“Lila was in her underwear?” Elizabeth asked, confused. She fiddled with one of her barrettes.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it,” Winston said. “She actually asked this one to marry her!”
Elizabeth turned to Bruce, the tears overflowing down her cheeks. “Is that true?” she asked.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to get all clingy now that we’ve had lots of mind-blowing sex,” Bruce said in a warning tone. Not cool, bro
“Marshall the fifth?” Jessica said into the phone, trying to put on her most sultry voice. “I mean, Stan? It’s me, Elizabeth Wakefield.”
“Elizabeth?” he asked slowly, as if he were trying to place where he remembered her from.
“Yes, Elizabeth,” Jessica said, annoyed, before she remembered that Elizabeth would never take such a tone with anyone, let alone an old man. She cleared her throat and started over, more sweetly this time. “I mean, yes, it’s me, Elizabeth.”
“I don’t—”
“Threesome. Blonde twins. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean,” Jessica fired off rapidly. “Crying after every orgasm.” Elizabeth’s Great Idea
Lila leaned against her lime green BMW, examining her perfectly polished nails. She sighed loudly. She had been waiting in the parking lot of the Patman Canning factory since sunrise, getting up extra early to make a special effort on her appearance and to have Lucinda change Marshall.
I wonder when he’s going to bother to show up, Lila mused, reaching into her authentic Prada purse for her sunglasses and slipping them on. It looks like the underlings are showing up for work on the — ugh — assembly line. She shuddered as beat-up Hondas and Fords pulled into the parking lot, carrying their owners to another grueling day of work.
After what seemed like hours, they were followed by a vintage black Porsche, squealing into the parking lot as it took the turn a little too fast. Lila straightened up and pulled down the neckline of her minidress so it showed off an ample amount of cleavage. If there was one thing Bruce couldn’t resist, it was a nice set of tits, Lila remembered. They look like two bald toddlers butting heads with each other, she thought, looking down at her breasts. Perfect! Nice rack
Todd raised an eyebrow. “Bruce is coming to pick you up?”
Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m working at Patman Canning now,” she said. “And I’m sleeping with him.”
“You’re doing what?” Todd exclaimed, a look of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced with a look of anger.
“I’m sleeping with him,” Elizabeth said. “You know, fucking.”
“But — but I thought you hated sex,” Todd sputtered. “You cried after every orgasm.” A loving act between two consenting adults
Bruce looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Elizabeth had been crying for the last 20 minutes. Awkward, he thought. I know I’m good, but she needs to calm the fuck down.
He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, trying to drown out the image of Elizabeth sobbing. He hoped the servants hadn’t heard her crying — it was perfectly fine that they had heard the moans of passion he had drawn from Elizabeth’s lips, but he had a reputation to uphold. And a crying bitch did nothing for his repuation.
“Do you do this every time?” he asked in a bored tone, staring up at the ceiling.
Elizabeth sniffled. “Y- yes,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“Yeah, not interested,” Bruce said coolly, sitting up and covering his enormous package with the bedsheet. “I just want to know if I can expect the same thing next time.” Enormous. Riiiiiiiiiiiight.
“Well then,” Bruce said, coming up behind Elizabeth and placing his hands on her waist, “looks like it’s just you and me.”
Elizabeth nodded, her body stiffening at Bruce’s touch. “Uh, Bruce, I hate to ruin the moment and everything, but is that — is that a can of peaches in your pocket, or—”
“No,” he said, his voice low with desire. “No, it’s not a can of peaches.”
Tears began to roll down Elizabeth’s cheeks as her body was racked with uncontrollable sobs. Stripper fight!
“Winston!” Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing over to her old friend and giving him a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”
Winston pried himself out of Elizabeth’s grip and continued to mix powdered creamer into his coffee. It’s too early for this shit, he thought. And what the fuck is she wearing? A powder blue linen suit? Bruce doesn’t even wear suits to work!
“Uh, hey, Elizabeth,” he mumbled, stirring the coffee. “Guess we’re co-workers now, huh?”
“I know!” Elizabeth squealed. “It’s so exciting! I’m just so happy to be working with my best friends!” OMG besties!!
As the man got into the car, Enid again looked at his face, this time, recognition dawning on her. “Oh, I know you!” she said, giggling.
The man smiled at Enid as he reached behind her seat and pulled out a paper cup and a bottle of wine. He poured the wine into the paper cup and added a small pill. “The wine is a 1945 Merlot. The date rape drug is a 1995 roofie,” he said, handing her the cup. “It was an excellent year.”
Enid accepted the cup and pounded back the wine. “You’re Bruce Patman,” she said, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.
“Something like that,” he said, turning the key in the ignition as Enid slipped into darkness. Crackies everywhere
“That’s impossible!” Elizabeth cried, throwing off her Snuggie. It slid to the floor and landed in a sleeved heap. “Bruce is my new BFF. I mean, sure, he may get a little handsy every now and then, but he’s certainly not a rapist!”
“Date rapist,” Jessica said, correcting her twin for once. “He at least has the decency to get a girl good and drunk or otherwise impaired beforehand.”
“Police have also declined to speak further about the case,” Amy continued. “They have, however, referred all questions about the Sweet Valley date rapist to a ragtag bunch of 16-year-olds with an uncanny ability to solve crimes and a shocking lack of parental supervision.”
Elizabeth shook her head angrily as Amy concluded her report.
“For Sweet Valley Action News, I’m Amy Sutton. Token Sweet Valley High Character We Don’t Give a Shit About But Who Inexplicably Became a News Anchor, back to you.”
“Thanks, Amy,” Jeffrey French said as the camera cut back to him. “Coming up: A look at your local forecast, which as we all know will be sunny and perfect, but first, our nightly check of the Wakefield twins’ bowel movements and a special report on why Elizabeth doesn’t love me anymore.” We’ll never know why
The sun burned into Todd’s pasty, flabby skin. Through his sunglasses, he could discreetly check out Ken’s perfectly sculpted abs as the two of them lounged on their towels.
It’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, Todd repeated to himself over and over. Everything I’m doing — spying on her through her windows at night, getting in shape so I can impress her by joining a recreational basketball league, helping Ken get over the pain of losing Olivia sometime in the late 1990s — everything I’m doing is to win back Elizabeth.
But it was getting more and more difficult to convince himself, especially when Ken was lying just inches away from him in nothing but a tiny red bathing suit. Hotness