"Me?" he scoffed, giving me a hearty slap on the back. "If I were you, I'd worry about yourself."
For as long as I'd known him, he'd never been such a killjoy. "And why's that?"
He grimaced. "Because when it comes to women, a technicality isn't gonna fly."
Whathecalled a technicality,Icalled a nice surprise. "Nine days," I said again. "That's how long it's gonna take."
"For what?"
I smiled. "For me to say 'I told you so.'"
He didn't smile back. "Or formeto say it while you cry in your whiskey."
I wasn't worried.In my mind, I could already see it – the look on Maisie's face when I finally came clean.
Unless I was reading everything wrong – and IknewI wasn't – she and I wanted the same thing.
Or so I thought.
66
Prom Limos Don't Count
Maisie
At the card table, Darleen's little announcement hung in the air like a thunderclap in church. In my mind, I could still hear it.You'd be distracted, too, if you were dating a hot billionaire.
For a long moment, nobody said a thing, not even me, because I was still searching for the words to stop the gossip mill in mid-churn.
But then, things got seriously weird.
Franny cleared her throat, long and loud. Darleen blanched. The two of them shared a long, tense look. And even Beverly grew very still. In somebody's purse, a cell phone buzzed. Nobody moved to get it.
Suddenly, Darleen blurted out, "Just kidding!"
No one laughed, not even Darleen.
Carefully, I placed my remaining cards on the table, face down so nobody could see. Sweeping my gaze like a spotlight, I studied each woman in turn. None of them would meet my eyes. And then, all at once, they began rooting around in their purses as if they were sure the call had been for them.
With a look of triumph, Beverly yanked out her phone and said, "Sorry, I'd better take this." And with that, she stood and scurried out of the room.
It didn't even make sense. I mean, the phone wasn't buzzingnow.
When I looked to Darleen, she jumped to her feet and said, "Potty time." A split second later, she was rushing down the hall toward the bathroom.
This left only Franny, who for once, didn't look so eager to talk.
I gave her my hardest stare. "Alright, spill it."
She blinked with feigned innocence. "Spill what?"
"Lemme guess. You've been talking to Sierra."
She shifted in her seat. "Sierra who?"
"Oh, come on. You know exactly who I mean."
With a resigned sigh, she said, "Maybe a little."
