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  “You only need one bedroom,” Bridget broke in. Both Lily and Charles swung to face her.

  Lily blinked. “Where are you going to go?”

  Bridget smiled, with a glint in her eye that made Lily very glad they were friends, and on the same side. “First, I’m going on my honeymoon.” She grinned. “I’ve got the tickets in my purse. The hotel’s already paid for, and I think Hawaii is the perfect place to get over a broken engagement.”

  “But what about after that?” Lily asked, not really surprised by the announcement. Bridget had always been impulsive, leaping before she looked. Bridget was the leaper, and Lily was the looker. “The honeymoon is only two weeks, you’ll need someplace to live when you get back.”

  Bridget shrugged. “Maybe I’ll stay in Hawaii for a while,” she said. “Learn to surf.”

  “Bridget, Hawaii is expensive.”

  “And you’re broke,” Charles chimed in.

  She shrugged. “I’ll find a way to pay for it. Don’t worry so much, mama,” she chided gently when Lily opened her mouth to protest. She grinned suddenly. “If it comes down to it, I can always use this to pay for it.” She held up her left hand and waggled her fingers.

  Lily choked on her coffee. “Your engagement ring? I thought that was some kind of family heirloom.”

  “It was,” Bridget said. “It was Max’s great-grandmother’s, custom made in Paris by Cartier.” She glanced down at the diamond, wiggling her finger so it flashed in the morning light, and her grin went wicked. “But it’s mine now.”

  Lily shook her head. “I think wedding etiquette dictates if the bride calls off the wedding, she has to give back the ring.”

  “And I say if the bride calls it off because the groom is a lying, cheating, scum-sucking pig, she can do whatever the hell she wants with it.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Lily muttered.

  “I’m selling the emerald earrings too,” she said suddenly, as though she’d just thought of it. Which she probably had. “The ones he gave me for my birthday. And the pearls that were his mother’s. That old witch never did think I was good enough for her precious son.”

  “You should sell that platinum-and-gold choker he gave you for Valentine’s Day too,” Charles offered. “It never did suit you, darling. It’s so clunky, and you’re so delicate. It just doesn’t look right on you.”

  Bridget beamed at him. “Thank you, Charles, I do believe you’re right. The choker goes too.”

  “Don’t encourage her, Charles,” Lily said, but it was a halfhearted protest. Max was such an ass, and he’d be so delightfully mad when he found out Bridget sold all the jewelry he’d given her. And he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.

  “Oh come on, it’s fun!” Charles grinned and spread his hands. “Bridget has a way to finance a lovely long stay in Hawaii, and you can look for a new place. A one-bedroom will be much easier to find than a two-bedroom.”

  “True,” Lily conceded.

  Bridget clapped her hands together. “It’s all set then. And don’t worry, I’ll rent a storage space and put all my stuff away. You won’t have to worry about moving it or anything.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Lily said, saying a silent prayer of thanks that she wouldn’t have to live with the mess much longer. “Now, what about the wedding gifts?”

  The three of them turned to look through the open kitchen doorway at the piles of gaily wrapped presents that littered the living room. “They have to be returned,” Lily said. “That’s one point of etiquette I’m very clear on—if the wedding is cancelled, the gifts go back, no matter who did the cancelling.”

  “Have them delivered to Max,” Charles suggested. “It’s his fault there was no wedding, he can deal with returning all the gifts.”

  Bridget giggled and all but bounced on her toes with excitement. “Perfect!”

  Lily sighed and sipped her coffee. “Perfect.”

  * * * * *

  By Thursday, Bridget had packed up all of her things and moved them to a storage locker, and the wedding presents had been delivered to Max’s downtown offices with a ceremony and flair that even Lily had to admit had been marvelously entertaining. Bridget had sold the choker, pearls and emerald earrings to a jeweler who specialized in estate pieces but was holding the engagement ring and a pair of diamond earrings in reserve. And Lily was no closer to finding a place to live than she had been on Sunday. After searching the newspapers, internet and supermarket bulletin boards, she’d only found one apartment that was in her price range and a decent neighborhood, and one look at the three tiny rooms and overly affectionate landlord had effectively crossed it off the list.

  She dragged herself into the apartment late Thursday night to find Charles and Bridget popping open the last of the wedding champagne. They both turned as she came in, watching silently as she toed off her shoes, set down her purse and walked calmly over to the sofa and fell face first into the cushions.

  “Honey,” Charles chided. “I know it’s been a tough week, but have a little dignity.”

  “Mmmph,” Lily mumbled into a pillow, not bothering to make the effort to turn her head.

  She felt someone reach down, gently pick up her head and turn it so that her cheek lay on the pillow. “Try again,” Charles suggested.

  Lily sighed and opened her eyes to see Charles and Bridget crouched in front of her, peering at her as though she were a particularly volatile exhibit at the zoo.

  Bridget gave her a tentative smile. “So…how was the apartment?”

  Lily frowned. “Don’t ask.”

  Bridget’s face fell in sympathy. “No good, huh?”

  Lily pushed herself up to a sitting position with a grunt. “No, it was fine. If you don’t mind roaches, no central heat and a landlord who thought my breasts required constant eye contact and made a not-so-subtle suggestion that he’d be willing to take the rent in trade.”

  Bridget winced. “Ugh.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded toward the bottle still in Charles’ hand. “I could use a glass if you’re pouring.”

  “Coming up.” He swiftly filled one of the flutes resting on the coffee table and passed it over. “Down that, and then put on your dancing shoes. We’re going to celebrate Bridgie’s last night by painting the town.”

  “Oh no.” Lily held out a hand to stave off the inevitable arguments. “I’m sorry, I’m just not up for partying. I’m going to have my champagne, a long bubble bath and make an early night of it.”

  “Oh come on,” Bridget protested, and worked her pretty face into a pout. “You have to come.”

  “No, I really don’t,” Lily assured her. She winced at the flash of hurt on her friend’s face as her words came out sharper than intended. “I’m sorry, honey, but I’m really beat. Work was awful today. We had two maids call in sick and a full house. We were running all day.”

  Charles frowned. “You could not pay me to do your job.”

  “It’s not really so bad,” Lily said, and sipped champagne gratefully. “Normally I love the hotel, but for some reason we’re just chock-full of divas this week.”

  “Society bitches getting you down?”

  Despite her fatigue, Lily grinned at Charles. “Maybe I’ll stitch that on a sampler and hang it in the staff lounge—Don’t Let The Society Bitches Get You Down.” She sighed.

  “What happened?” Bridget asked, holding out her glass for Charles to refill.

  Lily propped her feet up on the coffee table. “Just demanding guests, nothing we’re not used to. But this group is nuts, some kind of debutante reunion. Talk about high maintenance.” She rolled her eyes. “Housekeeping hates them, room service is ready to revolt, and if I have to hear about one more face-lift…” She shook her head. “The only bright spot in my day was the fragile hope that the apartment might work out. Which is now shattered.”

  “All the more reason for you to kick up your heels,” Charles said. “Come on, come out with us.”

  “It’ll be like old
times, girls’ night out.” Bridget added her pleas to the chorus. “My flight’s at seven tomorrow morning, so we’ll just stay up all night then go right to the airport. Please?”

  They cajoled and pleaded, but Lily held firm and soon they were dancing out the door in their party togs, and Lily was settling into a tub full of bubbles with the best part of the bottle of champagne.

  Hours later, Lily was awakened from a dead sleep by the loudest, wettest whisper she’d ever heard.

  “Lily! Lily, are you awake?”

  Bridget, Lily realized, and rolled over with a groan. “What time is it?”

  “Um…I think it’s like three thirty.” Lily felt the bed dip at her hip as Bridget sat down. “Are you awake?”

  “I am now,” Lily muttered. She blinked her eyes open, struggling to see in the dark, then let out a thin scream as the bedside lamp winked on.

  “My eyes!” she wailed, and clapped a hand over them. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Sorry!” Bridget hissed, her face so close Lily nearly gagged on the stench.

  “God, you’re breathing vodka all over me,” Lily muttered. “What’s the matter, you need me to hold your hair back?”

  “What? No, no, I threw up at the club.”

  “Thank God for small favors.” Lily winced as Bridget nearly poked her in the eye. “Ow, Bridget!”

  “Oh sorry!” Bridget patted her head with a force that had Lily biting back a hiss of pain. “Listen, I wanted to tell you. We found you an apartment!”

  Lily struggled to make the mental leap from puking to apartment hunting. “What?”

  Bridget was all but bouncing on the bed. “Yeah! See we went to The Slam Room. You should’ve been there, Lil, the band rocked tonight! They were kinda punky with a nice metal edge, and the lead singer was grungy-ugly-hot in that way I love, you know?”

  “Uh-huh.” Lily’s eyes had adjusted to the light, so she scooted herself up to rest against the headboard while Bridget free associated.

  “Yeah, he’s completely the type I’d have gone for. You know, before Max.” Bridget let out a sigh. “He was kind of into me too. I could tell by the way he gazed into my eyes when he was singing ‘Love is a Disease’.”

  “I’m sure it was very profound.” Lily yawned. “Not that I’m not interested in your resurrected love life, but did you say something about an apartment?”

  “Oh!” Bridget clasped her hands together and bounced again. “Right! So, after I threw up, I wanted some mouthwash—you know I can’t stand that icky taste.”

  Lily yawned, too tired to respond, and Bridget rolled on.

  “So I made Charles take me to the drugstore, and he got pissed at me because he’d hooked up with that Jeff guy, you remember the guy he met at the Fourth of July parade last year?”

  Since the conversation didn’t seem to require her to keep her eyes open, Lily let them drift shut again. “The guy with the nipple piercings?”

  “No, that’s John. Jeff was the guy with all the muscles, the one who looked like a professional wrestler and had that pet snake. Anyway, Charlie was pissed ’cause Jeff was putting on the moves, and he didn’t want him to cool off while we ran to the drugstore for mouthwash.”

  Lily snorted. “That guy was a freak. He should’ve been thanking you for getting him out of there unscathed.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to marry the guy,” Charles said, and Lily opened one eye to see him leaning against the bedroom doorway. “Nothing wrong with a little hookup between exes.”

  “Except when the ex is a steroid-popping lunatic mama’s boy,” Lily retorted. “Anyway, I thought you said the sex was lousy?”

  Charles grimaced. “It was, but I was desperate. I’ve been going through a dry spell.”

  “What about that CPA last week?” Bridget asked, and Charles’ face cleared.

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned. “I guess I’m not in a dry spell. Cool.”

  “Not that this isn’t fascinating,” Lily said dryly, “and not that I’m not thankful your dry spell is over, Charles.”

  “Yes, we can all rest easy now,” Bridget chimed in with drunken sarcasm.

  “But it’s…” She popped open her other eye to glance at the bedside clock. “Three forty-three in the morning, and I have to get enough sleep to be at least semiconscious so I can deal with the debutantes today. Is anyone going to be getting to the apartment part of this story anytime soon?”

  “Right, right.” Bridget flapped a hand at Charles, who came over to perch on the other side of the bed. “So, I made Charles leave his snake-lovin’ booty call—”

  “I hear judgment,” Charles admonished, and Lily prayed for patience.

  “Apartment,” she prompted through clenched teeth.

  “Anyway…” Bridget said with a pointed look at Charles, who just shrugged. “We’re at Clawson’s Drugstore, and this guy walks in, and I see he’s headed for the big bulletin board. You know the one, at the front of the store where people come in and put notices? Like garage sales, free kittens, boats for sale—”

  “I think she gets it,” Charles interrupted.

  Bridget huffed out a breath. “Right, so this guy’s putting up a notice. And when we walked out, I looked at it—it was hard not to notice, it’s printed on this bright green paper, like a lime on acid this paper. And it’s for an apartment!”

  Finally, a point! Lily thought. She opened her mouth to speak, but Charles had already leapt into the breach.

  “It’s a one-bedroom garage apartment, over by the university. That older neighborhood with the big old houses and all the trees? Quiet street, lots of yard.”

  Thinking that actually sounded promising, Lily sat up a little straighter. “Did you grab the flier?”

  Charles shifted his weight to reach his hip pocket and produced a folded piece of paper.

  Lily blinked at the color. “Wow, that is bright green.” She unfolded the page and read out loud. “‘One-bedroom garage apartment near university. Quiet street, plenty of yard.’” She flipped the paper over, but there was nothing on the back. “That’s it? Was he being charged by the word?”

  Bridget tapped the paper. “There’s a phone number on the bottom. You should call and make an appointment to go see it.”

  Lily was still frowning at the page, though it was getting difficult to look at; the vibrant hue of the paper was actually starting to sting her eyes. “It doesn’t say how much the rent is.”

  “It’s still worth a look,” Charles said. “Call in the morning, and I’ll go with you to see it.”

  “I’ll call in the morning,” Lily agreed, her jaw cracking as she yawned. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

  “Sure, no problem.” Bridget slid off the bed, dragging Charles with her. “We’ll just go into the kitchen, so we don’t disturb you.”

  “Great. Fine.” Lily had already turned out the light and tugged the blankets up to her chin. “Wake me when you go to the airport.” She sighed. “Thank God they’re on my side,” she muttered, and went back to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  It was almost three the following afternoon before Lily had a free moment to call about the apartment. The debutante reunion luncheon had included frozen peach Bellinis, and since from what she could see none of those women ever ate any actual food, she’d had a very tipsy bunch of aging debs on her hands. They’d wanted to find a strip club and see some “beefcake”, but she’d finally gotten them settled around the pool with the promise that David, the afternoon lifeguard, would be more than adequate for their beefcake needs.

  “Thank God David’s a good sport,” she said, and the front desk clerk laughed.

  “Jeez, who’d have thought a bunch of rich society babes could throw down like that?” Katie shook her head and sent her pert cap of dark hair swinging. “I bet if you got a few more drinks in them, they’d be swinging from the chandeliers.”

  Lily eyed the antique crystal fixture that hung in the hotel lobby. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come
to that.” She turned to Katie. “Can you handle things for a moment out here? I need to step back into the office and make a quick phone call.”

  “Sure.” Katie’s cherubic face went from grinning to curious. “Calling about that apartment?”

  Lily nodded. “Do you know where Ivy Lane is?”

  “Sure, it’s over on the west side of campus, about a mile past the big bookstore. It’s a cute neighborhood. You’d really like living there.”

  “Let’s hope so, because it’s not like I have a lot of choices left,” Lily muttered as she walked around the reception desk toward the office. “If the place has central heat and doesn’t cost a fortune, I’m taking it.”

  “Good luck!” Katie called cheerfully, and Lily smiled back at her before shutting the office door.

  She went to the desk and picked up the phone, punching in the numbers on the flier. She let her eyes wander around the office as she listened to the rings, and her eyes settled on the photograph sitting on the bookshelf. Since she shared the office with one other manager and two assistants, there wasn’t a lot of room for personal belongings, but she hadn’t been able to resist that one photograph. Taken in college, the silly shot of her, Bridget and Charles hanging upside down from the great oak tree in front of the main campus building always made her smile.

  Today it produced a sentimental tug at her heart as she remembered Bridget had left that morning for Hawaii. She was determined to make the most of her solo honeymoon, as she was calling it, and regain the independence she’d sacrificed during her relationship with Max.

  Lily was happy for her friend and proud of her determination to put the disaster of a broken engagement behind her, but she couldn’t help feeling a little lonely without her. Bridget had been the first friend she’d made when she returned to the United States to attend university. She’d been lonely, homesick, and experiencing more than a little culture shock. A liberal college campus in Colorado was a far cry from the all-girls boarding schools she’d attended in London, and she’d felt painfully isolated from her peers. Then she met Bridget in freshman Humanities class, and everything turned around. She smiled as she recalled that first day—shy and deep in the throes of self-pity, she’d barely noticed when someone sat down next to her. Then Bridget had leaned over and made a joke about their professor, who bore an unfortunate resemblance to Fidel Castro, and Lily had laughed before she remembered to be depressed.