Angela rested a hand on her best friend’s forearm, her dark brown eyes filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Julia is worried about you, too, you know. When she visited me here a few days ago, she thought the same thing I did – that you were pining over some guy. Why won’t you talk to us about him, Lauren? I mean, if you can’t confide in your twin sister or your best friend, who can you talk to?”
Lauren waved a hand in stubborn dismissal. “I’m not pining over anyone, Angie. Pining is not my style, as you know. And there’s nothing wrong, I promise. Just some stuff I’m working through – on my own, okay?”
Angela glared. “How come you’re always butting into everyone else’s life, demanding answers and bossing us around, but when we try and do the same to you, it’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of you?”
Lauren grinned. “Because that’s what I do, Angie. I boss people around, give them lots of unsolicited advice, and make sure that they’re happy.”
“But who looks out for you, Lauren?” asked Angela sadly. “When will it be your turn to finally be happy? You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”
Lauren pasted a bright smile on her face, one she hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Hey, I’m always happy, you know that. No bad times allowed for Lauren McKinnon. As for all that happily ever after crap – it’s enough for me that you and Julia have found your true loves. Not everyone can live in a fairy tale world, Angie.”
“Lauren - ” Angela began to object until Lauren held up a hand to silence her.
“No more today, okay?” pleaded Lauren. “It’s bad enough I’ve got to fly back to New York tomorrow night, and that the last time I checked the weather report it was supposed to be something like a hundred and forty degrees with three hundred percent humidity. So instead of moping about how I haven’t found my Prince Charming yet, why don’t you help me strategize on how to challenge Courtney to a rematch of our drinking contest and kick her skinny ass this time?”
Chapter Nineteen
August – New York City
It had been, thought Lauren as she exited the elevator into the lobby of her office building, possibly one of the top ten shittiest days of her life, a day that had actually begun late last night. She’d been nursing a rare but nasty hangover after bar hopping the previous evening with Courtney and a few of her friends, and the flight from St. Louis to New York had been unusually turbulent due to scattered thunderstorms. The flight had also been more than an hour late getting in, and she’d had to really hustle in order to get to the office on time. And the whole time – during the roller coaster ride of a flight, the cab ride through wall to wall traffic from the airport, the mad dash from Maddy’s apartment here to the office – Lauren had asked herself why she continued to put herself through this torture. As much as she loved her job – the travel, the excitement, the once in a lifetime experiences – the downsides that came with it were starting to wear on her. Namely, all the trips to New York, the meetings that seemed to be lasting longer and occurring more frequently these days, the budget restrictions that kept getting tighter, and, well – Ben.
It was becoming more and more difficult, more heartbreaking, to see him so often and yet have him seem so far away. He’d been in something of a bad mood himself today, terse and withdrawn, and having very little to say. Karl, in fact, had been the only one of the crew to be in a good mood today, but he had also seemed distracted and out of sorts, small wonder considering he’d had to leave his pregnant, newly wedded wife for the next two and a half weeks. The crew was flying out in a few days to the Canadian Rockies, where the cool mountain air would be a blissful relief from the hot, muggy conditions here in Manhattan.
She’d been running so late this morning that she hadn’t dared take the time to change clothes, so she was still wearing the cropped cargo pants, tank top and flip flops she’d worn on the flight. She longed for a shower, her favorite jammies, a good stiff drink or two, greasy Chinese takeout, and an early night – in that exact order. Wisps of hair were sticking out of a braid that had passed the point of being simply messy six hours ago, and she was miserably aware of the smell of her own sweat. The very last thing she needed in this condition, especially after the really lousy day she’d already had, was to run into Elle Kimbrough. And especially when Ben’s poised, polished girlfriend looked as fresh and cool as a daisy, making Lauren feel as though she’d spent the day crawling on her belly through the jungle.
Elle was wearing a sleeveless sheath dress of pale taupe that not only flattered her skin tone but somehow didn’t have even the tiniest wrinkle. Her coordinating sling-back pumps had a sensible heel, while her black hair, as usual, was coiffed in a perfect French twist. She wore a plain gold watch that Lauren knew had still been hideously expensive, and a pair of dainty gold hoop earrings.
Lauren thought about pretending she didn’t see her, or simply giving her the briefest of waves as they passed, but cursed her bad luck – the bad luck that seemed to be getting worse as the day went on – as Elle quite intentionally approached her.
The two women had run into each other several times since Elle’s little hissy fit at the holiday party. Each time they had barely acknowledged the other, and had gone out of their way after an initial greeting to not speak again. So it was with mingled surprise and unease that Lauren stood and watched Elle walk towards her now.
“How are you, Lauren?” asked Elle in that snooty British accent Lauren hated. She really wasn’t sure why it bugged her so much. After all, Ian Gregson’s own accent was enough to make a grown woman swoon, and Lauren had been no exception. But Elle’s very upper crust tones seemed affected, exaggerated, as though she was flaunting her privileged upbringing, and Lauren almost cringed every time she spoke.
“I’ve had better days, actually,” drawled Lauren. “Jet lagged, hungry enough to eat a whole cow, and - ” she sniffed delicately at her armpits, “I really need a shower.”
Elle gave her one of those tight little smiles, the ones Lauren longed to slap off her face. “Yes, I can tell,” she replied with a faint air of disdain. “Did you just arrive in this morning?”
“Bright and early. Actually, more early than bright,” lamented Lauren. “And thank God the day is finally over. Time to head home and have dinner with my aunt.”
Elle gave a tiny sniff. “I still can’t quite believe that your aunt is the head buyer at Bergdorf’s.”
Lauren shrugged casually, well aware that Elle was getting in one of her not so subtle digs. “My sister is the one who inherited Maddy’s fashion sense, not me. And let’s face it – for the job I do, running around in couture isn’t exactly practical. Besides, as you’ll recall, I do clean up quite nicely when the occasion calls for it.”
Elle’s already ramrod stiff spine straightened a degree or two further at Lauren’s own not so subtle reminder of the gown she’d worn to the holiday party. “Well, don’t let me keep you then, Lauren. From either dinner with your aunt or your shower.”
Lauren straightened to her rather meagre height of five foot three, wishing she was wearing a pair of stiletto boots right now instead of rubber flip flops. “I take it you’re here to meet Ben?”
Elle nodded. “Yes. We’re having dinner with my parents and some of their friends. Sort of a bon voyage party for the four of us. I assume Ben has told all of you that we’re headed to Spain for two weeks?”
Lauren forced herself not to betray the way her heart sunk at this news. “He mentioned he was going on vacation but not where. Or with whom. So, Spain, huh? It sounds – hot at this time of year. Like at least a hundred degrees or so.”
Elle shrugged, as though such things weren’t even worth her consideration. “The villa we’ll be renting is air conditioned, and has a pool. The heat won’t be a concern.”