back down, his prominent erection embarrassing him. He wouldn’t need Viagra tonight if this was going where he thought it was going. He looked at his watch; it was almost seven. If he left right then, he probably wouldn’t get back to Philadelphia until after ten; Sunday night traffic.
    He could go back to Babylon. He should go to Pam’s, say he had a change of heart and wanted to spend the night. But the sad fact was he didn’t want to. He was bored with Pam. They hadn’t had sex in months. Their relationship was in a rut, an inconvenient rut. If they could just accept the fact that they were antiquing buddies and little else, it would be great. You’re an ass, Bridges. Pam’s a great lady, and you want to lay blame on her because you have a hard on for a girl younger than your own children.
    Needing to go to the bathroom, he stood up, adjusting his crotch in case the nanny was still there. The downstairs was empty though, with a powder room off the front hallway. A mirror oddly placed on the wall behind the toilet gave him a view of his face as he stood to pee. He laughed out loud, just the comic relief he needed. He looked like hell, sickly pale under his tan, hair awry. The next time he went out on the boat he’d slather on sun block. The dark tan, white hair and his teeth made him look like a caricature; his kids had talked him into getting his teeth whitened after Emily had died. Thinking he looked ridiculous, he decided he was going to have a cigarette to try to yellow his teeth up again. “They look like fangs,” he said to his