by Josie Brown
Dedication
Begin the story
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Acknowledgements
About Coliloquy
About the Author
Copyright
Totlandia: The Onesies, Book 2 (Winter)
by Josie Brown
Bought by Maraya21
kickass.to / 1337x.org / h33t.to / thepiratebay.se
Palo Alto | San Francisco
Dedication
For Martin, Austin and Anna
Chapter 1
Friday, 2 November
9:19 a.m.
Brady Pierce wasn’t a religious man per se, but he did believe in a Greater Being. In fact, sixteen years ago, at the very enthusiastic suggestion of his then boss and mentor, Steve Jobs, he reluctantly took his first sabbatical from Apple to study at a Buddhist monastery. There he partook in a simple daily routine of meditation, yoga, and visualizations. By Day Eighteen, the chatter in his brain hadn’t exactly dissipated in between all the mind-numbing ommmm’ing, but at least it had moved beyond What the hell am I doing here? to What should I be doing with my life…?
By the sixtieth and final day of his sabbatical, he’d come to appreciate Buddhism’s Four Noble Truths (dissatisfaction, the origin of that dissatisfaction, its cessation, and the path leading to its cessation). In the years since, as he burnished his rep at Apple and then moved on to create his own successful start-up, AStealAtThisPrice.com, his daily yoga regimen reinforced his commitment to Buddhism’s Four Immeasurables (loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity).
On the numerous occasions in which he shared this anecdote with reporters assigned the task of writing a feature profile on him, he seemed reluctant to do so. Truth be told, Brady knew that Western fascination with Eastern mysticism played to his favor in one very important arena—publicity—and at his behest, his assistants scheduled these interviews right after his morning meditation and yoga, when he was in a Zen place but his eyes shone with laser-sharp intent. The reporters forgave the fact he didn’t want to shake hands (he was still sweaty) but appreciated the gentle way in which he’d reach out for their forearm as he divulged to them the secrets of his success.
One thing he never spoke of was his very first and only recurring visualization. Maybe he’d always kept it to himself because it had freaked him out when he realized it had somehow come true—partially, anyway. In it, a happy baby—a tow-headed baby boy, just like his one-year-old son, Oliver—floated in the air, surrounded by three women: a brunette, a blonde, and a redhead. The only woman he felt he could place with certainty was the blonde, Oliver’s mother, Jade. Whereas the visages of the other two women stayed fuzzy whenever the vision appeared, Jade’s face was clearly there, even after the annulment of their marriage when Oliver was six months old.
Having her in Oliver’s life—at least at this stage—was important for one reason alone: it allowed Oliver to attend the meet-ups at San Francisco’s exclusive invitation-only Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club. There, the children and wives of other captains-of-industry met, developed lifelong friendships, and referred each other to the admissions boards of the best schools in the city, and even to the best universities in the country, where they and their spouses were alumnae.
The good news: thus far his naïve, albeit tempestuous, ex hadn’t done anything to screw up Oliver’s chances to stay in the club through the first three-month probationary period, including divulging the fact that she and Brady were no longer married.
The bad news: at this very moment, one of the six probationers for the four slots available was getting bumped.
This was probably why the recurring visualization was taking place now…
Until the damn doorbell rang.
Whoever was leaning on the buzzer wasn’t giving up, either.
Brady sighed. To shift out of his meditative state, he rose off his yoga mat, stretching tall and wide, taking his sweet time reaching the front door. Jade had a key, so he knew it wasn’t her. Besides, she wasn’t expected back home with Oliver until after noon—
Unless she had been cut, he thought. If so, she might be too upset to find her key…
He paused a moment and took a deep breath before looking out the peephole.
Shit. Worse than Jade. It was Madame Ovary, his fuck buddy and PHM&T club member.
Her marriage and her two young children had made it easy for him to keep their sexcursions discreet and limited, which was fine by him. In fact, he’d love it if she’d break off their relationship, but instead she’d gotten more clingy with each passing week, now that she’d helped Oliver and Jade get accepted into PHM&T.
When he’d suggested they cool their relationship, she made certain he knew that doing so would ensure Jade and Oliver’s exile from the club.
Quickly, he opened the door and pulled her inside before slamming it shut again.
As soon as he could pry her off his lips, he hissed, “Why are you here? Isn’t Bettina dumping one of the probies now?” He was dying to know if it had been Jade.
As if reading his mind, Madame Ovary smiled slyly. “Quit worrying. The others had just as much dirt, if not more, as your darling Jade.”
Ha! If only she knew.
Jade had been a pole dancer. Not only that, Jade had auditioned for a porn flick. Thank goodness she hadn’t gotten that gig, but it had been an additional straw on the already breaking back of their relationship.
What would have been the biggest sin (at least, as far as the club was concerned) was that Brady and Jade weren’t married any more. Brady had offered to pay Jade to attend the PHM&T club meetings with Oliver. She’d turned down the money, but had agreed to his little deception in the hope of getting back into his life.
For the past three months, Brady had been able to keep this from Madame Ovary. Oliver’s future depended on getting—and staying—in the club. If she had knowledge of it, she’d make their lives miserable.
Well, his anyway. At first, the sex had been fun, but now it was an obligation that occurred only at her command.
Having done his yoga workout in a loose set of drawstring pants made it easy for Madame Ovary to get to what she came for. She stripped his pants to his ankles, noting he was at half-staff, dropped to her knees, and went to work.
He could play this one of two ways: either let her have her way and get it over with quickly, or hold out and pray that she gave up. Maybe that would have her rethink the time and effort she was putting into their now very much one-way relationship.
At least, that was his hope when he stared down at her bobbing head and muttered, “So who got ousted instead?”
“Guess” was what he could make out, sort of.
“Jillian?” He hoped not. She was a sweet woman with twin girls.
“Naw…”
“Lorna?” She was the sister-in-law of Bettina Connaught Cross, PHM&T’s founder and fearless leader, so he doubted it. Despite the fact she also had a son and the Onesies group was now boy-heavy, he liked her. Besides, she was nice to Jade, unlike some of the legacy mothers whose slots were already guaranteed.
“Nonnn…” Either Madame Ovary was working hard at getting him to come, or she was toying with him.
“Um…Ally?” Her one-year-old daughter, Zoe,
was one of the most animated kids in the group.
“Nope.” She looked up at him just as he smiled with relief. Her own grin melted with suspicion. “What the hell are you grinning about? Do you have a crush on her or something?”
“A…crush? Of course not!” Quickly he tried to kill his smile.
He had more than a crush. He was in love with Ally Thornton.
It was yet another secret he had to hide from the woman who held his cock between her teeth.
“So that we speed this along, I’ll save you the time of guessing. It was Chakra, that fucking airy-fairy green goddess.” She didn’t even bother to look up, but worked him vigorously with her hand as she added, “I think most of us are relieved, since she was such a smug pain-in-the-ass know-it-all.”
“Hey, I hear ya,” he gasped.
“Good boy,” she cooed. “You’re almost there!” Her lips replaced her hand as she brought him to orgasm.
As he looked down, it suddenly dawned on him that her hair was the same shade of red as the woman in his visualization.
Not a good sign.
Neither was the sound of a fleet of cars stopping in front of the house. Almost like a S.W.A.T. team—
But it was worse than the police. From the window Brady could see that it was Jade, back with Oliver. With her was an entourage of mothers and toddlers. The jubilant smiles on their faces faded when they noticed Madame Ovary’s car out front.
His orgasmic groan was concurrent with his command, “Get up! Jade is home with the rest of the Probationary Onesies.”
For the first time in their relationship, Madame Ovary actually did what she was told.
***
Jade opened the front door cautiously. Her eyes scanned beyond the foyer toward the sunken living room. She could hear Brady conversing with someone, but she couldn’t tell which room his voice was coming from. The house was so big and its walls were so high that sound echoed off the marble floors in the most disconcerting way.
She motioned for the other mothers—Ally, Lorna, and Jillian—to follow her in. The others nodded silently. They, too, knew it wasn’t a good sign that the car out front was owned by one of the members of the PHM&T’s T☺p M☺ms Applicati☺n C☺mmittee. Had the wrong proby been let go? And if so, was the committee member’s appearance here an indication she was no longer welcome?
The women silently made their way toward Brady’s voice, which they could now tell was coming from the kitchen.
He was standing behind the kitchen island, serving tea to Kimberley Savitch. The lead mom in the Foursies group was sitting on one of the bar stools that surrounded the island. The two of them looked up, as if surprised to see Jade and Oliver, as well as everyone else.
“Ah! Here’s Jade and our little man now,” exclaimed Brady. As Jade rushed over to him, he kissed her on the forehead and took his squealing son into his arms. “Kimberley was just telling me the sad news—that Chakra is no longer among the living.”
“Brady, don’t be so cruel,” Jade said, as she looked shyly at Kimberley. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she blurted out, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Wrong…you? Heavens, no!” Kimberley’s long wavy russet locks swayed as she laughed. “I’m here to drop off some additional pages to your manual, specifically detailing our Thanksgiving cookbook fundraiser. Seeing you here in a group saves me time tracking you down individually to hand off these new pages to you. Bettina wanted me to go over them with you, so there would be no question as to the importance of this event in your formal acceptance to the club, especially now that we’ve got one more Probationary Onesie to winnow from your group.” She scanned the faces around her. “In fact, over the next sixty days, each of you will be given a momentous task to complete which will count heavily toward your final score. Bettina looks forward to going over that with you on Monday.”
Lorna’s grimace seemed to say it all: That sadist. I’ll just bet she does.
Her frown didn’t deter Kimberley, who smiled directly at her. “I’ll run out to the car to get the sheets. Be right back.”
As she sauntered out of the kitchen, the other women glanced at each other. After hearing the front door close behind her, Lorna was the first to speak. “I don’t get it. After what they’re putting us through, now all of a sudden the committee is going out of its way to make sure we understand their crazy rules?”
Jillian smiled brightly. “Maybe we should be happy that they want to work harder to keep us.”
Ally shook her head. “Bettina had us in front of her just a half hour ago. Does anyone else find it odd that these weren’t just handed to us then?”
Jade glanced over at Brady. Why did he look so pale? She touched his forehead with her palm. “Are you alright?”
***
Brady could feel the color leaving his face. Close call, he thought. Too close.
He took Jade’s hand off his forehead and kissed it gently. “Who, me? Yeah, I’ll be fine. I was doing yoga when she knocked. I think I got up too fast. I need some water.” With Oliver still on his hip, he walked to the sink. He turned on the faucet, grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and held it under the water, not that much made it into the glass since Oliver was splashing most of it away.
He could just imagine Jade’s eyes burning into the back of his neck.
But no. When he turned around, she was busy passing around a big bowl of green seedless grapes to the other moms, who plucked the fruit for their toddlers.
Apparently, she didn’t suspect anything.
Involuntarily, he glanced over at Ally and found her staring at him. Her look was direct and penetrating. It didn’t pass judgment exactly, but the look of concern there still made him feel guilty.
He wondered if she suspected what was going on between him and Kimberley. Yet another reason to cool it with that horny redhead. Ally knew his true status with Jade—just as he knew Ally was still very much a working mom, and a single one at that, whose gay lawyer was her beard for all club-related intents and purposes. But he had never divulged to her his initial seduction of Madame Ovary as a means of giving Oliver a leg up against the one hundred and two other applicants.
He had always presumed the end justified the means. Now, seeing the look in her eyes, he hoped that was indeed the case.
“What the hell is Ally staring at?” Kimberley’s low murmur in his ear almost doused this hope.
Turning to her, he said in a voice loud enough for the rest of the women to hear, “I’m sure everyone can’t wait to hear about all the fun and games you and the rest of the application committee have cooked up for the holidays. So that you’ll have everyone’s undivided attention, why don’t I watch the kids in Oliver’s playroom while you ladies go over these new rules?”
With Oliver in one arm and the bowl of grapes in the other, he led the way.
***
The holidays are upon us! It is a precious time for giving thanks, giving selflessly of yourselves—
And, unfortunately, receiving infractions for any silly slip-ups!
So that there is no mistake as to the importance of the Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club’s Day-After-Thanksgiving gathering to your eventual inclusion in the club, here is what we undeniably and specifically expect from you:
YOU WILL:
- Provide a signature dish for the all-family (Yep! Hubbies are included!) potluck, to take place at the Flood Mansion, 2222 Broadway, Pacific Heights.
- Ensure, under oath, that your offering is an original recipe of your own creation.
- Provide the recipe, to be included in PHM&T’s Holiday Recipe book, our fundraiser for the Children’s Health Fund.
- Bring said dish, already prepared, to our gathering, in portions that feed at least eight.
- Sign up under one of these four categories: Appetizer, Entrée, Side Dish, and Dessert. Sign-ups are first come/first serve, with only eight slots per category.
YOU WILL NOT:
Bring a dish prepared from
a restaurant; or
Bring a dish prepared by anyone but YOU.
Great news! One of you WILL be hosting this event! More information to come…
Lorna stared down at the sheets, then up at Kimberley. “I don’t get it. This thing says the same thing, over and over. Sign up in one of the dish categories, then prepare a dish for eight and bring it to the event. What’s not to get?”
“Well, you must admit that we’ve already had some miscommunications with the new Probationary Onesies mothers. For example, there was the tracksuit incident at the Onesie Inaugural meet-up. For such a momentous occasion, one should have automatically presumed that more consideration be given to your child’s attire, wouldn’t you say?” She raised a brow knowingly at Lorna, who blushed at the memory of bringing her son, Dante, in an adorable Olympic tracksuit, only to discover that most of the other little boys were dressed in tuxedos. “Not to mention the fact that, from what I understand, you were all together when you made your tots’ homemade Halloween costumes,” Kimberley continued. “Lorna, Bettina was terribly disappointed that Dante’s costume actually ended up looking exactly like the one worn by Kelly Overton’s son, Wills.”
It was on the tip of Lorna’s tongue to say that Bettina lived to be disappointed—especially by her sister-in-law—but then she thought better of it.
Ally shook her head. “Nowhere in the rule book does it say that we can’t cooperate in the making of costumes.”
“It does now.” Kimberley pulled out additional pages from the folder she’d taken from her car. “Please substitute these new ‘Halloween Event’ pages for the older ones in your binders. We on the committee recognize that if things aren’t clearly spelled out, mistakes can be made. The number of infractions garnered by each of you over the past three months has made that painfully clear to us. Thank goodness for all of you that Chakra’s infractions were deemed even more egregious—especially that last one! That said, from now on, consider me your rule book facilitator. Should you have any questions at all—should anything arise as a “what if” in your subconscious—don’t hesitate to call me. And so those calls are few and far between, let’s go over these pages now…”
