Shame on You
Author:Tara Sivec

“Where’s Kennedy? Is she done washing meat off herself yet? Quit blocking the hallway. I need her help,” Dad complains.

“Kennedy and Griffin are in there…talking. They need to talk. You know, just talk. About…things,” Lorelei explains to my father.

Great. Miss Powerhouse Attorney can’t even form a coherent thought right now.

Bobby makes a gagging noise out in the hallway and if I were fully clothed right now I would go out there and kick his ass.

“Goddammit,” Bobby moans, followed immediately by the sound of a smack, which I’m assuming is from my father’s hand connecting with the back of Bobby’s head.

“Griffin Crawford, you better be wearing protection while you talk to my daughter. Kennedy, we’re out of dip and Steve Henderson just puked in the shrubs. Get dressed and come help,” my dad yells before he stomps back down the steps.

“Come on, Bobby, let’s get you some fresh air,” Lorelei states as I hear her dragging him down the stairs.

When the front door slams shut a few seconds later, Griffin laughs and I finally glance up at him to give him a dirty look.

“This isn’t funny,” I hiss at him.

“It’s pretty funny,” he chuckles. “Can we cancel the bet and just tell everyone we’re dating?”

Is he out of his mind? One orgasm does NOT equal dating. And the bet was HIS idea. I am seeing this shit through to the bitter end. I don’t date. Especially not someone who throws out a line about wanting me for eighteen years in the middle of a make-out session. I don’t want to date him, I don’t want to fall in love with him, and I don’t want him professing his stupid crush. I don’t need this complication in my life. Thank you for the wonderful orgasm, but I’m done. Seacrest, out!

“We are NOT dating. And this bet isn’t over until I win,” I growl at him as I shoulder past him and out the door, my bare feet smacking angrily on the floor as I stomp across the hall to the spare bedroom and the extra clothes I keep there for emergencies.

“You should just concede now, Kennedy. You’re never going to win!” Griffin yells to me as I walk into the bedroom and slam the door behind me.

GD cocky man and his mind-blowing orgasms.


Pour me a mother. I mean, pour me another,” I slur as I hold my wine glass out to Lorelei and watch in fascination as the golden liquid splashes into my glass.

“It’s so pretty,” I whisper, bringing the glass to my mouth and taking a big sip.

It’s Monday night, two days after the bathroom debacle. I spent the last two days looking up any and all information I could find on McFadden. Luckily, Alex decided to keep the girls for a few days so I’ve had the house all to myself. I spent every waking moment pouring over every single thing I could find on him from his elementary school grade cards to his most recent STD test. He sucked at math, but at least he doesn’t have VD. I’ve been to every hangout he’s ever been seen at and talked to every contact I have on the street and no one has seen him. I’m losing my touch. Why the hell is it suddenly so hard to find this tool? He’s popped up where I’ve been twice and my informants have spotted him all over the place, but now, nothing. No one has seen or heard from him in two days. I am totally off my game and there is only one person to blame for that.

“Okay, so tell us again, in detail,” Paige demands as she grabs the bottle of wine from Lorelei and tops off her own glass.

After not hearing from me for two days, the girls staged an intervention and showed up at my house this evening with enough wine to stock two shelves in my fridge. I’m not a wine drinker; I prefer beer. But since they were the ones buying, I couldn’t be picky.

Why didn’t anyone tell me wine is so delicious?

Tucking my feet under me on the couch, I feel myself start to sway back and forth and some of the wine from my glass sloshes onto my jeans.

“He has magical fingers, did I mention that part already?” I ask the girls.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned his magic digits several times. Get to the good part, for God’s sake. Tell me you saw his penis,” Paige demands.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Lorelei states firmly as she takes a sip of bottled water. Lorelei has a one-drink minimum. I’ve never seen her drunk. I think it’s physically impossible for her to get drunk.

“She most certainly DOES have to answer that. I haven’t seen a penis in months. I need to live vicariously through her,” Paige argues.

“I did not have sexual relations with that man,” I say in my best Bill Clinton voice. “I also did not get to see the peen.”

Paige boos and hisses at my announcement and Lorelei rolls her eyes.

“Okay, so there’s been a little bit of a setback with winning this bet. He’s obviously trying to distract you with sex. We need to come up with a new plan of attack.”

I blink a few times to get Lorelei’s face into focus and see her sitting there tapping her finger against her lips while she thinks.

What if she’s right? What if all of this was just a ruse to sidetrack me so he could take down McFadden? The kisses, the proclamation, the orgasm…it was all part of his evil master plan. I’ve been so flustered and distracted that I’m not thinking clearly and can’t find a guy who should be easier to track down than this. It should have never taken me this long to catch a bail jumper.


I jump up from the couch and throw my arms up in the air, forgetting the full glass of wine I still have in my hand as it spills all over the floor and coffee table and splashes on Paige’s shoes.

“NOT MY JIMMY CHOOS!!!!” Paige screams.

Reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table, I stick it right in front of her face. “Here, drink this and don’t think about the shoes.”

Paige sniffles and takes a sip of wine from her glass and then tips back the wine bottle and starts chugging.

“Oh my God, you do NOT chug a one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar bottle of Domaine Leflaive Chardonnay!” Lorelei shouts as she yanks the bottle away from Paige’s lips.