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Authors: Michele Zurlo
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on you a little less, maybe he would’ve been actual competition.”
Needless to say, Luma didn’t have a high opinion of Owen. I saw him as one of those people who desperately wanted to be smarter than he was. He clung to his more intelligent friends, listened, parroted, and hoped for the best. At some point, he’d come to believe he was just as smart as everybody else. But he wasn’t, and time and circumstances eventually catch up with everybody.
That delusion had led Owen to belittle Jane on more than one occasion. We didn’t understand why she continued to help him study. At this news, I felt a sense of gloating vindication.
“Jane, you’re a brilliant lawyer. You deserve this. Don’t let Owen Glazer diminish your accomplishment.”
She studied her drink, probably replaying a confrontation in her head. A frown marred her forehead and chin. “He said I could only jiggle my boobs for so long before they start sagging to my knees, and then the firm would lose interest in me.”
I wanted to punch him.
Luma must have felt the same way. She narrowed her eyes to slits, and in the darkened room, she looked positively feral. “Call the son of a bitch. Invite him here. I’ll come on to him in the alley out back, get him naked. Lacey will steal his clothes, and then we’ll leave his ass twisting in the wind.”
The plan sounded like something I’d lie about. I hoped Luma was kidding.
Jane giggled, washing away her guilt and the tension. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too.” Luma and Jane shared a moment of drunken awareness, then they burst with the kind of pure laughter found only in those inebriated connections. As the sober party, I felt a little left out.
“Hey, you’re Lacey, right?”
I swung my attention around to see the drummer in Dylan’s band. Now that I was sitting on a high-legged chair, I stood/sat face to face with her. She had the same oval face as her brother, though her jaw wasn’t as square, and she also shared the dark hair and teal eyes.
I wasn’t used to knowing the family members of men I dated—not that Dylan and I were dating. We’d shared two conversations in two different ladies’ rooms. That wasn’t romantic, and I doubted it was even hygienic. I cleared my throat and answered the woman. “Yeah.”
She offered me her hand. “Daisy Day. Dylan didn’t introduce us earlier. He told me about how you met.”
I blushed. I’ve never wished so much to be drunk. Why had I thought it was a good idea to volunteer for DD duty? “It was an accident.” Points to me for not stammering. I wrung my hands together, and I knew I’d be fighting the urge to wash them very soon.
Daisy laughed. “Audra and Monty thought it was hilarious.”
Audra. His wife. She knew who I was. Of course she’d remember someone who spilled coffee all over her husband’s lap. All of a sudden, it hit me. I was here tonight to see a married man. After all the promises I’d made to myself—after all the affirmations about how I deserved somebody honest, somebody who loved me and only me—here I was, about to dive into the same tainted pool once more.
Shame flooded my body. I wanted to cry and wash my hands. Several lies came to mind. I have a brain tumor, and I’m dying. I’m a lesbian. Anything to get me out of this situation.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh. I—It was an accident. I’m glad his wife isn’t upset.”
Daisy’s brows lifted, hiding under her bangs. “Audra is my wife. Monty’s our son.”
I stared at her for a long time as her statements penetrated my thick skull. Then I thought about the second lie I’d considered, and a slow giggle trickled from me. It went on and on. Jane and Luma emerged from their love-fest to stare. Tears wet my eyelashes. Also in that manic episode was no small measure of relief. Dylan wasn’t married. He’d been out with his nephew and sister-in-law.
I wasn’t heading off the cliff into Bad Mistake Land. Things in my life were truly on
Needless to say, Luma didn’t have a high opinion of Owen. I saw him as one of those people who desperately wanted to be smarter than he was. He clung to his more intelligent friends, listened, parroted, and hoped for the best. At some point, he’d come to believe he was just as smart as everybody else. But he wasn’t, and time and circumstances eventually catch up with everybody.
That delusion had led Owen to belittle Jane on more than one occasion. We didn’t understand why she continued to help him study. At this news, I felt a sense of gloating vindication.
“Jane, you’re a brilliant lawyer. You deserve this. Don’t let Owen Glazer diminish your accomplishment.”
She studied her drink, probably replaying a confrontation in her head. A frown marred her forehead and chin. “He said I could only jiggle my boobs for so long before they start sagging to my knees, and then the firm would lose interest in me.”
I wanted to punch him.
Luma must have felt the same way. She narrowed her eyes to slits, and in the darkened room, she looked positively feral. “Call the son of a bitch. Invite him here. I’ll come on to him in the alley out back, get him naked. Lacey will steal his clothes, and then we’ll leave his ass twisting in the wind.”
The plan sounded like something I’d lie about. I hoped Luma was kidding.
Jane giggled, washing away her guilt and the tension. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too.” Luma and Jane shared a moment of drunken awareness, then they burst with the kind of pure laughter found only in those inebriated connections. As the sober party, I felt a little left out.
“Hey, you’re Lacey, right?”
I swung my attention around to see the drummer in Dylan’s band. Now that I was sitting on a high-legged chair, I stood/sat face to face with her. She had the same oval face as her brother, though her jaw wasn’t as square, and she also shared the dark hair and teal eyes.
I wasn’t used to knowing the family members of men I dated—not that Dylan and I were dating. We’d shared two conversations in two different ladies’ rooms. That wasn’t romantic, and I doubted it was even hygienic. I cleared my throat and answered the woman. “Yeah.”
She offered me her hand. “Daisy Day. Dylan didn’t introduce us earlier. He told me about how you met.”
I blushed. I’ve never wished so much to be drunk. Why had I thought it was a good idea to volunteer for DD duty? “It was an accident.” Points to me for not stammering. I wrung my hands together, and I knew I’d be fighting the urge to wash them very soon.
Daisy laughed. “Audra and Monty thought it was hilarious.”
Audra. His wife. She knew who I was. Of course she’d remember someone who spilled coffee all over her husband’s lap. All of a sudden, it hit me. I was here tonight to see a married man. After all the promises I’d made to myself—after all the affirmations about how I deserved somebody honest, somebody who loved me and only me—here I was, about to dive into the same tainted pool once more.
Shame flooded my body. I wanted to cry and wash my hands. Several lies came to mind. I have a brain tumor, and I’m dying. I’m a lesbian. Anything to get me out of this situation.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh. I—It was an accident. I’m glad his wife isn’t upset.”
Daisy’s brows lifted, hiding under her bangs. “Audra is my wife. Monty’s our son.”
I stared at her for a long time as her statements penetrated my thick skull. Then I thought about the second lie I’d considered, and a slow giggle trickled from me. It went on and on. Jane and Luma emerged from their love-fest to stare. Tears wet my eyelashes. Also in that manic episode was no small measure of relief. Dylan wasn’t married. He’d been out with his nephew and sister-in-law.
I wasn’t heading off the cliff into Bad Mistake Land. Things in my life were truly on
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