BRIN
“So you went on a date with Mr. Sexy?” Maggie asks in disbelief as I slowly peel off the high heels that have tortured my feet all day.
She was gone when I got home last night, and she was still asleep when I left this morning.
“Well, only because Wren Prize realized he was way out of my league before I even got there. He probably googled me.”
She snorts out a laugh as I collapse to the chair, too tired to move. I hate new exhibits.
“Believe me, that can’t be the case. I’ve met his ex-wife. She was a moody bitch. One day she’d be incredibly sweet, and the next she’d be a total snob.”
With this crowd, it’s all about the total package usually. They want the shell to be just as pretty as what’s inside. I’m surprised he married someone that cheated on him with his brother, but I’m not surprised that she was a beauty queen.
I’m just... me. A little plain and certainly nothing extraordinary. I was never the girl that drew the men in, especially if there were any other girls around. Sterling Shore is frigging loaded with girls who look like they just stepped out of a Paul Colton fashion magazine. I married one of the three guys I dated in high school.
“But she had all the Sterling sparkle,” I sigh, glancing over to see a very tempting box of donuts.
I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. But they’re so far away, and my feet hurt so badly. And since when does Maggie buy donuts? She’s a health fanatic.
I start to ask when she says, “You can always get the Sterling sparkle, too.”
This time I’m the one to snort out a laugh. “And be someone I’m not? No thank you. I’d rather find a guy who likes the real me. Plastic surgery is so out of the question. Some girls are born to be beautiful and wear dresses like the one I borrowed from you, and some girls are like me. I like going out without a lot of makeup, or sexy hair, or high heels, or even anything special. That’s who I am. I wish I was like you, or Rain, or Tria, or Ash, but I’m not. I’m also fine with that.”
I once thought I found a guy who loved me the way I was. And then he decided he wanted a life full of the glamorous things. He didn’t cheat on me, but he sure as hell made me feel like an idiot for ever trusting him. I guess people change.
Donut. I need a donut.
Using more energy than I care to admit, I heave myself off the couch and wearily strut to the kitchen counter that is holding the tasty promise.
“When did you get these?” I ask, opening the box.
Oh, heaven has found me. Cream filled.
“Last night. Not too long after you left,” she says mildly. “Did you ever catch the monster spider?”
Stupid, big, scary spider.
“No, but at least I found out that it’s not poisonous. I looked it up. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I hadn’t.”
I pick up the first donut as I walk back to the chair, ready to unwind and eat the delicious morsel in my hand without any guilt.
“So was he good as a date?” she asks, sounding all too eager for details I don’t have.
“He was nice enough. We danced, drank, and enjoyed the fact that it’s a damn small world. But other than that, nothing special. He probably went after another girl that did have the sparkle after I left, but he was polite enough to pretend to be my date for the night. He’s apparently not as big of a dick as I thought,” I say, and then I bite down into the glazed heaven that—
I start gagging and coughing as something gross ruptures and coats my mouth. What disgusting hell is this?
Maggie starts laughing as I dive off the chair and rush to the sink, spitting out a glob of the white nastiness that is mingling with bile. Then I turn the sink on and put my mouth straight under the faucet, praying for a reprieve from the offensive substance.
Is that... mayonnaise?
Maggie’s cackles are only growing louder as I continue to rinse, spit, and repeat. Once most of the grossness is gone, I grab a banana from the bar and start chomping on it, praying it hurries and gets rid of the lingering taste before I vomit.
I glare at the traitor who is rolling off the couch, heaving for air as her body writhes from the riotous laughter.
“You did this?” I ask through another mouthful of banana.
“Of... course... not,” she says through her chuckles.