Last Phrase

Today’s blog is brought to you by the phrase: Clam Jam

Sami Lee and Lexxie Couper joined in today. This is the last day for our fun with words and phrases. I know I’ve enjoyed it and I hope you did as well. Without further ado…

 

Jambrea Jo Jones

“It’s a regular clam jam in here.” Fred exclaimed as they walked into the bar.

Henry looked around in surprised. Usually the place was packed with men.

“Must be ladies night.” Henry shrugged. “Does it matter?” He took Fred’s hand in his.

“No, because I get to dance with you no matter what.”

“So you’re happy?”

“I am. And maybe a little shocked.”

“So now would be a good time to tell you—mom-is-staying-for-another-week.”

“What did you say?”

Henry smiled and tugged Fred to the bar.

 

Mari Carr

“You ready to go?” Brittany asked.

“Um, no,” Shea replied. “Do you see me talking to Jason? I think I’ve got a shot.:

“Sorry, I’m just really tired. Please?”

Shea rolled her eyes. “Typical clam jam. Fine. Let’s go.”

 

Sami Lee

“If you don’t get over there soon, that bitch is going to clam jam you.”

Tessa almost choked on the mouthful of white wine she’d just sipped. She stared at her friend Helena. “What on earth does that mean?”

“It’s like cock blocking for chicks,” Helena explained. “Don’t you read the urban dictionary?”

“Not regularly enough, apparently,” Tessa drawled. She glanced across the crowded boardroom to see Sean—handsome, athletic, talented Sean—talking to the receptionist who’d just started working at Walter and Shilton Lawyers. The woman was doing that arm-touching thing, the universal body language for ‘I am totally up for it’.

Tessa clutched her wine glass as everything in her chest pulled tight. Women were always coming onto Sean, and it never failed to make Tessa feel queasy.

“You know you have to do something, don’t you?” Helena prompted gently. “Forget the stupid no-fraternization policy. You need to tell Sean you’ve got the hots for him before some other woman scoops him up.”

Tessa winced inwardly at the very thought of walking straight up to Sean, the most handsome and successful lawyer at Walter and Shilton, and telling him she’d been having inappropriate daydreams about ripping his shirt off and doing him right on his expansive oak desk.

Not going to happen. Ever.

 

Lexxie Couper

He handed me a tiny square of toasted bread with something dark and mushy spread on it.

I took a sniff. “What is it?”

He grinned. “It’s delicious. Eat it.”

I cocked a dubious eyebrow.

He grinned again, wider this time. “Go on. Eat it.”

I took another sniff. “And you say this is caviar?”

He nodded.

I pulled a face. “Smells like clam jam.”

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