But no, she had seen the struggle, the awkwardness, and while Lucie’s physical self was disjointed and wonky because of her damaged hip, her persona was strong and clear and never wavering. No, Lucie remembered. And the damning judgment was still there in her eyes like a dagger. Would she unsheathe it? And, if so, how? Bianca felt the danger of the situation as if there was a physical blade, a rising tension tightening her whole being as she steeled herself for battle. Too much could be lost - her spotless reputation and the fabulous life, a delicately balanced house of cards it was to be admitted, she had built upon it - for her to fail here. She had to be victorious.
It’s funny, she’d actually been looking forward to this evening: not just for her chance to get at Grant’s wife, but also for a nice roll in the guaranteed male attention she’d receive at the bar, some time practicing her female-bonding skills, as well as finally meeting Chelsea’s work friend. She’d heard the name Lucie and thought it was Lucy, as in Ricardo and I Love. She imagined exactly such a silly little friend, stumbling around TMB with Chelsea. Anyone who was still working as an administrative assistant at their age was a massive loser as far as Bianca was concerned, and so this girl had to be a ditz, a dummy, a laughable fool. But Lucie Scott was none of those things, so why was she still an admin?
Well, not anymore, now she had her own catering business and what happy happy news that was! Oh, yes, in her hand was the answer to the Lucie problem in the form of a business card. She knew it. She just had to figure out what that answer was…there had to be a way…
The Adonis interrupted her reverie. “But, no. It wasn’t in Manhattan, was it? It was around here, I think?”
Oh, no, it wasn’t. It wasn’t anywhere. Okay, here it went: the whole quizzing business that went with the “I know you” line. Fine, let him try. This could be fun – a game of cat and mouse with a handsome boy. And nice little diversion while her subconscious worked away on a solution to Lucie and her non-sieve memory. “Me? Oh, I’m a pharmaceutical rep. For Mennon Pharmaceuticals.”
"Really? I've heard they have a lot of perks," he said, leaning down and smiling at her.
"Yes," she said, purposely making it hard for him.
"So? Have you gotten any of them? I've heard you get all-expense paid vacations to the islands, Rome, Spain. Sounds incredible."
She shrugged. "Yes. Very."
Seeing she wasn't biting, he changed tactics. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Sure."
"Great. What do you want? Champagne?"
"No. A mojito would be nice, though."
"Coming right up, beautiful. Oh, are you going to tell me your name?"
"Maybe."
"Ooo, I'm going to get it out of you. Be right back. And I do know you. From somewhere."
She just raised her eyebrows at him and then watched him grin at her and then turn to make his way toward the bar that was three-deep in bodies now, arms stretching and waving for the bartender's attention.
Bianca sighed and turned back to Sharon. "Sorry about that. I left you all by yourself."
Sharon shook her head, a wry smile playing on her lips. "No, I enjoyed myself. That was quite a show. I don't think you're rid of him yet."
Bianca laughed a little. She liked Sharon. She was a pleasant change from the usual bimbos Chelsea dragged out with her to prowl the bars of the area. "No. You're right. I don't think so either."
"Will the men be paying their respects all night?"
"Maybe."
"Definitely. Oh, here comes Chelsea. Only she could make me come to a place like this."
“Well, look at it as charity. You’re helping Lucie with her waitressing questions, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be. That was a long time ago,” Sharon said, shaking her head.
Chelsea finally reached them. “Got it! Now we just need your friend, Bianca, and we can sit. Hey, where’s Lucie?”
An idea sparked in Bianca’s mind and then flamed. “The bathroom, poor thing.”
Sharon looked at her with surprise. “I thought she was taking a call?”
Bianca shrugged slightly. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s sad.”
“What are you talking about?” Chelsea said.
Bianca looked at Chelsea. Her mouth was slightly open. Like a fish getting ready to bite a worm dangling from a hook. As usual. She believed everything Bianca said. If only everyone was so gullible, how much easier Bianca's life would be. She lowered her head and both women leaned in slightly. “I was so surprised, Chelsea. I didn’t realize that your friend was the same Lucie I used to know, from way back when I was still an admin. Remember Pinnacle?”
“Yes! That was such a cushy job.”
“Lucie worked there, too. And, well, she had a little problem. Actually, it was a big problem.”
“What?” Chelsea and Sharon asked in unison.
“Compulsive liar. Terrible. It was embarrassing the stuff she would make up; such obvious lies and she was always being caught in them. Does she still do it?”
“Really? Wow,” Chelsea said, straightening and looking off while thinking. She turned back to them. “She was fired from TMB. I wonder…”
“Oh, come on!” Sharon said, making a loud tsking sound and shaking her head dismissively. “Molly is a nightmare. She fires everyone who works for her. No one’s good enough. Hence the Inhumanity of her Resources.”
“Well…” Chelsea said, tilting her head back and forth.
Bianca said, “Listen. It may be a thing of the past. It’s just so hard to trust someone once you know.” She threw up her hands in a blameless gesture. “Anyway, it’s probably over. Please don’t mention it to her. I wouldn’t want to embarrass her.”
“Oh, no, of course not,” Chelsea said, her mouth still slightly gaping. But you could see her thinking.
Sharon looked less convinced, an eyebrow cocked, but it was Chelsea that mattered. Bianca smiled inwardly, her exterior face sympathetic, and said, “Good. Let’s just drop it.”
“Let’s,” Sharon said, narrowly observing her.
Bianca noticed. Uh-oh. Maybe the bimbos were better after all. Change the subject. Make it about Sharon, put her on the defensive. But in a playful aren't-we-having-fun way. “So, Sharon. You’re not going to tell us what happened before we got here, huh?”
Sharon’s eyes widened and she glanced down the bar quickly. “Oh, no. Not a fun subject.”
“I have a feeling there’s a man involved,” Bianca sang, smiling.
“Stop, please,” Sharon said.
“What? What!” Chelsea said and stamped her foot. “Sharon! I tell you everything!”
“Yeah, come on, Sharon. Spill,” Bianca said, gloating over the fact that Sharon’s calculating look was gone and replaced with a sweet girlish embarrassment that was turning her pink in the face.
Sharon glanced again down the bar and Bianca stretched her neck to follow her gaze. A tall lean dark-haired man was sitting at the other end of the bar looking at Sharon. He mouthed, “Please?”
“Ooo, is that him?” Bianca said.
Sharon slumped a little and turned back to them. “Yes.”
“A boyfriend?” Chelsea squealed.
“No. Not a chance,” Sharon said, her forehead wrinkling.
“Someone special. Someone asking ‘please’. Please what? What could it be?” Bianca prodded, enjoying herself immensely. So this was Sharon’s weakness. Good to know. Very good.
Sharon shook her head impatiently. "No, not special. More like annoying. My obnoxious-jerk neighbor."
"Really? Is he in love with you? What's with the long-distance begging he's doing down there?" Bianca said, amusement making her voice ring like a tinkling bell.
"No, he's not in love with me!" Sharon practically shouted and then startled, looking surprised at herself. She continued in a normal tone, "He's begging me to forgive him for being a jerk. Which I won't."
"What did he do? What did he do!" Chelsea said, eyes bugging out an
d leaning over to peek down the bar at the guy.
"He has these parties," Sharon said. "Late night, every night. Weekday nights until four in the morning. Oh, and he has a trampoline. So all night long, these drunken idiots are bouncing around and screaming while I'm trying to get some sleep."
"Oh wow," Bianca said. "That is bad. So you ended up talking about it - here?"
"Yeah, he tried to buy me a drink."
"Oh!" Chelsea said. "He likes you!"
"No. He was being polite," Sharon said in a warning voice.
"No, he likes you," Bianca said, nodding and grinning again. Look at her. Sharon was like a schoolgirl - that easily embarrassed and that transparent when it came to men. "And you might like him a little, too."
"What!" Sharon said. "Definitely not. Never. Not a chance in hell."
Bianca shrugged her shoulders and said in a sing-song voice, "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
"No, but-" Sharon sputtered.
Bianca felt a tap on her right shoulder and, steeling herself for round two of cat-and-mouse with the leering Adonis, turned to see Kate Palmer at her side instead, looking nervous, her pale lash-less eyes darting about. Now this was a mouse she was interested in. A little country mouse. Alone in the big scary city with only her new friend, Bianca, to guide her.
"There you are!" Bianca said and smiled warmly at Kate. "So glad you could make it. I was wondering."
"Sorry?" Kate said, eyes darting around at the heaving crowd around them. "I got lost? All these one-way streets got me mixed up. But here I am now?"
"Yes, here you are. And we're just about to sit down and eat. I know, I just said drinks, but sometimes we get dinner too. That's okay?"
"Oh? Sure? Okay?"
Bianca nodded. "Good." Wow, to this one everything was a question. In fact, Kate was all about questions - such as: why would Grant marry Kate? And what made Grant tick? And how would Kate help Bianca get Grant without knowing it? These were the questions and Bianca was sure she could get the answers, somehow.
She turned to Chelsea and Sharon, observing with satisfaction that Sharon's face was still pink and moist-looking, and said, "Chelsea, Sharon, this is my friend Kate. One of my doctors' wives. She's new in the area. Originally from Vermont."
"Friend? Oh, thanks!" Kate said and giggled.
"Nice to meet you," Chelsea said, smiling and nodding at Kate. "Okay, let's go sit down already. I'm starving. Where is Lucie?"
"Hi, Kate. Nice to meet you," Sharon said, looking almost sad, and turned to Chelsea. "I'll get Lucie and we'll meet you at the table. I have to go to the bathroom anyway." She pushed away into the crowd, her head wiggling a little as if she was swimming upstream.
Bianca noted that Sharon didn't look at her once during that exchange. So, she did like the jerk-neighbor and she didn't appreciate Bianca pointing it out, obviously resisting feeling that way. Well, if Sharon gave her any more trouble tonight, she'd go sic the tall goofy-looking neighbor on her. All Bianca had to do was give him a friendly little push, a hint that the interest was mutual - she could tell. She peered at him at the end of the bar and saw that he was craning his neck to see where Sharon was going. Yes, it would be easy.
She turned back and saw that Kate was watching Sharon’s exit as well. Kate said, “I’m so glad someone’s wearing jeans? I didn’t know this place was so dressy. In Vermont? The bars are really casual? Like this?” Kate pointed down at her pink lightweight sweater and jeans. “This would be dressy?”
“Come on,” Chelsea interrupted, scooping the air between them. “Let’s go.”
Bianca shrugged. “All right.”
They started to make their way to the hostess stand near the door when there was a shout behind them. Bianca looked over her shoulder. It was the Adonis. Holding her mojito and a beer aloft.
“Hey!” he shouted again after her. “Where are you going?”
She smiled and stopped, turning toward him and hearing Chelsea’s frustrated whine behind her, but not caring. Kate, who had been right behind Bianca and not expecting her to stop, stepped on her foot.
“Ow!”
“Oh? Sorry?” Kate said, looking terrified and putting her hands up in surrender.
Bianca narrowed her eyes at Kate for a second before resuming her friendly act. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” That’s right, surrender, you ugly little mouse. I’m going to win anyway, so why bother fighting it? Grant is mine. He just doesn’t know it yet.
“Really? I’m sorry?”
“No, it’s okay.”
The Adonis reached them. Either ignoring Kate or oblivious to her, he stepped in front of her. “Your drink. Don’t you want it?”
Bianca tilted her head. “Sure. I guess.” She took it from him. “Thanks.”
“So, what were we talking about? Oh, that’s right, your name.”
Kate sidled around him, clearly not grasping that she’d just been dissed. “Oh, her name is Bianca?”
“Bianca! What a beautiful name. But of course. I-“
Irritated with both him and the ultra-clueless Kate, Bianca lost her patience and cut him off. “We’re going to have dinner. Just us girls. Thanks for the drink, though.”
“What?”
“Bye,” Bianca said, turning and walking away, watching the crowd open up and feeling the many pairs of eyes tickling as they played over her. Ah, the spotlight. Where she belonged. Holding the glass containing the Adonis’s offering, she slinked down the aisle cut through the crowd by her power, savoring the heat and electric energy of the moment while Kate scampered after her.
Corona
Kate wanted to cover her ears. It was so loud in the bar, the cacophony an assault. And the glamour of the place, too, was aggressive. Shiny and sleek and too beautiful – those words could be applied to the bar as well as the people within it.
Bianca’s friend, Chelsea, was a buxom drop-dead bombshell of a blond decked out in a sexy shiny blouse and a short skirt with mile-high heels, sparkling hoop earrings peeking out on either side of her Barbie-doll face. She was definitely a blond that had more fun, as opposed to her, Kate, whose hair color was unremarkable even though it was nearly the same pale shade. It was amazing what glamour could do. And if she had been dazzled by Bianca back at the office, here at Ibiza Grant’s old schoolmate seemed to radiate something that made Kate feel both sick and zippy.
Thank goodness for the other friend, Sharon, an older woman who appeared to be in her late thirties. She looked like one of Kate’s friends from Vermont: normal, nice, and wearing jeans, praise-be. Kate watched Sharon heading off toward the bathroom through the pressing crowd and then turned back to Bianca.
“I’m so glad someone’s wearing jeans? I didn’t know this place was so dressy. In Vermont? The bars are really casual? Like this? This would be dressy?” Kate pointed down at what she thought would be perfect for a local bar, a nice sweater and new designer jeans she’d been excited about wearing for the first time. Instead, she and Sharon were the only ones in the bar not dressed up in fancy evening clothes.
“Come on,” Chelsea interrupted, scooping the air between them. “Let’s go.”
Kate started to follow the two women toward the front of the restaurant when Bianca suddenly stopped and turned around. Kate felt her foot land on something soft.
“Ow!”
Kate looked down and realized she’d just stepped on Bianca’s foot that was clad in the same red heeled pump from earlier, but now paired with a red dress instead of a red suit, “Oh? Sorry?” Kate said, looking up and seeing Bianca’s thunderous look. Kate put her hands up. Oh, no. She’d already made her new friend mad.
Bianca’s face was abruptly friendly again. “Oh, don’t worry about it."
“Really? I’m sorry?”
“No, it’s okay.”
Just then a man stepped between Kate and Bianca and started talking to Bianca. Kate, realizing he hadn’t seen her, stepped around him just in time to hear him asking what Bianca’s name was.<
br />
She piped up. “Oh, her name is Bianca?”
The man’s face brightened with a smile. “Bianca! What a beautiful name. But, of course. I-“
Bianca interrupted him, “We’re going to have dinner. Just us girls. Thanks for the drink, though.”
Kate saw that Bianca now held a glass filled with what looked like leaves. Where did that come from? Well, she just thanked the man, so he had given it to her. But Bianca was already walking away, still holding the drink. The man was watching her go, apparently in shock.
“Sorry?” Kate said to him and hurried to catch up, feeling stranger than ever.
Where she grew up, if you accepted a drink from a gentleman you sat with him and made conversation. It was the polite thing to do, the only thing to do other than refusing the drink. To take a drink from someone and then walk away - it was unheard of, rude. But Bianca was nice. No, obviously, that's the way things were done here. Kate would have to start taking notes. Fairfield County might as well be Botswana, it was such a foreign place. She caught herself feeling that old ache for home and stopped herself. This was where they wanted to be, where she had insisted they move so that their family could have a better life. She would make Connecticut her home, the Gold Coast as they aptly called it. She just had to get used to it, that was all. And here she was, already going out to exciting "hot" restaurants with new friends. And she was going to have her own car!
A stick-thin haughty gentleman wearing an all-black suit led them to a table near the front window, a large orange silk-upholstered banquette that put them on display to both passersby and the crowd in the bar. The table had a bouquet of white flowers on it and low votive candles flickered gently in a circle around the bouquet’s squat vase.
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