peacock over my Casper career. The girl most likely to succeed did.
The fifth reunion came right after my trips to Madrid and London, and right before my trip to Florence. Not South Carolina either—Italy.
I bragged and gloated. Snubbed those stay-at-home moms with their two-year-olds. I regaled the room with my “travel abroad” stories.
The tenth reunion came right after I’d been promoted to team leader. Two years later I made manager.
Serves me right. Pride goes before a fall. Now look.
“Macy, be the emcee,” Lucy says with resolve. “You’re perfect for the job.” While she is no way as alluring as Dylan, she is my best friend and that has to count for something.
“Maybe,” I say. “But never mind that. Guess who’s a millionaire?”
Open bomb-bay doors.
“Besides John Friedman?” She’s dying to know, I can tell.
“Skip Warner. And he’s married to Joley McGowan.” Bombs away!
“What? I knew that. Tell me something I don’t know, Macy.”
“You knew?” I shoot out of my chair. “Then why don’t I know? What kind of friend are you?”
“Oops, I meant to tell you. I guess I forgot.” She sounds sheepish and repentant, but I’m not letting her off that easily.
“Then I guess I forget to tell you what Dylan said to me yesterday.”
“What? You can’t keep Dylan news a secret. Details, details.” She’s yipping like my aunt May’s toy poodle.
“Nope, too bad. You’ll have to wait.”
“Fine, but I want all the details, every last tidbit, right down to the brand of his T-shirt.” Her normal voice, thank heaven, returns.
I laugh at her desperation. “Okay, details it is.” I’m actually dying to tell her.
I stretch and walk over to the window. The day is so gorgeous. Procrastination is beckoning. I look out at my car in the parking lot, wondering if I can escape. Um, hey, there’s Roni getting into her car with Mike.
“Lucy.” I whisper.
“What?” She whispers back.
“Attila is leaving with Mike Perkins.”
“Really?”
“Do you think—”
“Stop. Don’t go there, Macy. It’ll only pollute your mind. You don’t know and you can’t assume.”
I watch Attila’s burgundy car exit the Casper campus and head south. “You’re right.”
“Doesn’t help your feelings, though, does it?” Lucy says softly.
“Not really. But you know, I hope it’s not true. Mike is married with little kids.”
I feel burdened. Not only for me, but for Mike Perkins and Roni Karpinski. She lives one sad life, but she believesshe has it all. One day she’ll be forced to retire, and Casper & Company won’t care that she sits alone in her house on the river with no one to visit.
Fear of being another lonely Roni blinded me somewhat about Chris Wright, along with the incessant ringing of my bio clock.
Lucy breaks in to my thoughts. “Mace, I have a phone interview in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, I need to get to work.” I glance at my desk. “See you tonight? I feel like shopping.”
“Old Navy’s having a sale.”
“Now you’re talking. What time? Six-thirty?”
“Better make it seven. I’ve got a lot to do.”
Without manager duties plaguing me, I don’t have a reason to stay late anymore. “I’ll be there already. Look for me.”
“Don’t forget tomorrow night, either.”
I think for a second. Ah, yes. “Tuesday. The infamous gathering of the Single Saved Sisters.”
“We miss you.”
The Single Saved Sisters, well, well. I haven’t met with the Sisters since my third month with Chris. “Same time, same place?”
“Of course.”
“Thank goodness some things never change.” I hang up, grab a soda from my mini fridge and double click on the Holloway proposal.
Chapter Eight
T uesday at eight the Single Saved Sisters gather at House of Joe’s for coffee, consolation and consultation.
The club emerged two years ago when Tamara Clayton and I had an epiphany in the church parking lot.
“Where are all the good Christian men?” Tamara
The fifth reunion came right after my trips to Madrid and London, and right before my trip to Florence. Not South Carolina either—Italy.
I bragged and gloated. Snubbed those stay-at-home moms with their two-year-olds. I regaled the room with my “travel abroad” stories.
The tenth reunion came right after I’d been promoted to team leader. Two years later I made manager.
Serves me right. Pride goes before a fall. Now look.
“Macy, be the emcee,” Lucy says with resolve. “You’re perfect for the job.” While she is no way as alluring as Dylan, she is my best friend and that has to count for something.
“Maybe,” I say. “But never mind that. Guess who’s a millionaire?”
Open bomb-bay doors.
“Besides John Friedman?” She’s dying to know, I can tell.
“Skip Warner. And he’s married to Joley McGowan.” Bombs away!
“What? I knew that. Tell me something I don’t know, Macy.”
“You knew?” I shoot out of my chair. “Then why don’t I know? What kind of friend are you?”
“Oops, I meant to tell you. I guess I forgot.” She sounds sheepish and repentant, but I’m not letting her off that easily.
“Then I guess I forget to tell you what Dylan said to me yesterday.”
“What? You can’t keep Dylan news a secret. Details, details.” She’s yipping like my aunt May’s toy poodle.
“Nope, too bad. You’ll have to wait.”
“Fine, but I want all the details, every last tidbit, right down to the brand of his T-shirt.” Her normal voice, thank heaven, returns.
I laugh at her desperation. “Okay, details it is.” I’m actually dying to tell her.
I stretch and walk over to the window. The day is so gorgeous. Procrastination is beckoning. I look out at my car in the parking lot, wondering if I can escape. Um, hey, there’s Roni getting into her car with Mike.
“Lucy.” I whisper.
“What?” She whispers back.
“Attila is leaving with Mike Perkins.”
“Really?”
“Do you think—”
“Stop. Don’t go there, Macy. It’ll only pollute your mind. You don’t know and you can’t assume.”
I watch Attila’s burgundy car exit the Casper campus and head south. “You’re right.”
“Doesn’t help your feelings, though, does it?” Lucy says softly.
“Not really. But you know, I hope it’s not true. Mike is married with little kids.”
I feel burdened. Not only for me, but for Mike Perkins and Roni Karpinski. She lives one sad life, but she believesshe has it all. One day she’ll be forced to retire, and Casper & Company won’t care that she sits alone in her house on the river with no one to visit.
Fear of being another lonely Roni blinded me somewhat about Chris Wright, along with the incessant ringing of my bio clock.
Lucy breaks in to my thoughts. “Mace, I have a phone interview in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, I need to get to work.” I glance at my desk. “See you tonight? I feel like shopping.”
“Old Navy’s having a sale.”
“Now you’re talking. What time? Six-thirty?”
“Better make it seven. I’ve got a lot to do.”
Without manager duties plaguing me, I don’t have a reason to stay late anymore. “I’ll be there already. Look for me.”
“Don’t forget tomorrow night, either.”
I think for a second. Ah, yes. “Tuesday. The infamous gathering of the Single Saved Sisters.”
“We miss you.”
The Single Saved Sisters, well, well. I haven’t met with the Sisters since my third month with Chris. “Same time, same place?”
“Of course.”
“Thank goodness some things never change.” I hang up, grab a soda from my mini fridge and double click on the Holloway proposal.
Chapter Eight
T uesday at eight the Single Saved Sisters gather at House of Joe’s for coffee, consolation and consultation.
The club emerged two years ago when Tamara Clayton and I had an epiphany in the church parking lot.
“Where are all the good Christian men?” Tamara
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