Savor the Moment
Page 58
“Oh, you’re finished. I was coming in to help you with the setup.”
“With five minutes to spare? That’s not Parker time.”
“The clients called to reschedule for ten thirty.”
Laurel shut her eyes. “I killed myself to stay on schedule. You could’ve told me.”
“They just called ... okay, twenty minutes ago. But this way, nobody’s late.”
“You didn’t tell anyone.”
“I love that top,” Parker said brightly. “It’s almost a shame to cover most of it with a suit jacket.”
“That kind of thing only works on distracted clients.” But with a shrug, Laurel reached for the jacket she’d hung up before baking. “But it is a great top.”
“We’re not late!” Mac and Emma rushed in together.
“No, but the client’s going to be,” Laurel told them. “Sneaky Brown kept that to herself.”
“Only for twenty minutes.”
“Jeez. I don’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved. I need a hit.” Mac opened the refrigerator for a Diet Pepsi. “So ...” Mac uncapped the top, took a long sip as she studied Laurel. “I bet you’re feeling all loose and relaxed.”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“Oh, I bet a whole buncha lots better than fine. I bet hanging off a lamppost belting out a show tune in the rain kind of fine after that workout. Wait, let me put air quotes around ‘workout.’” She set down her drink and did just that.
“What, did you set up a hidden camera in my room?”
“I would never be so crude—unless I’d thought of it first. Besides, who needs a hidden camera? The two of you were sending off such wild sex vibes in there I had to leave before they caught me and I jumped both of you and had a threesome.”
“Really?” Parker asked, drawing out both syllables.
“Well, not about the threesome probably. Laurel’s not my type. I’d go for you, hot stuff.” She gave Parker a lewd wink.
“I thought I was your type,” Emma said.
“I’m such a slut.Anyway, the two of them are on those elliptical bastards, and the steam’s rising. Then they’re using workout code for sex talk.”
“We were not.”
“Oh, I broke your code.” Mac pointed a finger. “‘I’m coming up on you. I can finish strong.’ I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”
“You are a slut,” Laurel decided.
“I’m an engaged slut, and don’t you forget it. But I should thank you, as I took my unexpected sexual frustration out on Carter after our swim. And he thanks you, too.”
“Anytime.”
“This is all very interesting, and I mean that sincerely. But—” Parker tapped her watch. “We need to set up in the parlor.”
“Wait.” Emma tossed up a traffic cop hand. “Just one question, because I have to get the flowers out of the van. Do you really have energy for sex after your workout?”
“Read the book. Watch the infomercial.”
“What book?” Emma demanded as Laurel carried the pastries out of the kitchen. “What infomercial?”
“Flowers,” Parker said, then carted off the coffee setup.
“Damn it. Don’t talk about anything good until I get back. In fact, you have to help me haul in the flowers.”
“But I want to—”
Emma just made a cut-off sound, held up a finger at Mac.
“Okay, okay.”
In the parlor, Laurel and Parker set up the refreshments. “So, is it later?”
“Later than what?” Laurel responded.
“Later than it was earlier when you said later.”
“Yeah, it’s later.” Laurel fussed with the fan of napkins. “How many clients?”
“Bride, MOB, FOB, Groom, SMOG. Five.”
“Right. FOG was a widower. He’s not coming?”
“Out of town. You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay. Of course, it’s not okay. I’m saying that because you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to feel bad.”
“You’re such a bitch.” Laurel had to laugh. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that I feel stupid about it. Especially now, after the hot jungle sex.”
“It was hot jungle sex?” Emma demanded as she came in with a box exploded with star lilies. “What kind of workout was it? How long? Be specific. Parker, take notes.”
“Five miles on the elliptical.”
“Well, God.” Heaving a sigh, Emma began taking out the vases, placing them. “Forget it. I’d be dead after five miles of anything, then Jack would have hot jungle sex with someone else. It’d just piss me off. There are easier ways to HJS.”
“I wonder,” Parker began, “is it possible, is it perhaps conceivable, we’re all a little obsessed with sex at the moment?”
“It’s her fault.” Mac helped Emma with the flowers. “You’d understand if you’d been in the gym with all those sex vibes dancing around.”
“We’re not talking about sex,” Laurel said.
“When did we stop?” Emma wondered.
“Before you came in. We’re talking about something else.”
“Just as well since I’m not doing five miles on some machine. What something else?”
“It’s about dinner last night. Or before dinner. I was late. It’s your fault.” She pointed at Mac.
“What? I couldn’t help it. The studio shoot ran over, and I couldn’t find my shoes. The ones I needed. Besides, you were hardly late. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Long enough for Deborah Manning to sit down with Del at our table and have a glass of our wine.”
“I thought Deborah Manning was in Spain.”
“So you don’t know everything.” Laurel smiled thinly at Parker. “She’s obviously not in Spain as she was drinking wine with Del.”
“He’s not interested in Deborah.”
“He used to be.”
“That was years ago, and they only dated a couple of times.”
“I know.” Laurel held up her hands before Parker continued. “I know, which is one of the reasons I feel stupid. I wasn’t jealous—I’m not jealous—of her, that way. If I was, I’d feel even more stupid because he was so obviously not interested in her that way. I don’t think she was either. In him.”
“With five minutes to spare? That’s not Parker time.”
“The clients called to reschedule for ten thirty.”
Laurel shut her eyes. “I killed myself to stay on schedule. You could’ve told me.”
“They just called ... okay, twenty minutes ago. But this way, nobody’s late.”
“You didn’t tell anyone.”
“I love that top,” Parker said brightly. “It’s almost a shame to cover most of it with a suit jacket.”
“That kind of thing only works on distracted clients.” But with a shrug, Laurel reached for the jacket she’d hung up before baking. “But it is a great top.”
“We’re not late!” Mac and Emma rushed in together.
“No, but the client’s going to be,” Laurel told them. “Sneaky Brown kept that to herself.”
“Only for twenty minutes.”
“Jeez. I don’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved. I need a hit.” Mac opened the refrigerator for a Diet Pepsi. “So ...” Mac uncapped the top, took a long sip as she studied Laurel. “I bet you’re feeling all loose and relaxed.”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“Oh, I bet a whole buncha lots better than fine. I bet hanging off a lamppost belting out a show tune in the rain kind of fine after that workout. Wait, let me put air quotes around ‘workout.’” She set down her drink and did just that.
“What, did you set up a hidden camera in my room?”
“I would never be so crude—unless I’d thought of it first. Besides, who needs a hidden camera? The two of you were sending off such wild sex vibes in there I had to leave before they caught me and I jumped both of you and had a threesome.”
“Really?” Parker asked, drawing out both syllables.
“Well, not about the threesome probably. Laurel’s not my type. I’d go for you, hot stuff.” She gave Parker a lewd wink.
“I thought I was your type,” Emma said.
“I’m such a slut.Anyway, the two of them are on those elliptical bastards, and the steam’s rising. Then they’re using workout code for sex talk.”
“We were not.”
“Oh, I broke your code.” Mac pointed a finger. “‘I’m coming up on you. I can finish strong.’ I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”
“You are a slut,” Laurel decided.
“I’m an engaged slut, and don’t you forget it. But I should thank you, as I took my unexpected sexual frustration out on Carter after our swim. And he thanks you, too.”
“Anytime.”
“This is all very interesting, and I mean that sincerely. But—” Parker tapped her watch. “We need to set up in the parlor.”
“Wait.” Emma tossed up a traffic cop hand. “Just one question, because I have to get the flowers out of the van. Do you really have energy for sex after your workout?”
“Read the book. Watch the infomercial.”
“What book?” Emma demanded as Laurel carried the pastries out of the kitchen. “What infomercial?”
“Flowers,” Parker said, then carted off the coffee setup.
“Damn it. Don’t talk about anything good until I get back. In fact, you have to help me haul in the flowers.”
“But I want to—”
Emma just made a cut-off sound, held up a finger at Mac.
“Okay, okay.”
In the parlor, Laurel and Parker set up the refreshments. “So, is it later?”
“Later than what?” Laurel responded.
“Later than it was earlier when you said later.”
“Yeah, it’s later.” Laurel fussed with the fan of napkins. “How many clients?”
“Bride, MOB, FOB, Groom, SMOG. Five.”
“Right. FOG was a widower. He’s not coming?”
“Out of town. You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay. Of course, it’s not okay. I’m saying that because you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to feel bad.”
“You’re such a bitch.” Laurel had to laugh. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that I feel stupid about it. Especially now, after the hot jungle sex.”
“It was hot jungle sex?” Emma demanded as she came in with a box exploded with star lilies. “What kind of workout was it? How long? Be specific. Parker, take notes.”
“Five miles on the elliptical.”
“Well, God.” Heaving a sigh, Emma began taking out the vases, placing them. “Forget it. I’d be dead after five miles of anything, then Jack would have hot jungle sex with someone else. It’d just piss me off. There are easier ways to HJS.”
“I wonder,” Parker began, “is it possible, is it perhaps conceivable, we’re all a little obsessed with sex at the moment?”
“It’s her fault.” Mac helped Emma with the flowers. “You’d understand if you’d been in the gym with all those sex vibes dancing around.”
“We’re not talking about sex,” Laurel said.
“When did we stop?” Emma wondered.
“Before you came in. We’re talking about something else.”
“Just as well since I’m not doing five miles on some machine. What something else?”
“It’s about dinner last night. Or before dinner. I was late. It’s your fault.” She pointed at Mac.
“What? I couldn’t help it. The studio shoot ran over, and I couldn’t find my shoes. The ones I needed. Besides, you were hardly late. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Long enough for Deborah Manning to sit down with Del at our table and have a glass of our wine.”
“I thought Deborah Manning was in Spain.”
“So you don’t know everything.” Laurel smiled thinly at Parker. “She’s obviously not in Spain as she was drinking wine with Del.”
“He’s not interested in Deborah.”
“He used to be.”
“That was years ago, and they only dated a couple of times.”
“I know.” Laurel held up her hands before Parker continued. “I know, which is one of the reasons I feel stupid. I wasn’t jealous—I’m not jealous—of her, that way. If I was, I’d feel even more stupid because he was so obviously not interested in her that way. I don’t think she was either. In him.”
