CHAPTERTWO
Ever wake up in the morning with your head pounding and believing if you move an inch you might barf. Good morning, Lanie.
No, not a good morning.
Her eyeballs ached. They throbbed behind her eyelids.
What the hell? She hadn’t been hungover since college—okay, her thirties. She didn’t do anything wrong. Of that, she had no doubt. She took an uber. Yep. She sure did. Her driver talked a lot. Too much. But seemed nice enough and didn’t conjure any scary scenarios.
She had wine. Good wine. Excellent wine. And… Gavin. Holy shit. Even with a ton of drink orders and a busy bar, he catered to her. He leaned over the counter and not only joked on but enlightened her about the patrons. She realized the more ridiculous stories he concocted, but even so, there were the tales that held truth.
A true gentleman and necessary savior, he delivered samples of hors d’oeuvres and brought her a small plate or two containing bitesize but extremely tasty morsels of main entrees. He ensured she ate while she drank.
Shuffling her ankles and knees under the sheet, she closed her eyes and recalled their fun and exciting banter. It conjured anticipation. An eagerness to see him again. An interest in talking with him. And a thrill in what could occur.
They were acquaintances. Friends. Nothing more. Never would be.
But… why not? And why should she feel guilty because of it. She didn’t need to worry about it. He behaved as a ‘friend’ would. He did have a co-worker tend the bar while he walked her outside and watched her safely into the uber. He did say he had a great time and would call her.
And her? She had to go and act like a desperate housewife. Well, ex-housewife. Or an ex-wife house. House ex-wife. Whatever. She usually spent her time alone and divorced and residing and living a boring existence in a once marital and family home.
She asked him to accompany her to Tom and Martha’s reception. The wine incited it. Now she had to figure out how to uninvite Gavin. Strangely though, he accepted her invitation with a huge, almost blinding smile and leaned into the backseat of the car to fasten her seatbelt. He even whispered, “I am truly honored. I can’t wait.”
Truly honored. That translated as a little over the top.
A super great guy. Super hot. Super sexy. Super fun. Super polite. Yep. Something had to be wrong with him. As if he had been waiting on her or something. Not. And now he thought he would accompany her to a sort-of major event with her friends and ex and his plus one as her plus one.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
No way in hell could it or would it take place.
But she liked him. As in she wanted to see him again. Hoped he wanted to see her again.
Her phone buzzed. She didn’t even know the time. Slapping the bunched-up comforter to her right, her hand contacted her cell. Flapping her arm, she clutched it and swung it in front of her face. Her head pounded making it difficult to focus on the screen. She squinted before closing one eye to read the text from Beverly.
“Just came through the gate. Be there in 5.”
Not today. Why today?Tossing the phone back on the bed, Lanie squeezed her eyes shut willing the darting jabs behind them to cease. Why did Beverly decide she needed to drop in? Not that it was anything unusual. She had always been one to do so. Even when Hunter lived at home. When David lived there. The drop-ins increased during the first few months after David moved out. But it’s not like the two women didn’t speak on the phone or share numerous texts the previous day.
Trying to swallow, Lanie gagged. Her mouth tasted like shit, and she doubted it had ever been as dry. As in there couldn’t possibly be a drop of saliva in it. She needed to get out of bed and greet Beverly appropriately, but she feared she might barf. Laying as still as possible, she swore to limit herself to only a max of three healthy glasses of wine in the future.
Beverly’s familiar and comforting call came from the foyer. “Honey I’m home.”
Had she dozed? Once, she considered the large, open, spacious home her perfect, dream house. When Hunter left for college, it lost a huge portion of that original allure. His absence left a hole in her heart and a void in the beautiful space. Within a year, David vacated too. Without their presences, not only physically, but with Hunter’s room emptied of his favorite, meaningful items, and artwork missing from the walls which David took along with his personal items—the space truly seemed unfulfilled. Sure, she could have hung other prints in place of the ones David took, but it wouldn’t be the same.
“Are you sick? Why are you still in bed? It’s nearly ten already,” Beverly fretted rushing inside the bedroom.
Lanie couldn’t, refused to open her eyes to engage her. She quietly moaned as she heard Beverly picking items up from the floor and straightening up. Yes, Lanie had kicked off her shoes and dropped her clothes the moment she entered her bedroom from seeing Gavin at whatever hour she returned home and crawled into her bed and under the covers.
Beverly persisted, “Are you hungover? I saw a wine glass and basically empty bottle of wine on the bar. And these shoes and dress… did you go out?”
Hearing movement at the end of the bed, Lanie assumed Beverly gathered the shoes and dress from the floor. Couldn’t they have this conversation tomorrow? Or later? Much later. Pulling the comforter over her face, Lanie groaned.
“And what is this? You mentioned you were at the mall yesterday, but you never said you were buying a racy garter belt. What the heck is going—”
Damn it! Lanie forgot she took the lingerie out of the bag and tissue paper and draped it over one of the sitting chairs in the window alcove. Flinging her arms upward and downward taking the cover with them, she glared at her friend. “I do have a slight hangover, ‘Mother’. I am a grown woman and happened to like the garter belt and…,” she stalled as somehow her salivary glands decided to whip into overdrive. “I truly feel like hell.”
Beverly’s eyes went wide, and she paled. Frantically, she lifted and waved her palms up and down. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She gently returned the garter belt to the back of the chair and insisted, “Be still. I am going to get ibuprofen, water, juice, toast. I’m such a horrible bitch friend. I’ll be right back.” She sprinted out of the room.