“Are you guys not together?”
“Here you are!” Ron comes to stand beside me, with what can only be described as the worst timing ever.
“Hey there. I’m Ron Dixon.” He sticks his hand out to shake Don’s.
“Don Burgess. Nice to meet you.” Killer smile.
“Oh, right, the high school crush!” Ron says, and my mind flashes to all the ways I’m going to murder him later. What would possess him to say that out loud?
“Really?” Don raises his eyebrows at me. “I had no idea.”
“One of many.” I assure him. I’m guessing I’m as red as Miss Ward’s dress by now.
“Did you tell him about the P.E. laundry room?” Don jokes.
“What do you think?” I ask; then we both crack up. Not that anything hilarious happened in there, but I guess the champagne is kicking in.
“What happened in the P.E. laundry room?” Ron isn’t laughing.
“Long story, sweetie. I’ll tell you later.”
“So, is your wife here?” Ron asks.
“We’re not married, but no, Lulu’s mom isn’t here.”
Ron nods. “I’ve been there. Divorce sucks.”
“We were never married,” Don offers up.
“Oh, sorry, man. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“No worries. It’s all good.”
Wow. Thanks to my husband, I know more than I ever would have had the guts to find out on my own. Ron makes a great wingman.
While we’re chatting, I start to notice people walking around with small gold shopping bags. Ooh! I love me a gift bag. I’m guessing whatever is in there is more expensive than the wine we brought. I see Peetsa with one.
“What’d you get?” I ask, with only a bit of a slur.
“A necklace.” She sighs. “I think I’ll give it to my mother. Did you buy something?”
“Buy something?” I ask.
“Some jewelry. They’re selling it in the library.”
“Who is ‘they’?” I ask, making a beeline for the next room. Peetsa and Ron trail after me.
As I walk into the library, I can’t believe my eyes. There are two large tables of jewelry—earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings all nicely displayed. JJ Aikens is behind the tables with another woman I don’t know, and they are working diligently to keep the sales going.
I try to put the pieces together using my inebriated brain. Kim Fancy pushes me to have a parents’ cocktail party. She is eager to host it, but doesn’t want to send out the invites. I send out the invites, which makes it look like I asked her to host it. We all get here, and she’s pushing jewelry? I did not see this coming.
I walk up and stand beside Shirleen Cobb, who’s trying on earrings.
“Those look pretty,” I offer.
“Well, they should be for the price. Good lord.” She takes them off and looks me up and down. “I thought this was a Christmas party, not a shakedown.”
As she stomps away, I see JJ out of the corner of my eye.
“Hey, JJ. Where did all this stuff come from?”
“Oh, hi, Jen. Didn’t think you were coming. This stuff is jewelry designed by Kim’s friend Delia from Manhattan.”
Someone hands me another glass of champagne. It’s Ron.
“Say something nice,” he whispers in my ear. I ignore him.
“How much are these earrings?” I hold up the pair Shirleen was so disgusted by. They are gold disk clip-ons.
“Those are two hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
“Are they real gold?”
“Gold plated.” She smiles. “Aren’t they gorgeous? You would look great in those.” She looks at Ron. “Are you Jen’s husband? You should totally get her those for Christmas.”
“Umm” is all Ron can think of to say.
“Really. You should. And you can even say you got them in Manhattan, because technically that’s where they’re from.” JJ is working hard for what I’m sure is some sort of commission.
Just then we hear a loud crash from the other room. I hand JJ the earrings, and Ron and I hurry toward the noise. We are greeted by the sight of Nancy Fancy in her pajamas sitting on the floor with the Christmas wreath centerpiece and some cheese and bread around her. Kim Fancy glides over from the other side of the room.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just wanted a piece of cheese.”
Kim looks up at her guests with an embarrassed smile.
“Sorry, everyone. It seems Nancy still needs to learn how to ask for a snack.”
There is some light laughter and then, out of nowhere, Miss Ward comes sprinting across the room like a streak of red paint.
“Oh, my goodness, sweetie, are you okay?” She kneels down beside the very embarrassed little girl.
“I’m okay,” Nancy says in a tiny voice.
“Well, let me check you all over.” Miss Ward starts to tickle Nancy, who starts to giggle.
“Thanks, Miss Ward,” she says, and then gives her a hug.
“Awww,” sings the Greek chorus of parents standing around.
Kim steps in, gives Miss Ward a strained smile, and helps Nancy get up. She whispers something in the little girl’s ear that makes her nod and scoot out of the room.
“And that’s our show for tonight,” Kim says with a smile that once again doesn’t reach her eyes.
I turn to Ron, who’s staring at Miss Ward with a frown.
“What?”
“I might be crazy, but wasn’t the V in the back of her dress?”
I look at Miss Ward, who is just getting herself off the floor and showing some impressive cleavage.
“Why, I believe you are correct, Mr. Observant.”
Peetsa and Buddy join us as people get back to their conversations.
“Wasn’t the V down the back of her dress earlier?” Buddy asks Ron.
“I said the same thing.” Ron laughs, and they high-five.
“Really, guys?” I roll my eyes. “Buddy, close your eyes. What color are my pants?”
“Uh, black?” He blushes.
“I’m wearing a skirt.”
“You have to admit it’s kind of weird,” Peetsa says. “Why would she turn her dress around?”
“Why does she do anything?” I’m frustrated and a little off balance from the champagne.
“Maybe someone took it off for her,” Buddy mumbles to Ron and they high-five again. I take this as a sign that it’s time to go home. I really want to take my pantyhose off.
“I’m going to pee and then we should get out of here before I say something I’m going to regret.”
I’m not on the sturdiest of legs as I walk toward the foyer powder room, which I had noticed on the way in. I open the door and find Don Burgess zipping up his pants.
“Whoops, sorry.” As I turn to back out, I trip on my heels and fall sideways toward Don. He grabs me with both arms.
“Wow, you’re really falling for me,” he jokes.
He stands me back upright, but doesn’t let go. Either he doesn’t think I can stand up on my own or he’s enjoying this mini embrace as much as I am. For a moment we stand face to face and that urge to kiss him rears its ugly head again. But this time I feel the pull from him as well. The energy between us is heady—or maybe that’s the Polo. Oh, my God, is this really going to happen?
“Everything okay?” Ron is standing looking at what I can imagine is a very compromising situation.