She's All That (11 page)

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Authors: Kristin Billerbeck

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BOOK: She's All That
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“No, no children. Did Nate say something about kids?”

“He didn't tell you I want a bunch?” I look up dreamily. “Oh yeah, I was an only child, so I want about six, and just constant noise in the house. I want to be the neighborhood home where all the kids congregate, and other people's kids call me Mom J or whatever my last name is.”

Houston, we've lost contact.
Hallelujah! I believe the marriage discussion is officially over. We are officially unengaged.

I look up and, to my shock, see Morgan walk in with a man who must be twice her age. “Um, excuse me, will you?” I stand up.

“You know her?” Michael asks me.

“A little. She's an acquaintance.” An acquaintance who's one of my best friends, but we'll let that go as I'm not willing to share anything more with Michael.

Michael pulls a card out from his chest pocket. “Give her my card, will you? Tell her I'm available, and my divorce is final.” Michael begins to nod and rub his chin. “Morgan Malliard would definitely help my business prospects.”

Must…hurt…him.
“You know, I don't think I will do that.” I hand him back the card. “She's out for a meal, and she's not looking for companionship from what I understand. I've never known Morgan to be without a date.”

See, there really is no such thing as a free lunch. Or dinner.

I walk over to Morgan, and she has the oddest expression. Dumbfounded, perhaps. “Morgan?” I say.

She squires me away from the old man. “I'll be right there,” she says to her date, before looking at me as if I'm guilty of the ultimate betrayal. “What are you doing here?”

“Once in a while, they let me out for good behavior.” I giggle. “I'm on a date.” I wave a hand in the direction of Mr. Sloan.

Morgan looks over and asks, “Is that Robert's brother?”

“Just never mind. What are you doing here?”

“Just pretend you didn't see me, okay?”

“But Morgan, I—”

Morgan rushes off behind her “date,” and he pushes the chair in while she sits down. I'm standing alone in the middle of the restaurant now, and I can see faces staring. I march over to her table, but I can see by the look in her eye she's serious, so I back away slowly.

I lift my lapels and look at one of the women staring hard. “Couture,” I say, fingering the jacket.

I walk back to the tax attorney sheepishly.

“She's busy,” I explain.

“Okay, let's order.” Translation: “Let's get this over with.”
I couldn't agree more.

“I'm not really that hungry—just a soup and salad for me.”

“You really should put some meat on your bones if you want a man.”

“Thank you. I'll take that into consideration.”

“Seriously, a guy will think you've got anorexia and can't carry a baby. I assume most of the religious sorts are interested in that. Want you barefoot and pregnant and all that.”

I'm going to kill Nate, and then I'm going to find him a nice girl
who works for the IRS.

I drop my head in my hands, trying to regroup and praying silently that this date could just end. I knew better, I knew better, I knew better…

“Lilly?” Robert, my formerly beloved “white wall” is standing in front of me with Katrina on his arm.
This is why I have no friends. They're all in fancy restaurants I can't afford! And why
didn't Robert ever take me to a place like this?

“Robert,” I say, and I force myself to add, “Katrina.”

“Who's your friend?” Robert asks, and I look over. Michael has shoved an entire breadstick in his mouth, and what didn't fit he's now wearing on the front of his suit.

“Michael Sloan, this is Robert and his girlfriend, Katrina.”

“Pleasure,” Robert says as he thrusts out his hand.

Michael wipes his hand across his chest and reaches for Robert. I look over at Morgan, and she's got her hand in the old man's clutches.
What the heck?

“Lilly, it was good to see you,” Katrina says while yanking Robert away.

“Yeah, you too,” I say absently, still mystified by Morgan and her nameless geriatric.

The soup arrives, and I have to admit I've lost my appetite, but I'm going to consume every bite lest I get the anorexic sermon again. Although I evidently know a rather large proportion of the restaurant patrons here with me, I have never felt more alone. I shove another spoonful of soup in my mouth.
Nate, you are so gonna pay for this.

chapter 9

W
hen I get home, I slam the door hard. “Nate!” I scream, knowing he's there. I watch his popcorn fly since I've scared him, but now he's laughing. So is Kim as they sit in front of some fuzzy television show. “So you both think this is funny.”

“You dating Michael Moore's twin? Um, yeah, we think that's funny. It's like there's this endless parade of them waiting to date you.” Kim pops a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “For one thing, going out of here you looked like Shrek and his Q-tip.” She laughs. “I'm sorry, you just got your hair straightened. Shrek and his toothpick!”

“Are you trying to help, Kim? I thought you had a date.”

“Didn't work out,” she says cryptically.

“Nate, do you want to explain this?” I ask, tapping my toe. “Because Nate knows Michael's size has nothing to do with his downfall. I like teddy bear men. Grizzlies, not so much.”

“I know you'd be content to sit in this box every night, Lilly. I thought I'd do you a favor and move you forward. You waste so much time being too
above
dating. I figured you'd get that first nervous tension out of your system after Robert, and you'd be fine.” Nate shrugs. “Plus, if you could survive a date with Michael Sloan, you'd be ready!” Nate turns back to Kim. “The women at work just hate him. He was hired as a consultant, and the women scurry away like rats when he comes to the office. He's as abrasive as a scouring pad.” Nate and Kim are both cracking up.

“You
knew
that? Nate, how could you? I thought this was for Michael,” I say in all innocence. “You told me you thought he was looking to see what he did wrong with women?”

“Michael? Oh no, Michael doesn't do anything wrong. It's always the women. More than half of the American population has the problem, but not Michael. Michael's perfect.” Nate and Kim break into laughter again. “But you're such a sweetheart, Lilly. I knew if he couldn't make it with you for an evening, he might listen to reason. The women at my office thank you.”

“I cannot believe you let me go out into the night with that man!” I'm stunned. Nate does not have a mean streak in his body. At least I thought he didn't, but he's sitting on the Goodwill sofa cackling, like all the kids in seventh grade did.

“He's perfectly harmless. I'd never put you in danger, and I figured you'd eat well. Maybe bring us dessert as a thank you,” Nate says. “You didn't bring us dessert, did you?”

“Michael would have thought I was going home to eat it and throw it up. He's convinced I'm anorexic or bulimic. I heard about the benefits of nutrition all night! Ugh, I had indigestion before the meal started! That was my last mercy date, you understand?” I bend over to point my finger in Nate's chest. “I'm not desperate!” I cry urgently. I stand up straight, dropping my finger to the side. “Besides, I've got to concentrate on my business, not men. I've got to find capital, and that's my goal right now. Romance can wait.”

Don't I sound so strong? Romance can wait. As if I have a choice.

“Didn't you ask Michael for money? We figured you'd at least make the most of your time there,” Kim says. “You're so pathetic, Lilly. You just sort of expect the money to drop out of the sky because you need it.”

“Michael didn't really understand ball gowns as an investment opportunity. He had a little issue with women spending his money.”

“Don't they all,” Kim says.

Kim looks good. She's happy and glowing, and her coloring is back to normal. Nate definitely brings out the best in her. “Why do you two watch television down here when Nate has all the best equipment upstairs?”

“Nate's place stinks,” Kim says. “No offense, Nate. Lilly, you gotta finish Charley's new bed.”

“Charley can't help it,” Nate shrugs. “It's his ears.” He pauses. “The vet says he's not sure he'd survive an operation to fix them. I keep Lysol at the door. Do you want me to buy Vicks VapoRub for when you come over, Lilly?”

Yeah, he's not a nice guy at all.
I smile at him and see his espresso machine is still here. “Can I make one?” I ask, pointing at the gleaming machine.

“Be my guest,” Nate says. “I bought you fresh coffee today. Kim says I can't have my machine back. I can only come down here and visit it.” He laughs. “You'll be sorry if I wander down in my boxers for my morning java.”

“Oh, trust me,
you'll
be the sorry one,” Kim says. “By the way, Robert called right after you left. I told him you were on a date. He commented that you moved on quickly.”

“You're kidding! I
saw
him on my date. Did you tell him where I was?”

“I didn't know where you were, Lilly.”

It pains me to admit this. “He took her to Entrée,” I say sullenly. “I was only worth Lyon's or Denny's.”

Nate gets up and puts his arm around me. “You're worth Entrée in our book, Lilly.”

“What did he want?” I ask, knowing that hearing from an ex is never really a great omen. But hearing from Robert has me on edge, especially after he saw me tonight. Robert rarely called me when we were dating.

“Robert's thinking about getting married to Katrina. He wanted to talk to you about if you thought he should. He says he trusts your opinion.”

I set the coffee cup down with a bang. “I don't think I really feel like coffee after all.”

“You had quite an impact on Robert, Lilly. It's a bit flattering, don't you think? That he cares about your opinion?”

As I'm heading behind the screen, I look at her. “He could have asked me what I thought of Katrina when I was dating him. It would have saved him the phone call now.”

“It turns out
you
were the other woman while they were getting serious. He thought it was good not to put all his eggs in one basket so he wouldn't get hurt. You actually came
after
Katrina. He thought you should know that.”

“He told you this?” I never heard Robert that chatty in the three months that we dated.

Kim nods. “He called to find out if you were still angry with him, and asked me to tell you that he was really sorry for not telling you earlier about Katrina. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to commit to her. So he was testing things with you. He never meant to hurt you, and he sounded totally aboveboard.”

“Peachy. I'll give him my blessing if that's what he wants.” Now I'll admit, I wasn't exactly heartbroken when Robert moved on, but this does feel like knife-twisting, does it not? It isn't like we broke up last year! And here I see him with Katrina, while I'm sitting with Michael Sloan/Moore, the tax man trying to convince me I have an eating disorder.

“He wants more than a blessing, actually.”

Nate's at my side again, clutching my shoulders, but I yank away. “Stop that, Nate! Just out with it, Kim!”

“It's good news actually. Robert wants Katrina's gown custom-made and wants you to design it. He said she has big ankles, and you'd know how to cover them. I thought it'd be great because it would keep you designing, and he'd have to pay for the fabric and time. It would be your first paid gig.”

I shake my head. “Okay, bear with me here, but what fiancée would want the ‘other woman' ex-girlfriend designing her dress? Doesn't that sound the least bit odd to you? What if I have some psycho episode and tear the wedding dress at the last moment? Or put itching powder in the bodice?”

“He knows you wouldn't do that.”

My mouth is agape. “Right now, I don't know if I would do that or not.”

“It's probably best,” Kim says with the voice of authority. “When women catch themselves a man, something snaps. They believe every other woman wants him, and they were the only one to reel him in. Katrina's probably at home feeling for you all alone, without the love of precious Robert.” Kim brings her hands to her throat, speaking dramatically and then pretending to wipe a tear. “It was an unrequited love…because true love came along for Robert. And ultimately, true love cannot be denied. No matter who gets hurt in the process.”

“Are you done?” I ask, as I make my way back to the counter and try to stuff the coffee grounds in the machine. “Spare me the Shakespearean tragedy routine. He dumped me. He didn't even tell me he dumped me—that's the worst of it. I went over there looking for sympathy, only to get more garbage dumped on me. I didn't even have a chance to grieve because there she was: my competition. He so deserves off-the- rack when he gets married, and I hope she wears neon ankle-wrapped stilettos to show everyone her fat ankles. I hope his perfectionist tendencies focus on an unraveling thread in the middle of the ceremony.”

Nate is laughing. “You've got to be kidding us. Lilly, you guys went out to dinner maybe once a week. If that. Suddenly, he's your ex-boyfriend? I
so
do not get women. They call it commitment when it's over. Where's the reality here? The reality is that you could have cared less what he did, where he went. You're a hypocrite! I'm staying single for the rest of my life.”

“I think you should do the gown,” Kim perks up. “For one thing, it's money in the bank, and in case you haven't noticed, two unemployment checks are not going to pay our rent for long.”

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