Mommies Behaving Badly. Roz Bailey

Mommies Behaving Badly - Roz Bailey


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      Outstanding praise for the novels of Roz Bailey!

      POSTCARDS FROM LAST SUMMER

      “Bailey does a great job at keeping the plot twists coming…She’s created the summer’s ultimate beach read.”

      —Chicago Sun-Times

      “Bailey delivers a delightfully relaxing read filled with captivating characters.”

      —Booklist

      “Definitely worth a read.”

      —Romantic Times

      RETAIL THERAPY

      “If readers thought Becky Bloomwood of Shopaholic fame was bad, wait until they meet Alana-Marshall Hughs…The author of Party Girls and Girls’ Night Out again delivers a light-hearted, entertaining comedy.”

      —Booklist

      “A pleasant, easy read, enlivened by fast-paced storytelling.”

      —Romantic Times

      GIRLS’ NIGHT OUT

      “Even better than her first outing, Bailey’s second novel is delightful and impossible to put down.”

      —Booklist

      PARTY GIRLS

      “Roz Bailey’s trio of fabulous 30-something Manhattanites are still the eponymous party girls in this Sex and the City-style urban romp.”

      —Publishers Weekly

      “Bailey’s tale is snazzy, fun, and filled with likable characters worth rooting for.”

      —Booklist

      “An invigorating story, filled with dynamic, appealing characters…Highly recommended, Party Girls is a thoroughly satisfying read.”

      —Romantic Times

      Books by Roz Bailey

      PARTY GIRLS

      GIRLS’ NIGHT OUT

      RETAIL THERAPY

      POSTCARDS FROM LAST SUMMER

      MOMMIES BEHAVING BADLY

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

      Mommies Behaving Badly

      Roz Bailey

      KENSINGTON BOOKS

      http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Contents

      PART I: THE MOMMY TRACK

      1 Almost Famous

      2 Cowboy Hats and Hemorrhoids

      3 Can Do!

      4 Tidings of Conflict and Joy

      5 Ch-Ch-Changes!

      6 We Wish You a Manic Christmas

      7 One Shrimp, Two Shrimp…

      8 Jack: A Very Merry Dysfunctional Christmas

      9 Flying with Children

      10 Into a Rockwell Painting

      11 Life Inventory

      12 The Secret Society of Mommyhood

      PART II: IF I’M A DOMESTIC GODDESS, WHERE’S THE GOD?

      13 Ms. Bliss

      14 Afternoon Shmooze

      15 Jack: The Guilts

      16 Puppy Love

      17 Fiction and Literature

      18 Karmic Boomerang

      19 Adapt or Die

      20 Open-toed Shoes at a Funeral?

      21 Crank Up the Muses

      22 Life with Daddy

      23 Eleventh Floor–Ladies’ Lingerie

      24 Bad-Weather Moment

      PART III: AFTER THE FALL

      25 Filling the Void

      26 Jack: Stepped On It

      27 Road Runner and Bambi

      28 My Posse Don’t Do Paparazzi

      29 Lolly!

      30 Stilettos Off

      31 Four Martinis and an Actor

      32 Girl Talk

      33 Jack: I Luv Dezi

      34 A Cinderella Tale

      35 Ask Salesperson for Mate

      36 Prodigal Dad

      37 Separations

      38 The Smart One

      PART IV: NEW AND IMPROVED MOMMIES

      39 Retail Therapy and Green M&Ms

      40 Bad Mommy! Bad!

      41 Aruba, Jamaica…

      42 Party Girls

      43 Presto! Baby!

      44 Girls’ Night In

      45 The Lady Is a Champ

      46 Jack: Redemption

      47 50 Ways to Heal Your Marriage

Part One

      1

      Almost Famous

      So far it had been an odd business lunch, as difficult to maneuver as my favorite Manolo Blahnik heels, the slender ones with the delicate ivy leaves trailing up the ankle straps—shoes of a goddess—which, I’d discovered this morning as I tried to put them on, now were adorned with miniature pine cones that had been glued to the toe strap. Undoubtedly the work of six-year-old Scout, who’d face her mother’s wrath just as soon as I got her home from school today.

      Forced to adopt Shoe Plan B, I dangled my boring black pumps under the table in one of New York’s four-star dining rooms, relieved to have my friend and agent Morgan O’Malley beside me to interpret the musings of the graying stuffed shirt who’d been beating around the bush throughout the meal. Morgan had warned me that Oscar Stollen, president of the most powerful romance publishing company in the world, liked to throw his weight around. I just hoped he was prepared to position that bulk beneath his cavernous suit into a book deal and offer me a big, fat brand-new contract.

      “Bring us a round of caramel machiatos,” Oscar ordered the white-jacketed waiter, then sat back in his thoughtful posture, index finger to square chin.

      I suspected that his insistence on ordering for everyone at the table was just the beginning of Oscar’s power trip. Oscar had been ordering for us since the waiter snapped a white linen napkin into my lap. I couldn’t remember what was in a caramel machiato, but then I’d used up my quota of questions during the lunch, daring to ask what was in the foie gras, what were pancetta, carbonara, gruyére—and what, remind me, was the difference between radicchio and arugula? Cocking an eyebrow at Morgan, I relaxed and settled in for a caramel mucky-mucky. Oscar was a windbag, but I was well aware of the silver lining here: I was being served free food, and so far no one had spilled a drink, asked me to cut their meat or initiated a snarling slap fight. Having been a single parent this last week with my husband out of town, I didn’t mind sucking up to Oscar in return for some culinary pampering.

      Morgan’s mouth curled in half a frown, her message: “I’m behaving for the moment, waiting on his offer.”

      His offer. If only it was that simple.

      If


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