The doorbell chimed, ejecting me from my deep, drunken sleep. My head nearly exploded with pain as I squinted into the streams of daylight seeping past the blinds. A small, soft foot pushed against my thigh, jerking me further out of my groggy state. I lifted the cover and noticed that a long, smooth leg was attached to the foot. And past the long pair of legs was a supple, naked ass with a blue ink dragonfly. The insect tattoo curled its tail as the woman under my quilt stretched and relaxed again on the mattress. A squeaky yawn came from the far corner of my massive bed, a sound that couldn't have been attached to the dragonfly woman unless she was seven feet tall. I lifted the blanket higher, and in the shadows of the bed linens, I discovered another woman curled up in a cozy sleep.

The doorbell echoed through the house again, stirring both of my drowsy sleep partners, but only for a few seconds before they both purred into a dream state again. I climbed out of bed. My feet landed squarely on a pair of silky panties. The trail of clothes and shoes led out the bedroom door to the hallway. A black leather mini skirt straddling the doorway was just about the only thing I remembered about the night before. I vaguely remembered the skirt shoved up above a pair of pink lace panties, which I didn't see anywhere in the room.

The pain in my head was compounded by the nausea in my gut. The room spun wildly as I grabbed my jeans off the floor. I pulled the phone from my pocket. It seemed my new friends and I had slept away most of the day.

I buttoned the fly on my jeans as I plodded down the hallway to the entry. Jack's tall silhouette filled the wavy glass on the front door. I pulled it open and headed into the kitchen before he'd even stepped inside.

"Do you mean you've been holed up right here in Malibu this whole fucking time? I've been calling and texting for days." Jack's loud voice ricocheted off the plaster walls and slammed right into my throbbing forehead.

I put my hand up to stop him from continuing. "You'll need to lower your voice about a hundred decibels unless you want to see my skull explode." I reached for the coffee pot and poured myself a cup of two day old coffee.

"Must have been one helluva night." Jack plucked something up off the stool in front of the kitchen island. It was the infamous pink panties.

"Guess I didn't just imagine those after all." I stuck the cup of coffee in the microwave.

"Is it safe to sit on this stool?" Jack asked.

"Unless you fall off of it, I think it's safe."

Jack settled on the stool and rested his forearms along the granite ledge. He was wearing that smug smile that sometimes made me want to throw my fist at him. "Well, Archer, you look like something my dog ate and puked back up."

"Thank you for lowering your voice, but one more rule. Don't talk about puking, otherwise you're going to find out what I had for dinner last night and something tells me it had to do with oysters." I pressed my arm against my stomach and closed my eyes until the spinning stopped.

"Nash, what the hell are you doing? It's been a month since you got fired. I thought you'd have your own equity firm up, running and steaming right past MG Enterprises already."

I pulled the coffee out and winced at the taste. "Shit, maybe this is even older than I thought." I dumped it into the sink. "I stupidly thought I could convince some of the big clients, people who I helped secure the equity they needed to start a successful business, to follow me or at least hand out some good recommendations. Turns out Morris Grant has a lot bigger hold on his clients than I realized."

"Fucking hell, so he got to them all before you could sweet talk them to your side?"

"Seems that way. Doesn't help that he let it be well known how I lost the deal with Rad Video. I think he sent out a 'lock up your daughters' kind of warning."

"Jeezus, you've got to start from scratch then."

I filled the coffee maker and pushed the extra strong brew button. "Or I could just, as you said, stay holed up here in my beach house, drinking and fucking until all the money runs out and my will to live goes with it."

"Fuck that. As your twisted old pop would say—stop feeling sorry for yourself. What happened to the crazy ass idea you had back at Fantasm the night you got canned? You were going to whip yourself into shape with some major self-denial."

"Is it all right if I use your shower?" an airy voice called from the hallway. The blonde with the tattoo was standing in the doorway holding my shirt in front of her naked body.

"Sure thing," I answered. Jack and I both watched as she turned around and walked away.

"Was that a dragonfly?" Jack asked.

"Yep."

He twirled back around on the stool. "Seems to me you are doing the exact opposite of your initial plan. Instead of self-denial, you are going full self-gratification. How many other women are hibernating in that big bed of yours?"

I shrugged. "Last I counted, there was one more. And that plan I had sounded fucking insane an hour after we left the strip club. I'll get my act together soon."

"Is that coffee I smell?" an unfamiliar voice popped up over the back of the living room sofa. A face with long dark lashes and curly brown hair popped up after it.

The woman peered at us. "Ooh, aren't you two a nice sight to see in the morning," she quipped before dropping back down. "Let me know when the coffee's done," she called.

Jack shot me a well-deserved judgmental scowl. "Apparently, you forgot how to count. Seriously, buddy, you're like a fucking runaway train. Put on the brakes before you careen off the tracks for good."

"Again with the stupid analogies."

"And you know I'm spot on with all of them. What about that dancer, Shay? She's still there. I was just in Fantasm a week ago. She twirled across stage and everyone went nuts."

I shook my head. "It was a crazy idea. Enough about my life, what have you been up to?" I poured myself some of the freshly brewed coffee. It slightly dulled the pain in my head. I pointed to the pot of coffee, but Jack shook his head.

"I'm dating someone," Jack announced suddenly. "It's only been three weeks, but I think I might have stumbled onto the real thing this time."

I nearly spit out my mouthful of coffee with a laugh. "Bullshit."

Footsteps carried our attention to the living room. The woman on the couch had strategically placed a pillow over her bare breasts and in front of her pussy. She surveyed the room as she headed toward the kitchen. "Has anyone seen my panties?"

Jack picked up the pair he had dropped on the floor on the toe of his shoe. He dangled them in the air. "Do these look familiar?"

She twirled her mouth as if she was trying to decide if they were hers. "I think I was wearing blue last night."

"Try the bedroom," I suggested. "And the coffee is ready."

"Thanks." She deftly moved the pillow from her pussy to her naked bottom as she turned to walk down the hall.

Jack chuckled. "I guess she's modest. Who is she?"

"No fucking clue."

"Christ, Nash, what the hell are you doing? You could be inviting some psycho into your place, like that character in Fatal Attraction, the crazy woman who cooked the rabbit."

"I don't have any pet rabbits." After the coffee, my stomach was churning more toward hunger than nausea. I pulled a loaf of bread out of the pantry.

"Anyhow, I was telling you about Rylie."

I stuck a slice in the toaster. "Who's Rylie?"

"The woman I'm dating. She's a tax accountant, and she is fucking amazing. I think I'm in love. You should try it sometime. Oh wait, I forgot your dad programmed emotional attachments out of you."

"You're a regular comic this morning. And don't be too much of a big shot yet about your supposed relationship. You just got done telling me that you were in Fantasm a week ago. Or did you just go there for the cheap beer?"

"Things were kind of new then."

"Not like now, a week later."

"Stop turning this back to me. I'm just hoping that maybe someday magic will happen, and you'll become a real boy, Pinocchio. You might meet someone who secures your heart and pulls you out of this fucked up fog. In the meantime, you should get that business going, even if it means starting at square one."

"Secure my heart? Sometimes it seems like you don't know me at all." My phone vibrated on the counter. I was glad for the diversion from Jack's long lecture. I picked it up and read the text. "Shit, I guess today is Tuesday."

"Yep, all day."

"I've got to visit the old man today. He called me last Friday to set up a time to meet."

Jack shook his head. "What a charming relationship you two have. He actually has to pencil you in for an appointment, his only son. His only family member, for that matter. How's he doing?"

"He's got one foot in the grave, but he'll still be trying to control me even after he's dead and gone."

"You never told me how he reacted to the news of your firing."

"It's none of his damn business."

The pillow beauty came out from the bedroom wearing the yellow dress I'd noticed piled in a silky puddle in the hallway. She returned the pillows to the couch and walked into the kitchen for coffee. My friend, Mr. 'I found the one', surveyed her from head to toe as she leaned over to the coffee pot.

"I'm Jack and what is your name 'lovely wearer of pillows'?"

She laughed. "I'm Serena." She sipped the coffee. "Hmm, that hits the spot. Well, thanks for a wonderful night"—she hesitated and squinted an eye at me—"Nate, right?"

"Sure. And thank you too. I don't remember much of it, but I'm sure it was great."

She looked a little put off by my comment as she finished up the coffee. She put the cup in the sink and headed out the door without another word.

Jack's mouth creased. It seemed he was holding back another opinion. Probably a good call. He hopped off the stool. "I've got to head out. So you never told your dad about getting fired? Do you think he found out and that's why he's called a meeting?"

I followed him to the door. "Could be. Guess your free time will be scarce, what with your new serious relationship and all."

"Look who's the damn comedian now." Jack stepped outside and looked back at me. "Seriously, man, get your shit together. I'm worried about you."

"I've gone through my whole life without anyone worrying about me. I certainly don't need you to start. I'll catch you later. I've got to clear my house of naked women before I head over to Hell House."