are,” said Amelia, her eyes misty, as if her heart hurt for Lulu.
“Maybe,” she said, thinking about it.
“And if that’s Chaz, you’ve got to wrap your mind around the idea that you have to take some risks,” Viv said. “Starting with telling him who you were on Halloween night.”
Crap. Back to that again. “He’ll be so mad. I’ve lied, and Chaz always hated liars.”
“If you tell him before he finds out some other way, at least he’ll appreciate you trying to do the right thing,” said Amelia.
“I’ll just look desperate, like I’m trying to ruin his new romance with what’s-her-face.”
“Do you know how far it’s gotten?” asked Amelia. “Are they, um...serious?”
“Has he made love to her?” asked Viv.
Lulu frowned at her friend. “Oh, very nice. You ask if he’s fucked me but if he’s made love to her?”
“I was trying to be ladylike and stuff.” Viv waved a hand toward Amelia. “I figure I’ve burned her ears enough for one night. But if you want to be blunt about it...has he banged her or not?”
“They’ve gone out the past two weekends.” She nibbled her lip. “What do you suppose that means?”
“He didn’t seem to be a slow mover on Halloween,” said Viv.
Lulu had been trying not to think about that. She glared at the brunette, who immediately back-pedaled. “Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s as attracted to her as he was to you. There were some serious pheromones that night. You two might as well have started dry-humping in the middle of your dance.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
“He really seemed crazy about you,” said Amelia, nodding loyally. “For all we know, he’s gone out with her a few times specifically because he’s trying to figure out why he’s not feeling that same immediate attraction he felt for you. I mean her. Oh, heck, I have no idea what I mean.”
“I understood you the first time,” Lulu said. “Do you really think it’s possible?”
“Definitely,” said Amelia.
Viv merely shrugged and sipped her margarita. “Anything’s possible.” But she didn’t sound very convinced.
Lulu wanted to believe Amelia was right, but Chaz hadn’t been a slow mover, at least not on Halloween. She’d primed him, gotten him totally worked up and ready, and some other woman had moved in for the kill, taking orgasms that should rightfully have been Lulu’s.
Orgasms, and now her holiday dinner, too.
“I still can’t believe he invited her for Thanksgiving.”
Lulu was kicking herself for having agreed to attend. She wouldn’t have if she’d known he was going to invite the redhead, who, upon hearing about the pot-luck holiday meal, had claimed she, too, was being “orphaned” by vacationing family members on Thanksgiving. It sounded to Lulu like the schemer had angled for an invitation the way a pro fisherman went after the biggest carp. And Chaz had acted like a well-hooked fish.
Since all their parents were going to be away, Chaz had decided to step up and host a holiday meal for all his friends who had no place else to go. That included her and Lawrence, Chaz and his sister Sarah, as well as Peggy, Marcia and Frankie.
And Heather. Blech. Stupid secret-identity-stealing Heather.
Good grief, she was the last person Lulu wanted to spend a holiday with. If it weren’t for the real possibility that World War Three would break out between Sarah and Lawrence, with pumpkin pies and green bean casserole flying, she’d blow off the whole meal.
But she couldn’t. She’d told Chaz she would come, and that she’d help him mediate between their younger siblings. She intended to keep her word, even if it meant smiling across the table at the woman who’d stepped in and taken advantage of the man Lulu had gotten all heated up on Halloween. She wouldn’t let on what she was really thinking if it killed her.
She kept reminding herself of that a few days later, on the actual holiday.
She’d arrived at Chaz’s place early, having promised to help him decipher the instructions on cooking a twenty-pound turkey. As they’d feared, there were innards to deal with, but fortunately they were bagged, and even more fortunately, Chaz was the one who dug them out.
If she hadn’t known that Heather would be arriving later in the day, along with the other, more welcome guests, she might have actually enjoyed the time she spent in the kitchen with Chaz. His house was roomy and nicely furnished, and his kitchen pretty well stocked for a bachelor. Lulu wasn’t much of a cook, but she’d paid attention when her mom cooked holiday meals and certainly felt capable of sugaring a few yams and mashing some potatoes. Anything she didn’t remember how to do, Chaz was quick to figure out, or look up on the internet.
They made a pretty good team, if she did say so herself.
Since that day a couple of weeks ago, when they’d kissed, he’d gone back to treating her like a friend from back home. There’d been no flirtation. He’d been just a little overprotective but hadn’t pried too much into her business. He sure hadn’t kissed her, though she had turned around once or twice and caught him looking at her with an intensity he usually kept hidden.
It was at those moments she was sure he hadn’t forgotten their kiss any more than she had.
They’d opened Pandora’s box. They both knew how good they could be together, and it was impossible to un-remember that delicious, intense passion. They might have shoved it back in the box and vowed to never take it out again, but that didn’t mean they didn’t both think about it and wonder. And wonder. And wonder.
Usually, though, they managed to behave like nothing had happened. They still walked together to the train every day, still socialized with others on weekends. Lawrence had come over a few times. He and Chaz had become close again, as they’d been when they were kids, when Chaz had served as a big brother figure, before Sarah had come between them.
She and Chaz had so much in common, so much shared history, and truly enjoyed each other’s company now. Today had been laid-back and easy, fun and a little silly. He’d teased her about taking as much potato as peel, she’d harassed him for not knowing you had to add sugar to fresh cranberries to make a sauce. They drank a little wine, occasionally exchanging a long, studied glance when their hands brushed over a towel or their legs made contact under the table. The rivalry and tension from their childhood was gone, the awareness warm and unthreatening, and they got along so well it was almost as though they were a couple.
At least, until the doorbell rang.
Heather, who’d called out, “Yoo-hoo,” as she passed by the kitchen window, was out front. Heather with the perfect smile and the cutest little upturned nose matched by what Lulu suspected were surgically enhanced upturned tits. Heather who was occupying a place in Chaz’s life, in his memories, maybe even in his bed, that rightfully belonged to Lulu.
Chaz was basting the bird and asked her to get the door. Drying her hands on a dish towel, which she whipped over her shoulder,
