Chapter Nine
I don’t tell her everything. Though it doesn’t have to do with being a lady. I’m pretty sure I gave up any rights to the term when I sold my virginity to a room full of cigar-smoking, brandy-drinking men.
But I tell her enough to hear her opinion on the house auction.
“I think he’s sincere,” she decides. “He had a crisis of conscience when he f****d you, and now he’s trying to make it up to you by giving you what you lost.”
“My virginity?”
She giggles. “Would you want that back?”
“God no. Totally useless. The only thing that ever got me was a million dollars.”
Halfway through the coconut rum, both of us find that hilarious. We drink the rest of it over a pepperoni pizza while she tells me about Justin’s fall from grace. He was Tanglewood’s golden boy. The son of a state
