Page 78 of A Dead End Wedding

"Hey, Bobby Denaris was hot! Just because he only dated cheerleaders didn't mean I couldn't look. And can we quit rehashing high school, for God's sake? That was fifteen years ago!"

Max snapped her menu shut as the server approached, order pad out. "Patterns, D. We set our patterns at a young age. I'm just saying, as a friend, stay away from Jake Brody. The ones who make you rethink your policy on public sex are trouble."

"Why do I feel we're not talking about me and Brody anymore? When are you going to tell me what happened with Ryan? And hello—public sex?Euww."

She wouldn't meet my eye. "He was trouble, too. Another Brody. And I was a damn fool."

"Want me to beat him up for you?"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Like you said, it's not high school anymore."

We sat there, both depressed. I grabbed my margarita, took a deep breath, and drained it, then held up my empty glass. "Next!"

Max grinned at me and drained her glass, too. "Screw all this depressing stuff. Let's get eat-the-worm drunk on tequila and see if we can show these rednecks something on the dance floor."

My dancing is even worse than my singing, and my singing caused my music teacher in fifth grade to take early retirement. But what the heck. Another Stress Relief Special, and I'd be doing my MTV-wannabe on the dance floor.

We heard it before we saw it, which wasn't saying much, because I was seeing everything blurry by that point.

"You keep away from my man, you low-rent 'ho!" The shriek drilled through my fuzzy brain.

The crowd dancing around Max and me parted, and people rushed out of the way, giving me a pretty clear view of fourwomen facing off. Wait, two.Twoblurry women facing off. Stupid cactus margaritas had me seeing double.

One was nearly as round as she was tall, with bleached blond hair teased up in a hairdo that was trapped in the eighties. The other looked like a mean version of Angelina Jolie, all hair and huge dark eyes. They were both seriously pissed off, and the Angie one had a knife.

Shit.

The blonde started screaming. "I didn't go near your man, you psycho bitch. I don't even know who the hell your man is!"

The brunette dropped into a crouch and did a "come and get me" gesture with the knife. She'd watched way too many movies, or else she knew what she was doing, and Blondie was in trouble. Either way, I felt like I should do something. I started forward, and Max grabbed me by the sleeve. "What the hell are you doing? You're not a cop. You're going to get yourself stabbed."

I looked down at her with all the dignity I could muster. "I'm an ossifer of the court. I mean, anofficerof the court. It's my sworn duty to uphold the lawn. Er, thelaw." Okay, it wasn't alotof dignity, but it's all I had at the moment.

I feinted sideways and then twisted out from her grasp and slipped in between two guys who were placing bets on the fight. By the time I got to them, the brunette was questioning the species of the blonde's parents in a very creative way.

I held my hands up and tried to be the voice of reason. "Now, ladies, I'm sure you can work this out?—"

The blonde responded to reason by launching herself at the brunette, right through me. I tried to jump out of the way. Too late. She slammed right into my chest and knocked me on my ass. As I lay there on the ground, trying to catch my breath, I wondered if this reaction to my attempt to be the voice of reason meant I'd suck as a judge.

Then Blondie jumped up, stepping on my arm, and screamed at Knife Girl. "You bitch. I am so sick of your psycho crap. Are you the one who slashed my tires and wrotesluton my car? I'll kill you!"

I yelled and yanked my arm out from under her foot, which toppled her, and she went down again, this time taking Knife Girl with her. They both landed on me, slamming me back down to the floor. I couldn't see the knife, but Blondie started shrieking loud enough to wake a federal judge, so I figured she got stuck.

This wasn't going how I'd planned.

8

Ishoved at random body parts, trying to get them off me. It didn't help. Years (or long minutes) later, arms yanked at both of them and pulled them up. Finally able to breathe, I stayed there on the floor, hacking and coughing to try to re-inflate my lungs. It was way more comfortable without a couple of hundred pounds of screaming women on top of me.

Max looked down at me from where she stood next to the big guy who was holding Blondie by the scruff of the neck. "Are you all right,ossifer?" she drawled.

I hate it when she drawls.

I stuck my tongue out at her and mouthed the word "wimp."

She laughed and shook her head. The big guy handed the screaming blonde off to a bouncer.Oh, sure.Nowthere's a bouncer. Fat lot of good he was. I hope Mama Maria fires him.

"She cut me. The bitch stabbed me," the blonde shrieked, clutching her arm.

---