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“What happened to Rake?” Tyler asks.
I whip around. “He was right behind me,” I say, looking into the dense crowd.
“Anybody up for a little nose powdering?” Daria asks, looking straight at Wendy and me.
I’m still not sure where Rake disappeared to, but I do want to check my makeup after that one errant tear threatened to ruin my face.
“Let’s go,” I say.
We weave through the crowd, with Wendy and Daria saying hi to people. I overhear more than one person say ‘there she is,’ and ‘that’s Rake’s new wife,’ but I keep moving.
I figure I’ll meet them all eventually. Well, depending on how long I’m going to be around.
We get to the ladies’ room, and Daria looks under the stall doors. “Coast is clear. Nobody else is here. “So how are things going, honey? I think people are really buying that you two are an actual couple.”
God, I hope so.
“That is the plan,” I say.
“Well, you guys are adorable together. I’ve been seeing your photos in the paper and everything. It’s like you were born to be an athlete’s wife,” Wendy says.
We line up, side by side, each touching up our lipstick in the bathroom mirror, and while I am so, so grateful these two women have kind of taken me under their wings, I realize how much I miss my own girls, Lucy and Gilly. I make a mental note to text them later to set something up for the coming week.
It seems being ‘married’ has been more time consuming than I expected.
Wendy and Daria get lost in swapping toilet training techniques, and since I have nothing to add to the conversation, I beg off. “Guys, I’m getting something to eat. I’ll see you back at our table, okay?”
I leave them in the throes of debating who is harder to train, boys or girls, and make my way through the crowd. When I reach the food, I take a plate and start to load up on shrimp. But I don’t want to have fish breath, so I limit myself, and grab some mini carrots.
Carrots give you good breath, right?
I’m savoring my second shrimp, especially since I’m not letting myself gorge on them, when I overhear someone say Rake’s name.
“I haven’t seen his new wife yet, have you?” a woman asks.
Oh my God. They’re talking about me. Heat blasts across my face, and not wanting anyone to see me, I study a carrot stick like I’ve never seen one before.
“Haven’t met her yet. In fact, I have no idea what she looks like. But I understand she’s, you know, kind of average,” the other woman says.
What?Was last night’s face mask all for nothing?
“Oh? That’s a shame. I tried to introduce him to my Janie awhile back. It didn’t go anywhere. And you know how beautiful my daughter is.”
“It’s just so strange, this whole elopement thing. Kind of like it’s some sort of publicity stunt,” the first one adds.
They titter, and I start to turn around to introduce myself. Put those bitches in their place. But I don’t want to cause Rake any trouble. I’m here to help him, not make him look bad. So I just simmer.
I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of simmering lately.
Maybe I should go along with the stupid press conference thing Rake told me Vince was pressuring him into, just to shut people like that up. Sure, my marriage is fake, but it’s no one else’s fucking business.
“Why, it’s Miss Petal.”
I turn to see Vince Vincent, PR guru and general pain in the ass, looking like a kid dressed up in a tux. It must be hard, working around all these Adonises when you’re so scrawny. Probably why he loves having power over them.
“Hello Vince. Enjoying the party?” I ask after he stares at my boobs for too long.
“Oh yes. Very much so. You look incredible in that green.”
