“Oh, Susan!” Mona gasped. Our eyes met. Tears welled in hers; dollar signs in mine. And then, after a moment of gazing into the three-way mirror, I decided I simply didn’t care anymore.
“Clearly, this dress is too large for your petite frame,” Marion said.
“Clearly. Bring in the next size down.” Mona cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes. “Please.”
“That’s quite impossible, I’m afraid. We’re only permitted one sample per store.” She quickly took my measurements. “Sposa couture must be custom-ordered from Italy. What you’re currently wearing amounts to an Italian size thirty-four. It appears you’ll need something closer to a thirty-two.”
“Make it so,” I ordered.
After filling out the paperwork and plopping down a painfully hefty deposit, I turned to Mona. “Drinks. Lots of drinks.”
“Sounds good to me.”
♥
In her one and only visit to Philly, Mona had not darkened the doors of the Blue Papaya.
“Wow, this is fancy.”
We waded into the well-dressed sea of INTech employees, the blue neon lighting around the counter’s lip casting a strange glow to her skin and coloring her eyes purple.
“Two cosmos,” I told the bartender.
In mere seconds, I pressed an expertly-made, designer drink into Mona’s hands. “Taste this.”
After a tentative sip, her eyes flared. “Oh my.”
“I know, right? Beats a Budweiser any day of the week.”
“This place is so different from the Frog,” she yelled over the throbbing electric beat.
“It’s my favorite bar in the world—well, my second favorite.”
Lustful eyes caressed us as we meandered through the crowd, though I’m certain she was completely oblivious.
“Susan!” Jeremy shouted, waving us over. His other arm, I noticed, was wrapped tightly around Liza Min’s tiny waist. She glanced at me warily.
“Liza!” I said. “Great seeing you.” I didn’t think she was quite ready for a hug from me, so I patted her arm and smiled as warmly as I possibly could. “This is North Carolina’s District Acquisitions Supervisor, and my very dear friend, Mona Skarren.”
Jeremy was quickly heading towards the toasted side, and thus, tried to give her a hug while dragging Liza along for the ride. She did not look particularly pleased. Honestly, neither did Mona.
“Dear friend, huh?” I felt the sweltering heat of evil incarnate behind me.
“Best friend, actually.”
“I’ve been replaced? I’m so hurt,” Kirsten said snidely. I glared up at her towering form as she stepped around me. “Mona, is it?” Mona nodded anxiously. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She reached out her hand, and Mona politely shook it, all the while staring in disbelief.
“I have holy water in my purse,” I whispered. Then I turned to Kirsten. “What do you want?”
“Susan, I so love it when you’re here. Tuesday’s presentation was so…mediocre. Gregory thought so, anyway.”
“Come again?”
“Gregory Foster? We’ve recently become quite close. You know, any enemy of yours is a friend of mine. Ta!” She turned on her heels and slithered away. I was overcome by a sudden wave of nausea.
“Jeremy, when you’re sober, I’ll need the lowdown on Greg Foster.”
“Ooh…bad news,” he replied exuberantly.
“Lovely.” Turning to Liza, I rolled my eyes. “You might consider getting him back to your hotel room soon. Take care!”
“What was Kirsten goin’ on about earlier,” Mona asked as I flopped on my bed, the ceiling slightly spinning.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay, but who’s Gregory Foster?”
“The DM of Massachusetts. I may have insulted him the other day by accident. I’ll deal with it.”
“That woman downright scares me.”
“I’d worry about you if she didn’t.”
7
Future Felony
Thursday ended on a note of hilarity as Kirsten failed yet again to maneuver a transfer. I hailed a cab and spouted the address of Vincenzo’s. Mona needed a dose of good food, and I a good dose of wine. As we sat at the bar nursing drinks, I heard a far too charming laugh, followed immediately by an innocent giggle. I whipped my head around only to find my ex-demon sitting with what amounted to a minor.
“I may vomit,” I groaned.
Mona had no idea who I was cursing this time until he possessively squeezed my shoulders. “Susan. Gorgeous as always.”
“I’m engaged. Go away.”
“Who is this lovely woman?”
“She’s married. Go. Away.”
He picked up Mona’s hand. “I’m Ryan Vittorio, and you are?”
“Mona Skarren. Nice to, um, meet you.” Her eyes bugged as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Dammit, Ryan,” I huffed. “Now she needs more hand sanitizer.”
“Baby, I should have married you when I had the chance,” he purred. “Later.”
“Much.”
Ryan wandered back to his future felony, and I downed the rest of my martini in one scalding swallow. The hostess signaled that our table was ready, and we followed her into the intimate dining room. Our bread arrived along with an exceptional bottle of wine that I had not ordered. Before I could question the steward, he said, “From the gentleman at the bar.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Has it been poisoned?” His raised a brow in surprise. After a sniff and a small taste, I said, “It’s excellent. Thanks.”
I turned to salute Ryan, but he was gone. I shrugged and then tapped my glass against Mona’s. “To surviving your first real Quarterlies.”
“To never comin’ back again!”
“Oh, it hasn’t been that bad.”
“The pace is awful. I can barely keep up.”
“I honestly miss it at times. This is how I lived my twenties.” It surprised me to realize I would be living my thirties quite differently. And interestingly, I wasn’t convinced that that was such a wonderful thing. I internally sighed. “Okay, moving on to pressing matters: bridesmaid’s dresses. That one boutique had a very nice selection. Do you want to start there or go back to Saks first?”
“I liked the boutique. It was cozy.”
“Alright, breakfast, hair salon, and then the boutique.”
“That sounds great.” She smiled brightly, but then her expression darkened.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re welcome,” a Komodo dragon hissed in my ear.
I set my glass down so hard, red droplets splashed onto the white linen tablecloth. “You have got to be kidding.” He pointed to the seat nearest me, and the young girl sat obediently. He then positioned himself across from her so that I was forced to look at him. “How much did you have to tip the hostess to get this table?”
“Enough,” he replied with an amused smirk.
“I’m having a dinner meeting over here, Ryan.”
“As am I.”
Mona fought a smile. “Maybe Quarterlies are more interestin’ than I thought.”
“Are you from South Carolina, too?” Ryan suddenly interjected.
“I’m from North Carolina.”
“Your accent is intoxicating,” he silkily mocked. I scowled at him.
Immediately blushing, she turned to him and replied with manners I would never possess, “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”
“Don’t talk to him,” I warned.
The waiter appeared, effectively shutting Ryan out of our bubble. After a long line of questioning, we made our selections. He then turned to Ryan’s table for drink orders. That’s when I noticed the fifty-dollar bill change hands. Within moments, two restaurant staff appeared. Ryan stood, as did his date, and the men picked up the table and placed it flush against ours.
“What the hell?! This is absolutely unacceptable. I want to see the manager.”
“B
ut the gentleman said—”
“I don’t’ care what the ‘gentleman’ said. He’s not welcome at our table.”
The man looked to Ryan in question, and true to form, he simply whipped out another large bill and laid it on the table. “It’s fine.”
Rendered speechless, all I could do was gawk at Ryan. The staff quickly disappeared, and we were left awkwardly staring at one another: Ryan grinning, his date pouting, Mona hiding a smile, and me steaming like a lobster.
I suddenly turned to the young blonde now pressed against me. “Does this not bother you?”
“Um.” Ryan shot her a cautionary look. “No, it’s fine,” she replied quietly. She then dropped her eyes to the table.
Feeling a great wave of pity for her, I whispered, “Be careful with him. He’s more dangerous than you realize.” Her eyes widened for a moment, but then she regained her demure composure.
“So, what were we talking about?” Ryan asked with a large smile.
“We weren’t.”
“The last time we were alone in your hotel room…it didn’t end quite the way I’d hoped.”
My smile was unstoppable. “It ended exactly the way I’d hoped. Down to the very last detail. What were your parting words again? Oh yes, I remember. You didn’t have any.”
Ryan noticed Mona’s shocked expression and seized upon it. “Baby, that was only a few short months ago. I can still taste your lips. We could meet later tonight. My place?”
Mona looked from me to him and back, her jaw grazing the table. I shook my head. “It was nearly a year ago, and trust me, nothing of any relevance happened.”
“Hmm, the fiancé doesn’t know about our little tryst, does he?”
“The fiancé knows all about you. And he’d love to meet you in a dark alley at your earliest convenience.”
Ryan’s laughter dribbled from his lips like melting butter. “That would be fun. Speaking of dark places, why not bring the lovely Mona along. Baby, you know there’s room in my bed for three.”
I turned again to the girl. “Does he call you ‘baby’, too?”
“Baby, don’t answer,” Ryan advised.
“I’m confused, Ryan. Which ‘baby’ are you talking to?”
His lips turned up in a wicked smile. “Susan, do you remember that scarf we used to play with?”
“Ryan,” I warned.
“Do you still think of me when you wear it?”
“I might, had I not incinerated it along with everything else you’d ever given me. I have noticed Kirsten still wears the red blouse.” Then I turned to the girl. “You see, at his advanced age, Ryan’s memory often fails him, and he ends up giving all the women he’s sleeping with the very same gift. That, or gets a volume discount.” I took another sip of delicious wine and looked at my former lover. I was confident that, at this point in his life, he was never going to change, and I felt sorry for him in a strange way.
Our entrées arrived, and I shoved a forkful of salmon in my mouth to avoid further conversation. Mona did likewise, and we chewed and swallowed and ignored Ryan altogether until he finally began to actually interact with his date.
“You don’t really want dessert, do you?” I asked as our plates were cleared.
Ryan, joyfully massacring his baby cow, stopped mid-bite. “Baby, you must stay for dessert. You love the tiramisu here if I’m not mistaken.”
I slapped my hands on the table. “Holy hell, Ryan Vittorio, you just remembered an accurate personal detail about me. I’m in shock.”
“Baby, I remember everything about you. The way you smell, the way you taste.”
“Enough, Ryan. You’re being vile.” I looked at Mona. “Are you ready?”
“Uh huh.”
Mona suddenly gasped and turned absolutely white. From her violated expression, I knew immediately what he’d done. She hopped up from the table, grabbed her glass, and splashed the contents in his face. “You are not a nice man!” she stammered before marching off.
“Ryan, sweetie,” I scolded. “You must learn to keep your hands to yourself. And while my fiancé has a fantastic left hook, her husband has the scariest knife I’ve ever seen and the military training to use it properly.” I blew him a kiss and followed Mona out.
After pouring three rum and cokes down her throat and feeding her all the chocolate in our restocked mini-fridge, I was able to talk Mona off the ledge with the promise that Pete and I would handle the epic hailstorm that would be Jimbo when he found out. If we had to park Mrytle on his chest to keep him from coming up here and skinning Ryan alive, we’d do it.
I left her passed out in the fetal position and locked myself in the bathroom. After turning on the faucet to dampen the sound, I forewarned Pete.
♥
I had been looking forward to taking Mona to the end of week reception after another glorious day of shopping. There were so many people I wanted her to meet, so many with whom she should network. Instead, I contacted Jayne and had her change our flight to the earliest available. As the sun rose, we said goodbye to Philadelphia from twenty-thousand feet.
Early that same evening, I met Jimbo at the bar. I knew Pete had already talked to him, and that he’d imploded. And by now, poor Mona had surely confessed her non-sin. It was my turn.
“Jimbo.”
“Susan,” he grunted.
“May I speak with you out back?” He turned immediately, and I followed him through the employees only door and out the delivery entrance. The pungent aroma of rotting fruit and soured beer wafting from the dumpster nearly made me gag.
Jimbo turned on me. “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
“I’m onboard with your plan. In fact, I’ll be happy to give you his address. I just need you to wrap your mind around two things first. One, Mona did absolutely nothing wrong. She did not lead him on in any imaginable way; in fact, she barely even spoke to him. The only reason he touched her at all was to piss me off.” Jimbo narrowed his eyes accusingly. “Two, though he’s duly deserving of a full measure of your wrath, he’s rich, arrogant, and sleazy as hell, which means he can afford really good lawyers.”
“I don’t give a shit about that.”
“I know you don’t. But Mona does. See, she just married the only man in the world she’s ever loved, and it would be a travesty if the only time she got to see that man was during visiting hours at a Pennsylvania penitentiary.”
He spat on the ground and cursed under his breath. After several long minutes, consumed with what appeared to be a fierce argument between his conscience, his love for Mona, and the righteous indignation of an obscenely protective husband, he pegged me with a cold, crystalline look. “I’ll think about what you said, and I’m not makin’ any promises, but either way, I don’t want her ever goin’ up there again. You understand?”
I nodded gravely. “Completely.”
8
Star of Wonder
There are things—little things—that you don’t know about a person until you start living with them. Things, such as…your roomie is a hell of a lot neater than you are; or that he prefers reading in bed rather than watching TV; or, if you’re really lucky like me, you discover your future spouse is a friggin’ Christmas freak! This little detail revealed itself to me one fine evening, midway across the Atlantic Beach Bridge. Over the last week, I’d enjoyed the sight of Christmas lights twinkling from several homes on the water. Their reflections mirrored a certain holiday beauty. Then, on that fated night, my eyes latched onto what I could only describe as… Okay, I still have no words.
“What have you done?”
The entire house, from the mailbox to the end of the friggin’ dock, was outlined in blinking neon. And the giant star mounted on top of the lighthouse? Don’t even get me started.
“Ya love it, right?” Pete said, opening my car door.
“Love it? You can see our house from flippin’ Jupiter!”
His grin was nearly as b
rilliant as Rudolph’s blinking nose. “Ya think so?”
I gawked at the giant lighted balls dangling from the palm tree, and then back at him. “Who are you—Father Christmas?”
“I like the way you’re thinking, Susie-Q. If I start now, I bet I could grow a big ol’ beard by next December.”
“I, I…I can’t even talk to you right now!” I turned, stormed into the house, and slammed the door. Then I stormed right back out again. “And where did all this damned mistletoe come from?”
“I shot it out of a tree with Jimbo’s shotgun.” At my horrified expression, he grinned hugely. “Pucker up, sweetheart.”
♥
“What are you gettin’ your mamma for Christmas?” Mona asked at lunch the next day. Though fully aware of Pete’s holiday fetish, she’d somehow neglected to warn me.
“And mistletoe’s poisonous, anyway.” I hadn’t finished my rant. “I may make a brew from the berries and slip it in his coffee. Death by Christmas. See how he likes that,” I muttered.
“Well, I thought it was real sweet of Jimbo to bring some home. He hung it right over our bedroom door. He’s so romantic.” I raised my eyebrows and stared at her, unblinking. “Well, he is!” she said. “I mean, Pete is, too, of course.”
“Pete’s a freak.”
“Well, what’d you get your mamma?”
“A bunch of crocheting crap. That’s all she wants. Oh, and a gift certificate to a bed and breakfast off the Blue Ridge Parkway. I thought she and Gary might like that.”
My mother’s gentleman friend hadn’t proposed, and I hoped he wouldn’t, but my mom had never seemed happier, and that pleased me more than I thought possible. She deserved love more than anyone in this world ever had. “I mailed it today.”
Mona gaped at me. “You’re not going to see her for Christmas!”
“No, we’re staying here.” I was looking forward to some serious alone time with Pete—time where we didn’t have to go to work, time when we could sleep in until noon and then make love the rest of the day. Now, that was my idea of the perfect Christmas. “Besides, I’m sure she’d rather see you than me.” Mona was basically her second daughter—her favorite daughter by far, I might add. They talked on the phone more than we did. In fact, I still wasn’t sure Mona wasn’t Mom’s secret lovechild.
Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3) Page 8