Page 133 of A Dead End Wedding

It was my turn to shrug. "Not a clue. These boats are way out of my price range, as you can tell by the luxury automobile we're currently driving."

"Ah, yes. The luxury Pink Mobile."

We climbed out of the car and walked to meet Sarah, who'd walked toward the parking lot and stood staring at my car. Probably the first time a mere Honda had graced the hallowed parking lot of the Orange Grove marina. I threaded my way through the dozen European cars parked there, trying to pretend I hadn't just driven up in a car the color of esophagus.

She was a small woman, maybe five and a half feet tall, if that, and slender. She had carefully styled bottle-blonde hair, worn in the dreaded "lawyer bob" that my friends and I had made fun of throughout law school. Her casual clothes were effortlessly chic and obviously designer. The diamond on her wedding ring nearly blinded me. She looked more like the aging tennis-playing, country-club going wife of some corporate type than the brilliant trial lawyer she was reputed to be.

Of course, I'd been told I looked like an airheaded bimbo. Goes to show how much looks matter.

"Sarah! Sorry we're a few minutes late. This is my friend Emily. She is a huge yacht enthusiast, and since she and I had dinner plans this evening, I thought she'd get a kick out of seeing your boat. I hope you don't mind."

Sarah's eyes narrowed noticeably behind her designer Italian sunglasses, but she was too much of a political animal to insult Emily before she knew Emily's rating on the great food chain of life. In her St. John casual wear, Emily could have been a power player — or at least the wife of one.

"Of course not. I'm Sarah Greenberg of Greenberg and Smithies. And you are?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Emily Kingsley, Sarah Greenberg. I'm sure we'll all be great friends and having PJ parties in no time," I said, doing my "hearty good old girl" act. "So, the Tort feasance. Fun name. Should we hop aboard?"

Sarah's gaze burned into me, stopping just short of a full-out glare. The woman seemed not to like me.Go figure.

"Yes, right this way. I'll give you the ten-dollar tour, and we can have drinks on the deck." She motioned us to follow her across the little bridge to the boat, and I tried not to wonder about whether I'd get seasick while we were parked at the dock. Or anchored, or whatever the term was.

"Do you have any Dramamine?" I asked.

Sarah shot me a scornful glance. "I'm sure you'll be fine. I was planning a cruise around the harbor while we have our drinks, but if you're the type who gets sick, we'll stay here."

Ah, the familiar "mine is bigger than yours" tactic.

I smiled sweetly. "No, not at all. I'd love to go on a cruise."

Emily wandered over from where she'd been leaning on the rail. "Sure. Rick can do the kids' baths tonight."

"Oh, do you have children? What do you do, Emily?" Sarah morphed back into a polite hostess before my eyes. It was kind of scary to watch.

"Yes, I have two little monsters. I stay home with them, mostly," Emily replied, seemingly very relaxed. She didn't notice the undercurrents of tension at all, clearly. I was on my own. Sarah's act was too well-honed for a non-lawyer to pick up on.

"Oh, I'm sure they're lovely," Sarah cooed. "What does your husband do?"

"He's an accountant with a firm downtown."

I saw the computer behind Sarah's eyes process the information and adjust Emily's ranking on the importance-o-meter in less than half a second. "Right," she said, eyes almost visibly glazing over. "Karl? Would you be so kind as to do a quick run for us, so we can enjoy the sunset and our drinks?"

A man dressed in nautical white stepped forward from the shadows in the doorway. I hadn't even noticed him standing there, which was rather amazing, since he was enormous. One of those tributes to steroids, he was seriously top heavy, and his bald head gleamed in the light. I had no idea how he'd found a shirt with sleeves that fit over his biceps and tried not to stare at him. He did a little half-bow to Sarah. "Certainly, Miss Greenberg. Any particular destination?"

"Surprise me," she said, not even looking at him. But there was something between them – some little ripple of energy – and that tingly feeling in my head zinged. I studied him as hestrode off, presumably for the steering wheel. Either he didn't like his boss one teensy bit, or he was sleeping with her.

Or both.

I glanced at Emily, but she was chatting with Sarah about the teakwood on the deck, blithely oblivious to any weird vibes. I was starting to seriously doubt her claims of reading tells on the poker circuit, but maybe that was a lot different from reading ordinary people.

Twenty minutes of small talk and a nice bottle of Shiraz later, we'd come far enough that I couldn't see the marina any more. Sarah stood up, and Karl walked through the door toward us. Sarah smiled at Emily. "Emily, December and I need to discuss some boring legal matters. I'm sure you'd rather have a nice tour of the boat than sit around and listen. Plus, of course, there is that pesky little confidentiality issue. Karl would love to take you on a tour, wouldn't you, Karl?"

Karl glowered at Sarah as if he'd rather tell her to go jump, but he mumbled his assent and Emily wandered off with him, still smiling and chatting. That woman could get along with King Kong.

It was a trait I envied. A lot.

We watched them go, and then Sarah refilled my glass.

"Trying to get me drunk and take advantage of my client?" I asked, only half joking.

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