Page 72 of Unexpecting

″Thank you,” I told her sarcastically, which was, of course, lost on her.

″Oh, so he’s some sort of friend with benefits thing,” Lacey said knowingly. She winked at me lasciviously. “I’ve got a few of those tucked away myself. Of course, I’m not about to let one of them get me pregnant. But I thought you were going out with a gay guy?”

″I’m not dating anyone, actually,” I replied slowly.

″I didn’t say she was ‘dating’ him,” Brit hissed to Lacey. “I said she tried to get back together with him.” What? Why? Why is it my life that is being spread out in front of the table like some sort of tasty treat? I had no idea how to change the subject as younger sister Sierra picked up the interrogation.

″Did you know he was gay when you started having sex with him?” Definitely sex-obsessed.

″No,” I told her between gritted teeth. “And I wasn’t having sex with him. David and I went out a long time ago and recently bumped into each other again. That’s when he told me he’s gay.”

″He was gay when you went out with him?” Lacey asked, with her blue eyes as wide as they could be. I’m sure some women look sweet and innocent when they do the wide-eyed thing, but not Lacey. She looks feline, if hyenas can be feline. Nevertheless, I was wishing we hadn’t waited until Brit’s sisters got home to have this stupidstagette.

″Apparently, since most homosexuals are that way since birth.”

″But he was still in the closest? Or did he have a guy on the side?” Lacey persisted. I could clearly remember why I always went along with Brit’s torture of her sister. We used to dunk the heads of her Strawberry Shortcake dolls into Jell-o, so Strawberry would turn into Grape Girl. I wished I could dunk Lacey into something now.

″No. Yes. Isn’t it time for presents now?” I asked desperately. Lacey only laughed.

″It’s not my fault your life got really interesting. For years all I hear about is all these guys you’re going out with and now this. I have to say, all I wanted was to be you when I grew up, all the guys, all the partying. You’ve sort of been my inspiration. And Brit’s been keeping me posted, but in person is so much better. So dish. Who are you bringing to the wedding?”

I looked around, hoping to avert this discussion. I’m her inspiration? Sure, maybe I might have been considered a little wild in my twenties, but I’ve grown up now and don’t need the reminder. It’s been years since I considered myself a party girl, and there’s no way I was ever anything like Lacey! I wonder how… my eyes fixed on one of the wine bottles on the table. If I hit her over the head with an empty bottle, would Lacey stop talking?

I shifted uncomfortably (full bladder again) in my chair and made a motion toward the bottle.

Libby grabbed my wrist. “No,” she whispered, reading my mind in that scary sister way. “There’d be too much blood.”

I laughed out loud. “Can you believe it?” Lacey asked, thinking I’m laughing at another one of her stories. I’d hoped she’d given up on me. She was doing her best to claim the majority of the attention tonight, which resulted in a silent battle of wills between her and Brit. Forgetting about me for the moment, Lacey started regaling everyone with tales of the acting jobs she’d been on and the famous people she’d met. Frankly I don’t think drinks with Jared Leto is much to write home about (according to Us, who hasn’t he had drinks with?), but the others seemed enthralled. Of course, they’d had a lot more to drink than I had. Lacey was always a brat, but she’s become so self-absorbed and materialistic she makes Brit look caring and considerate.

Speaking of Brit, before dessert was served, Emma (who thankfully for her, was not our waitress tonight) poked her head into the private room and asked if everything was okay, and commented the chef would love tomeet the guest of honour. So then, in came the executive chef, Jonas, and his arrival shifted the attention from Lacey as the whole table (even Brit’s mom!) prepared to pay lip service to him.

I’d met Jonas a few times, and while unarguably he’s a kick-ass chef, he’s also an arrogant asshole. He truly believes he’s God’s gift to women, which from the reaction of Brit’s friends (even her mom!), he might well be. I’m embarrassed to admit I once found him attractive, and there’s a story about me and him in the freezer that Cooper loves to bring up when he really wants to embarrass me, but Jonas does nothing for me these days. Tonight, all of his charms are focused on Brit. Maybe she’s right. Maybe all men do find her irresistible. There’s a great deal of laughter and hair-flipping by her until Jonas reluctantly heads back into his kitchen, where no doubt, Coop is up to his elbows preparing food that Jonas gets credit for. Another reason I can’t stand him.

″Brit! You’re getting married in two weeks!” one of her friends admonished her after Jonas—with a last look at Brit that’s as hot as his entrées—leaves.

But Brit never got a chance to respond, since Lacey realized she’d lost her audience, and with impeccable timing, turned back to me. “So who are you bringing to the wedding, Casey?” She twirled the dregs of her red wine in front of my face, just to torment me, I’m sure. “What are you doing for sex? I mean, obviously, you’ve had some—” she pointed to my stomach, eliciting laughter from a few, “but who are you dating? You used to always have the hottest guys. But now…”

I instantly picked up on her assumption that no one—hot or otherwise—would prefer me now. And I couldn’t help but think she was right. Sure, I’m cute and bouncy when I’m not exhausted, but I can’t compare to Lacey. Here I am dressed in the same halter dress I wore to Coop’s party because my boobs seem to have grown overnight and most of the tops I would wear out are a little too tight around the bosom for my liking—and here is Lacey, dressed in this season’s hottest pants and a low-cut, sleeveless top displaying her golden shoulders and super-toned arms.

“I’m not into dating right now, so I’m not bringing anyone to the wedding.” I didn’t intend to, but I came across sounding like a bad case of sour grapes. I could tell Lacey thought so too because I saw her raise a perfectly waxed eyebrow at Morgan. I know she waxes her eyebrows because earlier, while we were waiting for the appetizers to arrive, she told the table how she waxes every part of her body, including her nether region.In fact, she went on to describe the almost pleasurable agony one receives from the Brazilian wax.

When I glanced back toward Lacey, I had this horrible thought that I was looking at myself. Or how I used to be. Even on my worst days, it was not possible for me to be the bitch that Lacey was capable of being, but the lifestyle she was living—that was the same lifestyle I was happy with not very long ago. Oh, sure, Lacey does it better with her designer duds and her Jared Leto lunches, but how she irresponsibly cavorts through life, the string of casual relationships, the drinking, the partying—that was me. That was all me.

If I was so condescending toward Lacey, did that mean I was demeaning my own life? Well, not now, since I have cleaned up in the last few years. But the way I was before?

Looking around the long table littered with sixteen women, with an average age of thirty-three, I was guessing all of them were either married or planned to be soon. Well, maybe not Lacey. It’d take a brave man to take her on. Libby was telling some story about Luke, and Brit was basking in the glow of being almost married. Everyone had someone. I’d never before felt the profound weight of being a single woman.

″Have you thought about throwing a paternity suit against the father?” one of Brit’s coworkers asked me suddenly. I was not sure if she’d just awakened or something, but the last thing I wanted was to discuss my life any longer.

″No,” I snapped. “Things are fine. J.B. is fine with everything—he even asked me to marry him.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to suck them back in.

The transformation of Brit was fascinating to watch. She was sitting across from me, so there was no way she didn’t hear me. Her eyes went huge, and she gasped loudly, almost like she was trying to inhale all of the available oxygen in the room. “Casey!” she exhaled. “You should be mortified that you are announcing your engagement at my party, but I’m just sohappppeeee!“she shrieked. ”Omygod!”

″Why didn’t you tell us?” Morgan gasped, clapping her hands with glee.

″Why didn’t you tell me?” Libby demanded.

″I said no,” I whispered, wishing I could sink under the table.

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