Page 38 of Brooklynaire
“No!” Lauren says quickly. “There’s nothing between those two. Nate doesn’t want to get an offer from Alex on the router division because he thinks he can get a better deal if someone else offersfirst.”
“Oh, okay…” Hmm. “Tonight just got so much less interesting than I thought it was. Too bad I’m not supposed to drink. Georgia—come here, honey. Let me fix yourmascara.”
My friend turns around. “Did I goof itup?”
“Not yet, baby doll. But you’re probably going to. Let Auntie Becca dothat.”
“You have no confidence in me!” Georgia wails. But then she hands over the mascarawand.
“I have every confidence in you! Except when it comes to fashion and makeup.” I love the girl to death but she’s a jock, the poor thing. Her idea of lipstick is the year-old Chapstick in the pocket of her wintercoat.
After saving Georgia’s face, I put on my dress. Somehow I end up standing side by side with my rival in the mirror. Lauren is tall and willowy. She’s wearing a blue silk dress that our star goalie actually picked out for her in a boutique when they were together. She looks like a goddamn moviestar.
We are a study in contrasts. I’m about five inches shorter, for starters. I’m the short, curvy friend. When I found this dress in an antiques shop in Brooklyn, I chose it for its shape. It’s nipped in at the waist, like me, but with plenty of room for my boobs. My figure was very popular in the 1950s. Now? Not somuch.
Come on now, I coach myself.Chin up. Tonight is my chance to have a little fun. Maybe I’ll meet a cute basketball player and hookup.
A girl candream.
“You know…” Lauren frowns at me in the mirror. “Maybe you’re on to something. Occasionally I get a vibe off of Alex, like she might have a thing for Nate. But I could be wrong. And lord knows Nate might not even notice. That man is pretty sharp about everyone’s motivations, and a total dunce when it comes tohimself.”
She rolls her eyes in the mirror, and I have a moment of sympathy for the bossman. “Did you ever meet Juliet, hisex?”
“No!You?” Lauren adjusts an earring, and our eyes meet in the mirror. She looks utterly intrigued. Apparently Nate’s not the only one who enjoysgossip.
“Of course I did. She was around a lot in the early days. Nate didn’t travel as much the first year I worked with him, and their offices were walking distance apart. She would bring by dinner for him sometimes. They were a cute couple.”At least atfirst.
“It’s hard to picture Nate as half a couple,” Laurenadmits.
“He was, though,” I argue. I feel the urge to defend him. “He was devoted—the kind of fiancé who wants to help plan the wedding. They were going with aDoctor Whotheme, with TARDIS on top of thecake…”
Lauren snorts, but I’d found the whole thing adorable.Whimsical. He’d been devoted toher.
Until she threw it all in hisface.
I turn away from the mirror and admire Georgia’s new pink dress, and the conversation turns to the team’s playoff chances and to the merits of different-sized round brushes for blowdryinghair.
Nothing recharges the batteries like a little girl-to-girlchitchat.
“Hold this?” Georgia says, handing off her wine glass so she can step into her heels. “God, I hate heels. How do you do it?” she asksme.
“I’m a short girl. I’ve been practicing sincepuberty.”
There’s a knock on the door. I’m about to call out a greeting when Nate’s voice says, “Lauren?”
“Hang on!” she answers, setting down her roundbrush.
“We need a minute!” I holler. “We’re notdecent!”
It’s a total lie, and so everyone laughs as Lauren pulls the door open. Nate stands there, a bow tie in his hand. “Come in,” Laurenencourages.
Looking a little shell-shocked, he takes in the scene of our pre-party—the food on the table and wine. His eyes snag on me, and for some reason he scowls. “I’ve been on the phone with Silicon Valley all day. Didn’t know there was a party nextdoor.”
“You poor, poor thing,” I croon. I skip over to take the tie out of his hand. “Did you really just knock on Lauren’s door because you can’t tie a bowtie?”
If I’m not mistaken, he blushes. “I hate tuxes.” His gaze drops to the glass in my hand. “I thought you weren’t supposed todrink?”
Uh-oh. I open my mouth to declare my innocence, but Georgia takes the glass from my hand. “She’s holding that for me so I could try on theseshoes.”
