"When the escort looks like Michael." Margo waved an impatient hand. "Oh, lighten up, Laura. It's only one evening out of your life, and why shouldn't you spend part of it with a good-looking man? God knows, you've been hiding out long enough."
"Hiding out." There was that hitch again. "Is that what you call it?"
"Don't." Regretting her choice of words, Margo put a hand on Laura's arm. "I just meant that you've been so focused on work and responsibility, you haven't let yourself have much fun. So have some. Ask him to dance, take a walk, whatever, before he and Byron bond like Siamese twins over engine talk."
"I don't want to dance, or take a walk with Michael," Laura said evenly. Now she felt pathetic. The homely younger sister, the neglected wallflower, the pitiable ex-wife. "And I'm relieved that he's found something to salvage his evening. He's been miserably bored."
"Then you haven't been doing your job, have you?" Irritated herself, Margo inclined her head. "It wouldn't hurt you to be friendly to the man, Laura. In fact, it would be good for you and everyone in close proximity to you if you had a nice hot bout of sex with him and popped your own frustration cork."
Laura's calm gray eyes turned to steel. "Oh, really? I hadn't realized that those in close proximity were so affected by my lifestyle."
"Hey." Recognizing the signs of a battle in progress, Kate sidled up. "Are we fighting?"
"Laura's peeved because we made her come here with Michael tonight."
"I like Mick." Kate chose an olive from her tiny plate and popped it into her mouth. "What's the problem?"
"I'm peeved," Laura returned, emphasizing the word, "because Margo apparently thinks I should jump into bed with him so that she and my other friends don't have to put up with my sexual frustration."
Kate glanced around to where Michael and Byron and Josh stood. "Couldn't hurt," she said with a shrug. "If I wasn't a happily married woman I'd consider it myself."
"That's nice for you, isn't it? For both of you happily married women. Christ, I hope I wasn't ever so smug." Training overcame temper just enough that she managed to walk away instead of stalking.
"Wrong buttons," Kate muttered. "We definitely pushed the wrong buttons."
"It's past time some of them were pushed." But Margo sighed before sipping her wine. "I don't mind making her angry, but I didn't mean to make her unhappy. I just hoped that she'd enjoy herself, let Michael entertain her. And eventually screw her brains out."
Kate chuckled. "You're a considerate friend, Margo. Hell, are we smug?"
"I'm afraid so."
A fe
w minutes in the ladies' lounge cooled Laura off. She sat on one of the dainty padded stools at the long, mirrored counter and meticulously reapplied her lipstick.
Was she frustrated? Was she becoming difficult to be around? She didn't like to think so. What she was was busy, focused, committed to her family and work.
What was so wrong with that? Then she sighed, propped her elbows on the counter, her head in the vee of her hands. No, it was she who had blown a simple evening out of proportion, she admitted. Because she hadn't had a simple evening in too long.
And because, she could admit privately, she didn't know how to behave with a man, especially one like Michael Fury.
She'd been seventeen when she fell in love with Peter. Eighteen when she married him. Her dating record beforehand had been brief and uncomplicated.
She'd been married for ten years and had indulged in no flirtations, much less affairs. The men she knew were relatives or old family friends. They were casual acquaintances, the husbands of women she knew, or business contacts.
She was thirty years old, she thought miserably, and she didn't know how to date. Even when it wasn't a bona fide date.
When the door to the lounge opened, she straightened quickly and took out her comb.
"Hi, Laura."
"Judy." Her smile warmed. Judy Prentice was a friend and a regular customer at Pretenses. "It's good to see you. You look wonderful."
"Holding my own." Always ready for a chat or a quick gossip, Judy sat down beside her. "Did you see Maddie Greene? She had a boob job last month."
She simply couldn't be overly dignified with Judy. "It was a little hard to miss, her with those twin soldiers."
"Well, watch yourself. I made the polite comment when she brought it up. I think I said something about them looking very perky." She grinned when Laura snorted. "Next thing I knew, she'd dragged me in here and stripped to the waist to show them off. Up close, my dear, and much too personal."