happy,” Mickey put in, veering the subject away from No-Account Kenny.
Beth swallowed one bite of the wedding cake before licking the crumbs from her lip. “She’s glowing.”
That met with a long, jealous silence. They might as well just brand the lot of them with a scarlet L.
“Who needs love?” Cassandra asked, and then took a healthy drink of champagne.
Beth never took her eyes off the happy couple. “I do.”
With a bit more violence than finesse, Jessica speared the olive in her drink. This was an argument they’d had many times. “No, Beth, you don’t. You’re a single woman with your independence, you can stay up as late as you want, let the laundry stack up, go to happy hour whenever you choose. What’s not to love?” Just to prove her point, she swallowed the olive whole, a gesture her freshman-year fiancé had abhorred. They had broken up soon after.
Beth defended herself. “Sometimes it’s lonely.”
“Get a cat,” Mickey said.
Was a cat everyone’s answer to life? Jessica just shook her head. “Oh, please, no. Aunt Charisse had ten cats when she died. They could not get the smell out of the carpet. Ever. Finally replaced the carpet, the padding, even deodorized the slab, and still they had to take ten K off the price.”
Mickey raised her sunglasses and studied the bride once more. They’d all gone to college with Annie Summers, and now, six years after graduation, Annie was the first to get married. Second if you counted Beth’s two-week marriage, but they usually didn’t count Kenny. “I think white just isn’t her color. She should have done something with a rose tone for her complexion, don’t you think?”
“I heard they’re going to the Caribbean for the honeymoon.” Beth studied the hors d’oeuvre on the side table, finally settling for the curried shrimp.
“That’s so cliché.”
“I want to go to the Canadian Rockies on my honeymoon.” Beth sounded as though she was reciting a Christmas list. Jessica wanted to shake her sometimes, tell her the world wasn’t one big Disney movie, but she never did. Instead, they did their best to protect Beth from ever learning that Disney owned Miramax, too.
“Why don’t you go by yourself?” Cassandra asked.
Beth froze, her blue eyes wide. “I could, couldn’t I?”
Mickey shrugged. “Sure.”
“I don’t know. If I went now, where would I go on my honeymoon?” Beth sounded so certain. As if honeymoons were part of life’s guarantees. Jessica was much more realistic. There were no guarantees, unless you did it yourself.
“What if you don’t ever get married again?” Always the troublemaker, Cassandra wouldn’t let it drop.
“Cassandra, don’t scare the girl,” Jessica said, working to avoid a scene.
“She doesn’t need a man,” Cassandra insisted.
Jessica just rolled her eyes at that. “Big words from a woman who always has a date on Saturday night.”
After one regal sniff, Cassandra went on. “No, I’m serious. I could remain single for the rest of my life and be happy.”
Mickey raised a hand, sans ring. “I could, too.”
Beth stood firm. “Not me. I want to get married.”
Jessica raised her glass. “To the solo state of mind. Junk food and chick flicks forever. A bachelorette pact, single forever.”
Mickey and Cassandra clinked glasses. “Hear, hear.”
By the look on her face, Beth knew she was defeated. After a long moment of silence, she joined in. “Screw ’em all.”
Cassandra laughed, that throaty laugh she had perfected over the years. “Honey, life isn’t long enough.”
Sometimes marriage was overrated, but Jessica knew the truth. They had been single for so long that it was now easier to attack the institution of marriage than to face failure. Jessica hated failure.
“Marriage is nothing more than a woman’s subjugation to a man’s need for dominance. Ha. They try and dominate me, I’ll pin the laser on them.” Mickey worked at a research lab and had never yet met a man, or anyone for that matter, with a higher IQ.
Jessica speared another olive. “You know, there are some advantages to marriage. Actually, ever since the government tinkered with the tax structure, it doesn’t cost as much as it used to. For instance, I would probably jump into the next tax bracket, assuming he’s a white-collar professional; however, I’d get a credit of almost eight thousand. Not a great investment, but I suppose if he’s willing to cook every now and then, it could be worth it.” Jessica hated to cook.
“Or you could take all that money you’d put in extra taxes and buy your Porsche.”
That earned a smile. Only 2.1 more years and then the Porsche would be hers. Unless she got the promotion to vice president at Hard-Wire Networks, a computer networking equipment manufacturer. Not likely, but possible. The raise would put her in Porsche-attainment status within nine months.
“Now you’ve done it,” Mickey said with a sigh. “She’s going to have an orgasm, right here.”
Of course, if Adam Taylor had his evil way, she wouldn’t be polishing a Porsche, she’d be polishing her résumé. The impending buyout made her nervous, made her cranky and worst of all, made her sneeze. First her nose tickled, then twitched, and finally she began to wheeze.
Mickey started to laugh.
Jessica blew her nose and sniffed—for effect not necessity. “Orgasm? Not all of us have Cassandra’s talents.”
Cassandra’s smile spoke volumes. “All you have to do is exercise.”
Mickey waved a languid hand and assumed a Southern drawl. “I abhor exercise. I need my cabana-boy to do it for me.”
“He could be my cabana-boy,” Cassandra said with a nod to the other side of the garden.
Yes indeed, when it came down to men, they were all such frauds. Jessica, Mickey and Beth turned to look. Mickey and Beth got that gooey look. Jessica simply wanted to hit something.
He was here. Adam Taylor.
And didn’t that just put a cherry on top of the day? Tall, impossibly handsome in a dark suit, and worst of all—intelligent, witty, sharp. That brought her thoughts to a halt. Sharp like an executioner’s ax.
She shouldn’t have been surprised; the groom worked at Adam’s firm, after all.
Life really wasn’t fair. Work had been hell for her since he arrived, a consultant brought in by JCN, the international computer conglomerate, to prepare a report on Hard-Wire’s buyout potential. An “operational efficiency expert.”
Yeah, you could call ’em all the pretty terms you wanted, but you still couldn’t disguise
