âSo no dinner for guys in black hats, huh?â
âNope.â Jessica rocked back on her heels, looking rather proud of herself.
Adam studied her for a long time, wondering about all that pent-up energy, and then finally shook his head. âNow youâve done it. Youâre an insurmountable challenge, Barnes.â
For a heartbeat their gazes were locked. He could see it in her eyes: the challenge, the excitement. She loved the game just as much as he did.
âJust donât get any ideas about surmounting, if you get my drift, Taylor.â
âHey, you get your mind out of those dark, sexy places you donât want to go to, and Iâll do the same.â
She stared him down, the glasses tapping against her thigh. âYouâre no threat to my peace of mindâ¦only to my career ambitions.â
He laughed softly. âIâm going to go have dinner, Barnes. Youâre welcome to join me.â
She turned and walked away, a cocky swing in her hips. âIn your dreams, Taylor.â She tossed the words over her shoulder.
âThere, too, Barnes. There, too.â
Dear Reader,
All through my life Iâve been lucky enough to count among my friends some of the most extraordinary women in the entire universe. Some of the friendships have lasted forever, while others are more recent, but in the truest sort of friendships, years are simply relative and most often just get in the way. There is no stronger bond than the friendship between women. It is forged through the hot steel of shared suffering and stupid mistakes, and then cooled over time until only the bond remains. The years pass, marriages and children struggle and pull at the friendship, but it never breaks. Like the indomitable will of women, it will endure. Always.
Kathleen
P.S. I love to hear from readers. If youâd like to write, my address is P.O. Box 312, Nyack, NY 10960, or visit my Web site: www.kathleenoreilly.com.
JESSICA BARNES studied the bride critically. Perfect. The warm, sparkling, spring afternoon was a rare thing in Chicago. White flowers covered the arbor, not one dead blossom in sight. The musicians hadnât missed a note. The slim branches from the weeping willow trees danced in the gentle breeze. Absolutely perfect.
Yup, there was nothing like seeing fairy-tale happiness to make you feel like crap. âDo you think sheâs put on weight since college?â
Safe on the far side of the garden, far away from the white, flower-strewn tent, the four friends shook their heads. It was a sad day for them all.
Mickey was the most practical. âItâs the dress. All those ruffles. I donât know why women donât understand the illusion of substance that ruffles project.â She shook her head and made a note in her PalmPilot.
Jessica considered her own well-stocked closet, completely ruffle-free. She didnât have the fashion sense of Dior, but she managed.
Beth sighed, her eyes still locked on the groom. A long, wistful sigh that she did so well. âHe looks pretty good. Kenny never looked that good.â Kenny was Bethâs ex. An ex theyâd never liked, but that was the sort of thing you didnât tell your friends. Subtle hints, yes. Life-damaging proclamations, no.
Cassandra, never one to confess weakness, studied her nails. Ten perfect ovals trimmed in Scarlet Nights. âHe asked me out once, but I said âno.â I was in my medical-students-only stage.â
âKenny asked you out?â Bethâs wide blue eyes looked horrified.
Cassandra exhaled, her white sheath lifting gracefully. âNo. Charles, the groom.â
âShe looks happy,â 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. âSheâs glowing.â
That met with a long, jealous silence. They might as well just brand the lot of them with a scarlet L.
âWho needs love?â Cassandra asked, and then took a healthy drink of champagne.
Beth never took her eyes off the happy couple. âI do.â
With a bit more violence than finesse, Jessica speared the olive in her drink. This was an argument theyâd had many times. âNo, Beth, you donât. Youâre 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. Whatâs not to love?â 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. âSometimes itâs lonely.â
âGet a cat,â Mickey said.
Was a cat everyoneâs answer to life? Jessica just shook her head. âOh, 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.â