If the Stiletto Fits.... Wendy Etherington
slid her arm from her friend’s grasp and was about to shove another bite of pizza in her mouth when Gwen grabbed that, too. Man, that woman was tough. She had a reputation for tough, and Lily knew better than anybody just how truly deserved it was.
She, Gwen and Kristin had met about five years ago at a women’s business seminar. They’d all been out of school for a few years—Lily from the fashion institute, Gwen from NYU and Kristin from the Pink Petal School of Hair and Cosmetology. Lily had been working for a top designer at the time, but he never let her share her creativity or have any input into the designs. The others had had similar experiences, so, frustrated working for other people, each of them had decided to open her own business—and had absolutely no idea what the hell they were doing.
Over the years they’d shared ideas, triumphs and setbacks in both their business and personal lives. Lily was more grateful for their friendship than just about anything.
Kristin brought glasses, the wine bottle and ice bucket into the den, arranging everything on the coffee table. Then, when she saw the pizza, sent Gwen into the kitchen for a decent snack.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the sofa, Kristin stared at Lily. “Let’s start with Brian.”
She huffed out a breath. “Why? I don’t care about Brian.” How whiny could she get? She hated how this was affecting her so adversely, but, damn, she really hadn’t seen a day this awful coming.
“But maybe I’ll understand a little better how you got in this state,” Kristin said.
Gwen—her tall, thin body encased in a spectacular bronze dress, her dark hair pulled up loose and sexy on her head—shoved aside a stack of magazines, then set a plate of grapes and cheese on the coffee table. Lily’s gaze shifted to Kristin—a voluptuous blonde, who wore a body-skimming pale pink pantsuit.
She’d really messed up her friends’ night out. Since they looked as great as they did, she felt doubly guilty. “I shouldn’t have dragged you guys over here.”
Kristin waved her hand. “Forget it. We weren’t having that good a time, anyway.”
As she was settling on the other end of the sofa, Gwen opened her mouth, looking as if she might argue, but bit into a grape instead.
“So, Gwen told me Brian thought you were vulnerable and that’s why he proposed.”
“What I want to know,” Gwen said, “is whether you kneed him in the balls or ground your stiletto into his foot.”
Lily tossed back her hair. “Neither. I showed great restraint.”
Kristin grinned. “That’s a first.”
“He also said I needed a partner who’d support and understand me.” Lily frowned. “I’ve got James. What do I need with a partner?”
Kristin pursed her lips. “He probably meant an emotional partner, someone to share your life with.”
Lily waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m not ready for a commitment like that. Besides, I’ve got friends.”
“What about sex?” Gwen asked.
Lily gulped her wine. “According to my cabbie, marriage isn’t a guarantee of that, either.” And she was going to give her sister hell about that the next time they talked. She’d never felt as though she fit in with her conservative, country-loving family, though she’d never all out said she was against something as basic to human life as marriage. But this whole lack-of-sex thing had her reassessing.
“My cousin says the same thing,” Kristin added. “Says she and her husband never do it anymore.”
“I wasn’t that interested in Brian, anyway,” Lily said, then, sighing—the whole deal really was pretty embarrassing—she recounted her conversation with Brian, including his revelation that he wanted a sugar mama.
Kristin shook her head in disgust. “Men are whacked.”
“It’s no wonder we’re not all married and knocked up on a regular basis,” Gwen said dryly.
Lily raised her eyebrows, the picture of a blown-up Gwen zipping laughingly before her eyes. “You pregnant? Ha!”
“Maybe someday,” Gwen said.
“You’re not very maternal, girl,” Kristin pointed out.
“You kill plants,” Lily said.
“And pets,” Kristin added.
“One fish.” Eyes narrowed, Gwen raised her finger. “One lousy, stupid beta fish, and you guys think I’m a killer.”
“Well, you can’t deny your place is a grave for any kind of fern, ivy or ficus tree,” Lily said.
“I can’t help it if people keep giving them to me.” She pointed at Lily. “In fact, you gave me the last green thing.”
“Along with fertilizer and very specific instructions. I still don’t know how you managed to kill it in less than a week.”
“I would have thrown myself off the balcony the first day,” Kristin said without meeting Gwen’s gaze. “Less suffering that way.”
Gwen crossed her arms over her chest. “Since when did this become a ‘let’s pick on Gwen’ party?” She snapped her fingers. “Let’s get back on topic, people.”
Lily pushed out her lip. “I don’t want to talk about Brian anymore.”
“I agree,” Kristin said. “What a jerk.”
“Then we move on to James.” Gwen met Lily’s gaze. “How much time have you got?”
“Three months.”
“Three months! What happened to giving two weeks’ notice?”
“James plans ahead,” Lily said. And she didn’t. Yet another reason she absolutely couldn’t let him go. She really wished she could set aside the clawing fear that she was going to fall flat on her face if James left, but the dread in the pit of her stomach just wouldn’t subside.
“Okay, so we’ve got some time to convince him to stay,” Kristin said.
Gwen kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. “Just sleep with him.”
Kristin toasted Gwen with her half-empty wine-glass. “Sounds like a plan. He’s dreamy.”
Lily stared down at her friend. “Dreamy? James?”
Kristin batted her lashes. “He’s got great eyes.”
“And a great ass,” Gwen added.
Had she been asleep for the last nine months? “Since when are you two checking out my assistant?”
Gwen smiled. “Since the moment he got here.”
Lily fluffed up the pillow behind her head. “I’m not sleeping with him.” Not that James was completely un-sleep-with material. She just didn’t think a) he’d go for it, or b) that he’d be fooled for a second by her sudden amorousness. “I could throw a fit.”
Kristin giggled. “I bet you already did that.”
“I might have raised my voice,” Lily said indignantly, even as Gwen snorted with laughter. “But Connecticut, Kris! Why would anyone want to live in Connecticut?”
“It’s peaceful and elegant. Lots of nice estates and quaint towns.”
“I guess they have some great restaurants,” Gwen said. “You can get a kick-butt chowder—”
“You two are not helping.”
“What have you got against a whole state?” Gwen asked, reaching over to pull the wine from the ice bucket.
“They…they have…cows.”
Gwen