Page 15 of Hers for the Weekend

Tara cleared her throat and tried to avoid Holly’s eye so she wouldn’t laugh. “Do you, uh, want kids?” she asked before stuffing a whole duchess potato into her mouth. It was as golden and frilly as any of the B&B’s decorations and melted sensuously in her mouth. Debutantes definitely didn’t eat whatever this concoction was. It was probably a sin.

Yes today, Satan.

“Oh my God, no!” Holly exclaimed, sounding horrified. Tara had to think back to remember that she was talking about wanting children. “Why would I?!”

Then she peeked furtively at the adjacent parents, who were too caught up in trying to wrangle their children to hear her. “That sounds terrible. I like children in concept but I don’t ever want to live with any.”

“It doesn’t sound terrible to me. I also don’t want any, and while I’m aware that other people do, I have trouble understanding why. Eccentric auntie is fine with me.”

Holly laughed. “You’re the eccentric auntie?! What are the other aunties like?”

“Haha,” Tara drawled. “My sister thinks I’m basically a Riot grrrl, and if Cole ever has kids, they’ll be used to all the oddballs at Carrigan’s and I’ll be the unusual one.”

“Thanks for not thinking I’m an unfeeling monster for not wanting to be a mother,” Holly said wryly.

“It’s actually perfect that you don’t want kids. Miriam would never believe I was headed toward marriage with someone who did.”

Perfect for their charade, but less perfect for Tara’s resolve to remember that Holly was un-dateable. These moments of synchronicity were bad news for her daydreams.

“Right, because you never date anyone you wouldn’t marry.” Holly looked like she wanted to comment on this general life philosophy, but she bit her lip instead. “Well, if we’re supposed to be in love, should we practice?”

She reached over and placed her hand on Tara’s, stroking one finger down the back of her hand. All of the hair on Tara’s arms stood up. Holly ran a foot up the inside of Tara’s leg, along her tights. Tara sucked in a breath.

“I didn’t say we needed to be in love,” Tara corrected in a strained voice, “just that we needed to be seriously considering marriage.”

Holly trilled out a laugh, and this time the entirety of the other party looked over at her. She didn’t even notice, and Tara was once again captivated by Holly’s ability to let herself laugh out loud. “What’s the difference?” she asked.

Tara tried to shrug nonchalantly, although she was intensely self-conscious about being judged for this. The truth was, she and Miriam had been in an engagement of convenience, and she had no regrets about that. Miriam had realized she wanted to be in a love story, and eventually she and Tara would have been unhappy because of it. (If she hadn’t already been unhappy, because of the whole wings-clipping thing.)

Tara’s best-case scenario would be to find someone else who actually was interested in a business marriage. Preferably someone without an artistic temperament. But people tended to respond to that proposal with horror.

“I don’t enjoy being in love. It’s messy, and I need to be married, for my social standing,” she explained. “Hence, I would actually rather not be in love, if I’m getting married.”

“That’s wild,” Holly said, but her voice wasn’t censorious, and she hadn’t taken her hand off Tara’s. “I think I’ll play it like I’m desperately in love and trying to hide it from you. I’ll make moon eyes at you behind your back and sigh as you walk by.”

“I’m sure everyone will absolutely buy that and won’t at all wonder what a woman like you would be doing sighing after me,” Tara joked. Even if Holly wanted her, the idea that she might fall for a woman like Tara was hilarious. No one ever fell for her. There wasn’t anything to fall for, just ice walls to slip down.

“Hmm,” Holly said, watching her. “Why wouldn’t a woman like me sigh over you? Because I’m too low class to breathe your rarified air?”

She sounded like she was joking, but Tara sensed a sharpness underneath the words.

“Not at all. Because you’re vibrant and stunning and kind, and I’m an uptight bitchy lawyer with social anxiety?”

Holly’s body relaxed, but she cocked her head.

“How can you be both the rainbow sheep of your family and too boring for a girl to have a crush on you?” She laughed, shaking her head. It was sort of gratifying that she didn’t take it as a given that no one would ever have a crush on Tara. She probably hadn’t known Tara long enough.

“I can be too much for my family while also being not enough for everyone else,” Tara explained. “My family’s expectations of decorum are very high—I could be too much by being beige instead of ecru.”

Wow, that was way too much information. She pushed her wineglass away. “Sorry. You didn’t ask for me to dump that on you.”

“I literally did ask, Tara,” Holly said, squeezing her hand. “You don’t have to apologize.”

She had to change the subject. Or eat more potatoes. She could not keep talking about herself. “I think it’s time I asked you some questions. You know about me, but I still need to be able to convincingly fake that we’re serious.”

“I told you I’m an open book,” Holly said, spreading her hands. “Shoot.”

There was that open book line again. It was a good tactic, saying a lie so many times that people started to believe it. It had worked wonders for George W. Bush. Holly had a sly way of deflecting attention away from deeper interrogation. To get answers, Tara would have to ask something that would catch Holly off-guard. “What are you afraid of?”

---