California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  “So, only looking,” she said, looking shell-shocked.

  “You’re pregnant, sis. No martial arts for you for a while.”

  “Right. I forgot.”

  Several more women came up and offered Finola the sympathetic half hug-air kiss. One acquaintance’s husband walked by, pausing only to hand her a business card without saying anything. When he’d moved on, she turned the card over. He’d handwritten Call me followed by a number.

  Zennie peered over her shoulder. “Am I imagining things, or is he offering you sex?”

  “I think he’s offering me sex.”

  “I had no idea your world was like this. No offense, but I’m not sure I like it.”

  “It was easier when I had Nigel.”

  “I could get you a really big stick. That might help.”

  Finola laughed. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You’re welcome. Do you know what the menu is? I’m dying for a meal without kale or yogurt.”

  “Healthy food getting to you?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Finola pointed to an auction. “That’s a brownie and cookie package delivered every quarter for a year. I’m going to buy you that and I don’t care what it costs.”

  Instead of laughing, Zennie stared at her with tear-filled eyes. “That is so sweet.” She hugged her. “You’re the best sister ever.”

  “And you’re easy,” Finola murmured. “Come on. Let’s get you another club soda. Later, you can get wild and have a ginger ale.”

  They headed for the bar. As they moved through the crowd, she realized that while she’d talked about Nigel a few minutes ago, she wasn’t missing him, not even as a buffer. Apparently she was getting used to being without him—something she wouldn’t have thought was possible a month ago. What she didn’t know was if emotionally moving on was good or bad. Or if it was simply inevitable.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Despite having worn flats to Finola’s fund-raiser, Zennie’s feet still hurt Sunday morning. While she was used to standing all day, she wasn’t used to doing it in ballet flats that pinched her toes. She was pretty sure that if she’d been wearing heels, she would be crippled for days. She thought about Finola’s four-inch stilettos and wondered how her sister did it.

  More than just the shoes, she thought as she went through her yoga stretching routine. The whole evening. The beautiful people really were different from the rest of the world. Some of Finola’s supposed friends had acted supportive, but a whole lot of them had been looking for an open wound they could exploit. It wasn’t Zennie’s idea of a good time.

  She’d just finished her video when her phone buzzed. She was surprised to see a text from C.J.

  It’s a beautiful day. Let’s go do something.

  Zennie considered the offer. She would love to spend time with C.J. They’d gotten along so well and since she and Gina weren’t speaking, she felt a little vulnerable in the friendship department. But she also couldn’t deal with one more disapproving person. While not telling C.J. about her “delicate condition” made the most sense, she found herself typing, First you should probably know I’m pregnant.

  C.J. didn’t answer for a couple of minutes. I was thinking we’d just hang out, but sure, be pregnant.

  That made Zennie laugh. Give me some time to take a shower and get dressed. Meet in an hour?

  Sounds great. C.J. named a restaurant that served brunch.

  Zennie got there at the same time as her friend. They hugged, then settled at a table. C.J. waited until Zennie had looked over the menu to say, “Pregnant? So the procedure was successful? I’m both impressed and shallow. No way I would do that for anyone. How’s the world taking it?”

  “My boss doesn’t know yet. My mother’s pissed but she’s coming around. My dad was also upset, but I’ve shamed him into loving me again. I’ve lost a couple of friends over it.”

  Zennie found herself fighting tears. “Honestly, being emotional is the worst of it. I’m not an emotional person.”

  C.J. smiled. “All evidence to the contrary?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I have a solution. Let’s go look at some open houses. There are a couple of cute condos that just came on the market. When I saw the listings I thought of you.”

  “You mean condos for sale?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Zennie stared at her. “I’m not ready to buy a place. By myself? I couldn’t possibly...” She forced herself to stop talking. Of course she could. In fact, she should!

  She grinned. “Yes, I’ll go look at condos with you. It will be fun. Just promise me we don’t have to talk about the baby.”

  “The baby is the last thing I want to talk about. We’ll lament LA traffic and groan over bad carpeting because there’s always bad carpeting in at least one.”

  Zennie smiled at her even as she had the oddest thought that Clark would enjoy looking at condos with her and C.J. She picked up her menu as a distraction, all the while telling herself that there was no reason Clark should be on her mind. They were done. Long done. Besides, if she were to fall for someone, it wouldn’t be him. Sure he’d been nice enough and interesting, but not for her. Clark, Schmark.

  “What?” C.J. asked.

  “I can’t wait for my hormones to calm down. My mom swears it will happen soon and when it does, I’m having a party.”

  * * *

  Ali was willing to admit it—she felt good. Better than good. She’d had the week off for her honeymoon and instead of feeling depressed and stupid, she’d spent the time figuring out her career and hanging with Daniel. She’d laughed with him, talked with him, made love with him and slept snuggled in his arms. Just as amazing, it turned out that keeping as busy as she’d been had meant eating less. Over the past couple of weeks, she’d noticed her clothes feeling a little looser. A quick step on the scale shocked her with the information that she’d lost ten pounds.

  On her first day back at work she was wearing cute dark-wash jeans she hadn’t fit in for maybe eight months and a chunky open-knit sweater over a tank top she’d almost forgotten she had. One of the upsides of moving—aside from her yummy roommate—was going through all her clothes and reminding herself of what she owned. Something she should do more often, she told herself as she drove to the warehouse.

  Losing a little weight had even inspired her to get up early and spend thirty minutes walking up and down the hills in Daniel’s neighborhood. She’d brought her lunch to work rather than going to the taco truck. Not that she would give up tacos forever, but a little protein on a salad every couple of days wouldn’t kill her and might keep the downward trend going.

  “I feel good,” she whispered to herself as she parked, and she was determined that feeling should last. She had a nine-thirty meeting with her boss and once that was done, she was going to focus on her job and her responsibilities.

  She got to her desk a few minutes early and plowed through her email. After printing out the weekly sales reports, she ran her inventory control program and collected the printouts before heading to see Paul.

  She knocked on his open office door right at nine thirty. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

  “Vacation agrees with you,” he said, motioning for her to come in and take a seat.

  She closed the door before sitting in the chair and setting a folder on his desk. “I enjoyed my vacation,” she admitted. “I thought I’d be upset about Glen, but I barely thought about him.”

  “I’m glad. He was never good enough for you. So, what can I do you for?”

  Ali felt the first flicker of uncertainty, then told herself to suck it up. She was prepared with all her information and arguments. If Paul didn’t think she was ready to take over his job, then that was good information to have. She would make her plans accordingly. Either way, she was going to make her case.
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br />   “I heard you’re retiring,” she began, looking directly at him. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m ready. The missus and I are going to buy a place in Arizona and hide out from our kids.”

  She smiled. “I happen to know you adore your kids and love your grandkids even more, so I know that’s not true.” She cleared her throat. “It’s taken you a while to find someone, which makes me wonder if the job is going to be more difficult to fill than anyone had considered. There might be a reason for that. I was disappointed not to be asked to interview for your job. I have the skills. I know how the warehouse functions, I’m good with the people and when you go on vacation, I’m the one who runs things.”

  Paul looked surprised. “I never thought you’d be interested, Ali. You don’t talk about getting ahead. For the past six months you’ve been all about your wedding. I thought you’d see the promotion as too much work.”

  His words hit her like a slap. Seeing herself from someone else’s point of view was instructive, but painful.

  She wanted to say that wasn’t true, that she hadn’t been all about the wedding, only she thought maybe he was right. Once Glen had proposed, she’d kind of floated through life, spending her time planning and dreaming and writing her new last name on random pieces of paper.

  “I don’t want to manage inventory for the rest of my life,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “I would like to be considered for the job. I’ve prepared information on what I’ve done to decrease theft and reduce shipping costs, along with the controls I’ve put in place for inventory.” She pushed the folder toward him.

  “Ali, I know what you’ve done for the company.”

  “Probably not all of it,” she said, keeping her tone light.

  “Good point. Thanks.” His expression was kind. “I really didn’t know you’d be interested. Now that I do, I’ll be in touch to set up an interview with me and the owner. We’d rather promote from within and I think you’ll be an excellent candidate.”

  “Thank you.”

  She spoke calmly, but on the inside she was cheering. They spoke for a few more minutes, then she returned to her desk where she forced herself to act completely normal. Dancing in place would be too hard to explain.

  At lunch she headed to the post office box she’d set up before moving out of her apartment. She collected a couple of circulars and her VISA bill, opening the latter when she was back in her car. She stared at the five-figure balance and felt all the blood rush from her head. How had it gone up from last time?

  Her hands shook as she studied the transactions. There were only two, and one was huge. The cake, she thought grimly. That had been a big hit, and the interest because she hadn’t been able to pay much more than the minimum amount. Even being able to use rent money to pay down the balance, it was going to take a year for her to work her way through this. Dammit, canceling the wedding wasn’t her fault and she shouldn’t have to pay for all of it.

  Without considering what was going to happen when she got there, she drove directly to Glen’s office. She had no idea if he was even in town or not, but she was going to take the chance. Assuming he was sitting at his stupid desk, being his stupid self, she was going to confront him once and for all.

  She stormed into the building and went directly to the third floor. Glen’s assistant, a mousy woman in her fifties, stared wide-eyed as Ali approached.

  Ali motioned to the half-open door. “He in?”

  The assistant nodded without trying to stop her from entering.

  “Good. This won’t take long.” Ali pushed open the door.

  The second she was face-to-face with her ex-fiancé, she realized she hadn’t seen Glen since before he dumped her. All their communication had been via text or over the phone. For a second she worried that being close to him after all this time would hurt her, that she would realize she missed him and that she was devastated by the loss. Only that didn’t happen.

  As she stared into his light brown eyes, she realized he was a much smaller version of his brother, and not just physically. While before she wouldn’t have cared that he was shorter, slighter and paler, now she found herself just a little smug that she was sleeping with the much better brother. But even more important than looks were temperament and character. Where Glen was demanding, Daniel was easygoing. Glen had a short temper while Daniel was patient. Glen was critical and his brother was a sweet, funny, kind man who made her feel like a princess.

  “Ali!” Glen’s eyes widened in alarm as he pushed up his glasses. “What are you doing here?”

  “Confronting you.”

  He reached for the phone on his desk. “If you’re going to get violent, I’m calling security.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Really? Violent? When has that ever happened?”

  “You’re a woman scorned.”

  That nearly made her laugh—then she remembered the credit card bill. She walked over to his desk and waved the envelope.

  “What I am is dealing with a lot of debt from the wedding. You proposed to me, Glen. You helped plan the wedding, then you walked away without bothering with your responsibilities. I’m willing to pay for half, but that’s all. I’m going to stand here until you write me a check for twelve thousand dollars.”

  He blanched. “I’m not going to do that and you can’t make me.”

  His voice was petulant. As she watched him, she tried to figure out what she’d ever seen in him. Had she really been so lonely and desperate that she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? The answer was obvious and embarrassing. Thank goodness he’d dumped her—what if he hadn’t? She might have married him.

  “Glen, be a human being and give me the money. You know it’s the right thing to do.”

  She waited. After a couple of seconds, he muttered, “I, ah, don’t have my checkbook with me.”

  She sighed. “You always have it in your briefcase, Glen. Come on. Don’t play this game with me.”

  He made a face, then reached under his desk for his briefcase. It only took him a second to write out the check and hand it to her.

  “What about the ring?” he asked as she tucked the piece of paper into her back pocket. “I want it back.”

  She smiled. “Funny you should mention that. You know what? Per the state of California, the ring is an implied conditional gift. Had I broken the engagement, you would certainly be entitled to the ring back, but as you ended things, it’s mine to keep.” She smiled. “And just in case you try to pretend things happened otherwise, let’s all remember you didn’t have the balls to break up with me yourself. You had your brother do it, so there’s a witness.”

  He stood and glared at her. “You’re different. I’m not sure I like it.”

  “Glen, what you like and don’t like about me is no longer my problem.” She offered him an insincere smile. “Thanks for the check. Have a nice day.”

  She walked out without saying anything else. When she got to her car, she was both elated and shaking. The combination was unsettling, but she was going to go with it.

  She opened her banking app and deposited the check. Once it cleared, she could pay off a good chunk of her credit card and get on with her life. Even better, in less than five hours her workday would be done. She would go home to Daniel and have some hot monkey sex to celebrate her newfound backbone.

  * * *

  When Zennie’s mother had said her boobs would hurt, Zennie had not understood the truth in the statement. They didn’t just hurt, they ached and burned and were uncomfortable enough that she wanted to whimper.

  “I thought we had a deal,” she said to herself as she got her things out of her locker and headed for her car. “I’ve always taken care of you. I eat right and exercise. I’m just pregnant, can’t you cooperate a little more?”

  Before her body could answer
—or not—she was close enough to her car to see something tucked under her windshield wipers. While she prayed it was a circular for a new car wash or even somebody leaving a note after denting her car, she knew her luck wasn’t that good. Not anymore.

  She unfolded the piece of paper and groaned when she recognized Bernie’s handwriting.

  Just a gentle reminder that you need to be taking your calcium every day. Oh, and I have a coupon for a couple’s massage. I thought maybe I could set up an appointment for the two of us. I could make yours a prenatal massage. Wouldn’t that be fun? Love you.

  She got in her car, dropped her backpack on the passenger seat, then leaned her forehead against her steering wheel.

  “I can’t do this,” she said aloud, not caring that talking to herself was becoming a thing. “I just can’t.”

  The changes to her body were hard enough, but dear God, Bernie was getting on her nerves.

  It wasn’t just the meal service or the very ugly and tight support hose she’d dropped by. It was the email reminders of her next doctor’s appointment and the little notes like the one left today, and texts about whatever Bernie had just read in the pregnancy books and understandable interest that a nicer person would like but that Zennie was finding overwhelming and intrusive.

  She reminded herself that Bernie was her best friend and of course she cared about the baby, but Zennie desperately needed a break. And a hug. And someone to listen to her whine. And the other kind of wine.

  She ignored the inevitable tears that were a daily part of life now and started the car’s engine. All she had to do was drive home and then she would be fine. She was always happy to head to her own place and decompress from a long day in surgery, but suddenly she felt less excited about, well, everything.

  It was just the note, she told herself. And the stupid food that was waiting for her, she thought with a sigh. Every dinner came with a healthy salad with dark green vegetables and lots of crunchy raw things and beans and a dressing that tasted like road tar. She was tired of plain white fish or plain chicken breasts and two servings of vegetables and unsweetened yogurt because she needed dairy but God forbid she have a little Brie and a hot fudge sundae.