His father had certainly played hard. And he’d played the field too, which broke their mother’s heart. As he watched his mother cry all those years ago, Michael vowed to himself that he’d never do that to a wife. That was why he had no desire to enter a relationship or ever get married. Work hard. Play hard. Michael knew he couldn’t do both and preferred the first part. The outcome was quantifiable and the payoff was big. He had to get this deal.
With a playful growl, Shit Head bolted into the room, the end of the toilet paper in his mouth, the rest of the roll trailing behind him as he circled the room, wrapping paper around the legs of furniture in a blur of fur and white tissue.
Michael stared at the clock. Three hours and forty minutes until he saw Mia. Just over an hour before his meeting with Mr. Kawashima. He was so screwed.
…
Mia gathered the Queen B’s brushes and paint and glanced at her watch. Just over three and a half hours until Michael got home. She sighed. It was pathetic that she was so wrapped up in a guy that she measured time by his arrival.
“I heard that sigh,” Blanche said.
Betty clucked her tongue. “Me, too.”
“Why don’t you go home and make yourself pretty for him?” Bernice suggested.
Mia turned the water on and rinsed the first brush, not responding.
“She’s ignoring us,” Gladys said. “Maybe because he’s ignoring her.”
“He is not ignoring me.” She whacked the brush against the side of the sink to knock the water out of the bristles. “Quite the opposite.”
“Then why is she beating that paintbrush senseless?” Gladys asked.
Without turning, she picked up the other two brushes and rinsed them. “Because I’m frustrated.”
“Living with a man that hot, she should not be frustrated.”
Bang, bang, bang went the brushes against the side of the stainless steel sink.
“Hush, Gladys,” Blanche said. “You know, Mia honey, we have over three centuries of experience among us. Why don’t you let us help you work through this?”
“Or she could at least spill and let us vicariously enjoy it,” Gladys added.
Despite her frustration, that made Mia laugh. Gladys always made her smile.
“Come on, baby. Sit down with the Queen B’s and fill us in,” Betty said.
Bernice patted the chair next to her. “If nothing else, you’ll feel better.”
“If nothing else we’ll feel better,” Gladys added. “Then we can gossip about her based on facts, rather than speculation.”
Mia slumped into the chair and took a deep breath. Maybe talking it out would help. She started at the beginning, with the smoke alarm, and told the whole story right up to last night, when she dreamed about them tangled up together in his black, satin sheets.
“Oh, my.” Bernice fanned herself with a Reader’s Digest. “This is more exciting than those dirty movies Gladys gets on her TV.”
“I admire your conviction, Mia,” Betty said. “Hold out for a man who is serious and interested in you for more than… well, that.”
“Yes, I agree,” Blanche said. “If that’s all he wants, he’s not worth it.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Gladys said. “She’s young and missing out if she doesn’t engage in some hanky-panky. Did you see his picture? That’s not the kind of man you marry. It’s the kind of man you—”
“Excuse me,” a nurse said from the door of the rec room. “Someone is here to visit. Says he’s friends with Miss Mia.”
Who would visit her there? Oh, god. What if it was Jason? Mia could feel all eyes studying her reaction. “Did he give a name?”
“No, but he says it’s urgent.” The nurse glanced over her shoulder and back. “And he has a dog with him.”
Mia shot to her feet without thinking. Why would Michael come there? And he’d said it was urgent. Her mind shuffled through possibilities. Maybe Clancy was sick…
“Hey.” Gladys snapped her fingers. “She needs to let us meet him.”
“Oh, yeah, let him come on back.” Mia lowered herself into her chair and tried to adopt an air of nonchalance.
Michael strode into the room. To a stranger, he probably appeared completely calm, but Mia knew him well enough by then to detect the strain in his features. His lips were drawn a little too tight, and a tiny furrow marred his perfect brow. Something was wrong. “Good evening, Mia.” He nodded to the Queen B’s. “Ladies.” Clancy’s tail wagged a million times a minute as he strained against the leash to get to Mia.
She kneeled in front of the dog. “Hey, Clancy Pants, what’s up?” It was much easier to talk to the dog than Michael at the moment. His unexplained appearance was unsettling, especially after her tell-all session with the Queen B’s.
“I need you,” Michael said.
“Well, it’s about time,” Gladys blurted out.
A furious blush burned Mia’s cheeks. No telling what else Gladys would say. “To do what?” Mia asked.
“I have a meeting. It’s the foreign client I told you about.”
She’d never seen the B’s so attentive. All four of them were leaning forward expectantly.
“And?” Betty said.