Fighting Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 2) (19 page)

     Angela called our attention to her, thus saving me from what was on its way to becoming a very unpleasant conversation.  I spent the next two hours paying rapt attention to the lecture and taking copious notes.  Delia just sat there, drumming her fingers on her desk, chin in her other hand, looking like she was daydreaming.  Mostly I ignored her.

     After class, she grabbed my arm.  “Hey, how would you like to go get a drink?  I want to tell you all about my evening last night.  I promise to give juicy details.”

     I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds.  I forced a smile.  “Thanks for the offer, Delia, but I was out pretty late last night.  I’m tired and I think I’ll just go home and go to bed.  Maybe some other time?”

     “Oh sure!  I’m sure I’ll have even more to tell you by next week!  She picked up her purse, gave me a little finger-wave, and dashed out the door. 

     It was about nine forty-five when my phone rang.  It was Justin.  I debated not picking up because I was still irritated about Delia.  I didn’t want him to know anything was wrong though, or even that I knew about it since he hadn’t been forthcoming to me in his message the night before.  I didn’t want to ignore him, though.  He was still my best friend, and as far as I knew, things between us hadn’t changed.

     “Hey there,” I said brightly when I answered.

     “Hey, yourself,” he said, chuckling.  “How are you doing?”

     “Everything is great.  I just got home from class and was about to get ready for bed.”

     “I’m sorry I didn’t make it last night,” he said, sounding like he truly meant it.

     “Oh, you just wanted to get out of my selection,” I teased.  “You knew I was going to make you watch a rom-com this week.”

     “I forgot all about that.  In that case, I’m not sorry.”  He laughed.  “I’m also sorry I forgot about Laurel coming in.  Which means I also forgot this weekend was your birthday.  I don’t know how it slipped my mind.  I already have your present and everything.  When does Laurel fly out?  I’d really like to take you out to dinner to celebrate the big three-oh.”

     “She leaves Sunday afternoon, but I already have plans for Sunday night.”

     He was quiet for a moment, then asked softly, “Are they with James?”

     James and I hadn’t actually agreed to spend Sunday night together, but I figured he’d spend the night on Saturday so he wouldn’t have to drive back to base in the middle of the night.  I didn’t want to lie to Justin, but I didn’t feel right seeing them both in the same day.  I didn’t know how to explain that to him, so I simply said, “Yes, they are.”

     “I suppose that’s what I get for letting it slip my mind and not asking sooner.  I’m really sorry, Peaches.  I’ve gotten all turned around this week.”

     I was sure he had.  “It’s fine, Justin.  You’ve been there for all the others.  We’ll celebrate next weekend or on Wednesday.  I’m going to get going now, though.  I’m tired, and I need to be at the airport to pick Laurel up at nine a.m.”

    “Oh.  I was hoping to at least get a little time to catch up with you, but I understand.  It is getting kind of late.  I hope you two have a great time.  Please tell her I said hello.”

     “I will.  Have a good night, Justin.”

     “Sweet dreams, Peaches,” he said, then broke our connection.

     I put the phone down feeling sad.  He had never forgotten my birthday from the time he found out when it was.  Granted, that was only four years ago.  Nevertheless, he usually teased me with the idea of his present for days leading up to it.  I’d go out of my mind trying to figure out what it could be from the little hints he’d give me.  He didn’t even do that at all this year.  If this was how I was going to feel if he saw other people, I contemplated rejecting the idea of there being more between us.  Maybe it wasn’t other people so much as it was the fact that Delia was supposed to be my friend.  This new relationship, or whatever it was, didn’t speak well for either of them.  Not knowing Delia well, I couldn’t exactly feel betrayed by her.  Justin, on the other hand, well that was shaping up to be a different story.

     Tired of thinking about it for the night, I gave up and got ready for bed. 

     I was waiting for Laurel outside baggage claim when her flight arrived at nine-fifteen a.m.  She came skittering through the area dressed in a flowery sundress reminiscent of the nineteen-fifties, red sling-back pumps, and carrying a wide-brimmed red hat.  She threw her arms around me in a great big hug, squealing like a little girl.  “Meeeeemster!!!!!!  I’m so happy to see you!” she exclaimed. 

     I laughed and hugged her back tightly.  “It’s fantastic to see you, too.”  I grabbed her hands and stepped back from her looking her over from head to toe.  “Who are you, Lucy Ricardo?”

     She giggled and hit me in the chest with her hat.  “I’m going retro these days.  Don’t you think it’s me what with my red hair and all?” she said, striking a pose.

     “Laurel, everything you do is very you.” I said, grinning.

     “It’s all I know how to be, sister.  Now, let’s find those bags and get on with the fun.”

     After we’d gotten home and gotten her settled in the guest bedroom, she changed into a much more comfortable outfit of flip-flops, shorts, and a hot pink t-shirt that said ‘I lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in’ on it.

     “So, what would you like to do first?” I asked.

     “This is your weekend, sweetheart.  You’re thirty tomorrow!  I have plans for us tonight, but for the day, we can do what you like.”

     “In that case, why don’t we go over to Venice?  I haven’t been there in ages.  We can do some shopping and grab lunch while we’re out.”

     “Oh goody!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down while clapping.  “We can go watch the body builders get sweaty at Muscle Beach.”

      “Naturally,” I replied.  “What do you think I meant by shopping?” I said with a wink.

      “I never have to wonder why we’re friends, Mimi.  You think just like me.” She laughed.

      We spent the rest of the morning strolling along the Venice Strand watching the colorful people (street performers, skateboarders, beach bums, and the like) and going in and out of the shops that lined the sidewalk.  Most of the items for sale were touristy stuff, but Laurel had a blast buying kitschy items for her work friends.  We eventually happened upon Muscle Beach, a well-known outdoor gym where serious body builders were known to work out.  We sat and watched for at least an hour making lewd comments to each other.

     After the sun and exertion began to take their toll, we decided it was time to head home and rest up for whatever Laurel had planned for the night.  She insisted I was going to need a lot of energy so a nap was advisable.  We arrived back at my place around four p.m.  She said we had time to sleep for about two hours, but we had to be ready to leave by seven-thirty.  She was very cryptic about our plans, but apparently we were getting dressed to the nines.

     I woke up just after six, feeling refreshed and a little bit hungry.  To my surprise, Laurel was already up and in the kitchen making herself a cup of coffee.  “I sure hope we’re going to dinner, because I’m starving,” I said.

     Laurel looked at me blankly.  “You know, I forgot all about eating.  We don’t have time to get anything to eat.  We’re going to see a show that starts at nine, but we have to be there by eight.”

     “You?  Forget about food?  In what dimension does that happen?” I asked sarcastically.

     “I know, right?  When you see what I have planned, you’ll understand why I forgot though.  Do you have any sandwich fixings or frozen dinners we can make in a hurry?”

      I proceeded to make us both simple bologna sandwiches.  They weren’t culinary masterpieces by any stretch of the imagination, but at least we wouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach.  If I knew Laurel, and I did, there would be plenty of cocktails awaiting us wherever we were going.  We wolfed down our food and hurried off to get ready for the night ahead.

     We met back in the living room at seven-fifteen.  Laurel was dressed in a stunning burnt orange, slinky mini-dress and sky-high gold sandals.  I wore a sparkly beige dress with a boat neck and blousy top, with the hemline hitting about mid-thigh.  My long hair was pressed straight and draped down my back, whereas Laurel’s hair was her usual riot of curls.  Neither one of us looked too bad, if you asked me.  If you asked her, we looked downright hot.  Laurel was never one lacking in confidence, however.

     We got into my car, and I looked at her.  “You’re finally going to have to tell me where we’re going you know.”

     She opened her evening bag, saying, “I have the address right here.”  She handed me a scrap of paper with an address in Hollywood.  I programmed it into my car’s GPS and off we went.

     We arrived at a nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard and parked in a paid lot just down the street.  As we walked down the street, Laurel was giggling to herself and practically bouncing out of her shoes.  She’d been to many nightclubs in her day, and while it was Hollywood, I sincerely doubted it could compete with the Manhattan clubs she was used to.

     “Alright, girlfriend.  Spill it.  What has you so excited?  Is Channing Tatum going to be here tonight or something?”

     “You’re not too far off!  We’re going to see The Hollywood Hunks!”

     “The strip show?” I gasped.

      “Yes!” she screamed.  “I have been dying to go to a strip show ever since I saw Magic Mike.”

      “You know the guys in these shows are all gay, right?  Straight men who are not famous don’t look like that,” I said.  “Hell, even the famous ones don’t look like that unless they’re either preparing for a role or actively filming.”

     “Mimi, don’t be such a downer.  We’re not going to marry these guys.  We’re going to admire them and maybe, just maybe, touch their sexy bodies.  Who cares if they like the cock or not?  I for one am not above pretending for an evening.”

     I laughed outright.  Of course Laurel wouldn’t care.  I supposed I could suspend my disbelief for the night as well, particularly if there was vodka involved.

     We got to the door and Laurel advised that she had reserved seating and wanted to purchase two specials packages.  I assumed it was for VIP seating.

     The club was enormous and already filled with avaricious-looking women.  We were shown to seats right near the stage, and then asked for our drink orders.  She ordered a Bloody Mary while I reverted to my usual Dirty Martini.  I’d decided I liked them, they worked for me, and while I may vary things from time to time, I would still stick with it as my go-to drink.

     We received our drinks and settled in to wait for the show that wouldn’t start for another     forty-five minutes or so.  Laurel took a sip of her drink and said, “So, tell me what’s going on with this new hunk of yours.”

     “Well, I told you his name is James and he’s a Navy pilot.  He is…different.  He can be obnoxious and drive me crazy, but he is also sexy as hell and really deep down a romantic kind of guy.  You’ll get to meet him tomorrow night.  He’s going to come out with us for my birthday.”

     “Are things starting to look serious?” she asked.

     “I am bound and determined not to get too serious too quickly.  I’m not totally closed off to the idea, mind you.  I am just taking each day as it comes.  Besides,” I paused for a moment.  “There’s someone else.”

     “Whaaaaat?” she screeched.  “You have not mentioned this during any of our calls.  Is this new?”

     “No, not exactly.  This sort of began the same day I met James.”

     Laurel looked at me with raised brows.  I was in trouble for not imparting this information earlier.  I’d be in even more trouble when she found out who I was talking about.

     “Let me explain.  It’s been hard to get my mind around this particular relationship because I’m good friends with the person.  I have been reluctant to talk about it because I’ve been so unsure about it.”

     “Oh my God,” she stuttered out.  “It’s him, isn’t it?  Studly McFuckerson--Vance’s friend?”

     “Well, he’s my friend too, but yes.  It’s Justin.  He kissed me as we were saying goodbye before I left on my trip to the lake, and since then, we’ve kind of been seeing each other in a different way.”

     “Mimi Ashcroft.  I cannot believe you are sleeping with two guys!  Finally, I’ve rubbed off on you!”

     “Oh hush, you.  You’re totally devoted to Pete and have been for years now.”

     “Well, in my fantasies, I’m fucking a lot of different guys.  Ryan Reynolds, Chris Hemsworth, that kid from Twilight.”

     “Robert Pattinson?” I asked, surprised.

     “No, no, of course not.  The other one, you know, with the abs for days.”

     “Ohhh yeah.  Him.” I said, thinking of Taylor Lautner’s rock-hard body.

     “Anyway, back to the studly biker.  Is he any good?”

     “Actually, I don’t know.  We haven’t gotten that far.  We’ve been going slowly, because I’ve been very clear that I don’t think I’m ready for something serious, and his intentions are very serious.” I told her soberly.