the only two today. It’s Friday, my friend. Live a little. Have a glass of wine, mock your uninformed banking friend and unwind.”
Shannon looked at Nicole and raised her eyebrows. “I’m in,” she said. “What about you?”
Nicole thought about her to-do list and the fact that she was behind on the laundry and had a stack of bills to pay and a husband who had walked away from a successful career in computer software to write a screenplay. She thought of the spinning and falling plates and how she spent her life exhausted.
She pulled the tie from her blond ponytail, shook her hair loose, grabbed her keys and her handbag and stood. “Let’s go.”
McGrath’s Pub had been around nearly as long as the Mischief Bay pier and boardwalk. Shannon remembered coming here when she’d been a teenager. The drive in from Riverside had taken about an hour, if there wasn’t any traffic. She and her girlfriends had spent the whole time talking and laughing, imagining the cute boys they were going to meet. Boys who lived by the ocean and surfed and had sunbleached hair. Boys not like those they knew in high school.
Because back then all it took to get her heart beating faster had been sun-bleached hair and a retro convertible. She liked to think that in the past twenty-plus years she’d matured.
As she followed her friends into the pub, her gaze strayed to the sand and the ocean beyond. It was midday and low tide. No surfers out there now. As it was also a weekday in February, there weren’t any people playing volleyball. Despite the fact that it was probably seventy degrees.
McGrath’s was a three-story building with outdoor dining on the main level. Inside there was a big, open bar. Pam led the way directly to the stairs. They bypassed the secondf loor dining room and went up to the top-f loor eating area.
“By the window?” Pam asked, already heading in that direction.
The big windows offered a view of the Pacific. Today they were partially open, allowing in some fresh air. When temperatures dropped to anything below sixty-five they could be closed and in the summer, they were removed completely.
Shannon sat across from Nicole. Pam settled next to Nicole and put her tote on the f loor next to her chair. The perfectly trained Lulu would stay hidden until they left.
The first time the three of them had played hooky and gone to lunch, Shannon had spent the entire time freaking out about Lulu. Now she saw the strange creature as the mascot for their friendship—odd, unexpected and over time, very comforting.
She turned her attention from thoughts of a Chinese crested to the restaurant location. The view should have captured their attention and left them speechless. Taupecolored sand led the way to midnight blue water. A couple of sailboats leaned in to capture the light breeze, and in the distance container ships chugged toward the horizon and the exotic ports beyond.
But this was L.A. and amazing views existed around every turn. Whether it was a star sighting at a Whole Foods or the lapping waters of the Pacific. Instead of talking about the beauty of the moment, Pam passed out menus.
“There’s a burger special,” Pam said with a sigh. “Did you see it? If I get that, will someone eat some of my fries?”
“I will,” Nicole told her. “I get the protein plate here.”
Pam wrinkled her nose. “Of course you do.”
Shannon knew the protein plate consisted of broiled fish and shrimp with a side of steamed vegetables. Healthy, sure, but the low calorie count was of more concern to the bodyconscious, bikini-clad locals.
“I’ll have a couple of fries, too,” she said. They would nicely round out the salad she generally ordered.
Pam poked Nicole in the upper arm. “You’re a stick. You should eat more.”
“I eat plenty.”
“Roots and grubs. Have a burger.” Pam leaned back in her chair. “Enjoy your metabolism while you can. Because one day, it’s all going to hell.”
“You look great,” Nicole said easily. “You’re in terrific shape.”
Pam’s brows rose. “If you say ‘for a woman my age’ I’m pitching you out the window.”
Nicole laughed. “I’d never say that. You’re nowhere near a certain age. That’s old.”
So spoke the thirty-year-old, Shannon thought wryly. Time was going faster and faster every day. She couldn’t believe she was only a few months away from turning forty, herself. She glanced at Pam and Nicole’s hands and saw the wedding bands and diamond engagement rings winking back at her. Not for the first time, Shannon considered the fact that somewhere along the way she should have gotten married.
She’d meant to, had always thought she would. Only her career had been her first priority—a fact that the men she knew didn’t like. The more successful she got, the harder it was to date. Or at least find a man who didn’t resent her devotion to her career. Lately, finding someone interesting and appealing had started to seem nearly impossible.
She briefly toyed with the idea of mentioning that. All the articles she read said that she had to put herself out there if she wanted to meet a great guy. She had to be willing to tell all her friends that she was serious and looking. Of course, she had a sneaking suspicion that many articles in women’s magazines were written by people who had no idea what they were talking about. Besides, she wasn’t keen on pity. She was a successful, vital businesswoman. Hell, she was the chief financial officer of a company grossing more than a billion dollars a year. She didn’t need a man in her life. Which wasn’t to say she might not like having one around.
“How’s my favorite young man?” Pam asked.
Nicole smiled. “Tyler is great. I can’t believe he’s turning five in a couple of months. It’s going so fast. He’ll be in kindergarten in September.” She paused. “In a way, that will be nice. There’ll be less day-care juggling.”
As she finished speaking, her smile faded and a muscle twitched in her cheek. As if she were clenching her teeth.
Shannon hesitated, not sure if she should ask what was wrong. Because she already knew the answer. The three of them had been in the same exercise class for nearly two years. While she and Pam were faithful participants, the same couldn’t be said for anyone else. For some reason, the Friday noon class tended to attract the f lakier clients.
Which meant it had often been just the three of them. They’d talked between Pilates moves, had shared various ups and downs. Shannon knew that Brandon, Pam’s youngest, had been a wild teenager—to the point of driving so drunk, he’d wrapped his car around a tree. Now he was a sober, determined student in medical school. She’d listened as Nicole had tried to explain her bewilderment that her stable, hard-working husband had quit his job to write a screenplay and surf. In turn, Shannon had shared the tribulations of her own personal life. Everything from the challenge of being the only female executive at a tech company to the difficulty finding a Mr. Right who supported her career goals.
While Shannon searched for a delicate way to ask if Nicole’s comment meant Eric was still determined to conquer Hollywood, Pam plunged right in.
“He continues to be an idiot?” she asked.
Nicole wrinkled her
