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“I won’t be breaking any glasses. If I need a rescue, I’ll do it myself.” A sudden bolt of doubt flashes through my mind.
This is very unlike me.
I self-consciously glance down at myself.
“Do I look okay?” I cast a sheepish glance at Cass. My bravado has failed me now that I’m about to walk the walk.
“You look better than okay. You look wonderful,” she says with all of the sincerity of a dutiful and loving friend who would never say anything other than how wonderful I look.
I lose my nerve and lower myself back into my seat. I grab my wine and take a moody, resentful sip.
Cass puts her drink down and grabs my forearm.
“What happened?” Her dark brows are furrowed in concern. “I thought you were off to get laid.”
I sink down in my seat and pout.
“Why in the world would he be interested in me? She said he’s filthy rich or something. He’s young and hot, too. Do you know how rare that is? I bet he’s engaged to marry one of those princesses—Eugenie or whatever.” I fling my hand in his direction, but my eyes are fixed on the drink I’m lifting back to my lips.
“If he is, then I feel sorry for her because he’s going to be leaving here with the hottest woman in the room,” she says with a little too much enthusiasm. And I roll my eyes.
“Confidence, you’re a catch,” she exclaims.
I give her a disbelieving look. “Oh yeah, I know thousands of eligible, sexy men who are beating a path to be with a broke, failed lawyer with a poster family of dysfunction,” I say grumpily.
“That’s not all you are,” she whispers fiercely, squeezing my arm. I chuckle—it’s humorless, short and dry.
“Well, I’m glad you agree that it’s some of what I am,” I quip and take another swig of my wine.
“For God’s sake, one lost job doesn’t mean you failed,” she cajoles.
I throw her a glance. “I was almost disbarred.”
“That was all that fucking Nigel’s fault,” she reminds me.
“True. But it’s certainly not his fault that I’ve spent sixty percent of my life savings in the last three months. A good chunk of it on this last minute, incredibly glamorous vacation. Who doesn’t find a financially irresponsible spendthrift irresistible?”
“You think anyone worthy of you will care about any of that?” Cass asks me softly.
“One of us will have to care. Even a lifetime of sex with that beautiful man won’t make up for my flagrant disregard for budgets.”
She chuckles. “Now you’re just being dramatic. At least you have your life savings. If I lost my job, I would have to move back home with my parents after one month,” she says and nudges me with her shoulder.
I sigh and look back at my man … God, I’m ridiculous. He’s not my anything.
“I’ve never broken a rule my whole life, Cass,” I say to her. “I didn’t even shave above the knee until I was twenty-one. I did whatever I thought I had to, to get out of Arkansas. I had a good run, and in one fell swoop, I’ve managed to ruin my life.” I drain my glass and drop it on the table. “So, If I’m hanging out in rock bottom city, then I’m at least doing it in style.” I wave an arm around the opulently decorated room to make my point.
“Well, you can thank Jules for being smart enough to land an Italian count with enough money to pull off a party like this.”
“To Jules,” I say.
“To Jules,” she repeats as we clink our empty glasses.
“You know what?” I ask and stare at the bubbles clinging to the lip of my glass. They remind me of myself. I’m holding on. Long after life should have swallowed me whole.
“What?” Cass asks when I don’t continue.
“I’ve found that rock bottom might be the best thing to ever happen to me. I’ve spent the last three months shopping, traveling, eating, and sleeping to my heart’s content. Sure, after this, I have to move home. But, have you seen how round my ass has gotten?” I lift and point to my silver sequined covered backside and wink. “It’s amazing, right?” I grin at her.
