Page 1 of Love & Other Disasters

One

Violet Murphy weaved around the slow moving vehicles in Nashville traffic. After leaving the office a few minutes late, it might make her an hour behind schedule. Driving across town during rush hour was rage inducing even for the calmest person. By the time Violet turned onto the ritzy Belle Meade Street, she needed a drink. Her phone rang, and she pressed the answer button on the steering wheel.

“Where are you? You’re not bailing on me. I will come find you,” Elle’s voice filled the car.

“Almost there. Traffic,” Violet said.

“Fine, but if you’d left on time.”

“I’d still be late… and don’t lecture me.”

“This wouldn’t happen if you worked for me... Like I’ve asked.”

“What? So I could leave work early to go drinking with the boss. How would that look?”

“Yes, but you don’t tell people that.”

Violet sighed. “I’m almost there.”

“I’m ready for drinking and dancing, and you’re holding that up.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, I am one martini in, but I’d rather be telling the hot dude behind a bar to ‘put it on my tab.’”

“I’m pulling up to your driveway now.” The phone disconnected, and she reached out the car window to enter the code, but the gate was already opening. She pulled her little sedan up the driveway to the mansion where Elle lived alone. She’d started dating a Cybersecurity expert named Brent six weeks ago, and he came running when she wanted and left when she told him. The arrangement served both of them. It seemed like a match made in heaven, or wherever matches of convenience are made.

The sprawling and stylish abode had large white columns, a well-manicured lawn, and topiaries by the front door. It was the first thing that Elle bought when her cosmetics company, Pure Botanicals, hit the big-time.

“You shouldn’t leave this open,” she called, stepping inside the mudroom which had never seen an ounce of mud. “Anyone can walk right in.”

“And anyone just did,” Elle quipped. She stepped into view wielding a full martini glass and wearing a to die for curve-hugging, black, off-the-shoulder cocktail dress.

Compared to her best friend, Elle Parker, whose elegance and glamor knew no bounds, Violet was a plain jane with mousy hair and an addiction to bargain dresses. It should be easy to hate such a woman; pretty, successful, and with a well-toned butt to boot. But she was someone who’d been there for Violet through everything. And they’d been friends since college, well before all the success. After witnessing Elle’s dedication and work ethic she put in the company, she deserved all of it. Even if Violet’s life had stalled.

“I feel underdressed.”

“I can fix that,” she waived a dismissive hand. “You brought your contact lenses, right?”

Violet patted her handbag, “Right here.” She adjusted her glasses, now self-conscious. She hated contact lenses and never wore them, but Elle had asked. Why didn’t she question the reasoning earlier?

“Good. Let’s get you ready.”

“Elle. Where are we going?”

“Out,” she said, turning up the glass.

“That’s not a dress for bar hopping,” Violet said, unease rising.

“I have the perfect ensemble for you,” she motioned for Violet to follow and started through the kitchen.

Violet crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

She paused and turned back, her bare feet on the porcelain tile. “Okay, just a teeny-tiny change of plans.”

“How teeny-tiny?”

“Vi,” she sighed. “An old college friend of Brent’s is in town, and he wants to meet up with him. Brent asked me to join them. Instead of canceling our plans, I thought you could come.” She grimaced.

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