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“Tell me something, Kat,” Sophia demanded. “Exactly how much of that stuff in the bag does the recipe call for?”
“And how much is your own addition?” Liv finished her twin’s thought effortlessly.
“Come on, you guys.” Kat pouted unconvincingly. “This one is going to be good, I can tell. And just because it doesn’t actually call for sardines and black olives doesn’t mean they won’t be good in there.”
“Black olives?” Sophia made a face.
“And sardines? Yuck! Are you making a quiche or an everything pizza?” Liv crossed her arms over her chest.
Kat noticed the gesture and grinned. “Ooo, nice nighty, Liv. Did we have a nocturnal visitor last night?”
Liv opened her mouth but Sophia beat her to it. “No one besides her dream man—whoever he is.”
“I didn’t dream about him last night,” Liv lied defensively. “And I wore this because I happen to like it—it’s comfortable.” In contrast to Sophie’s Sesame Street pjs and Kat’s sensible t-shirt and shorts, she had on her lacy black baby doll nighty. It was the one her ex fiancé, Mitch had given her and it had a short black robe and panties that matched.
Liv wasn’t wearing the set because she missed the jerk—she’d really dodged a bullet when she gave him back his ring and told him to hit the road. It was more a case of not letting something so nice go to waste. Mitch may have been a cheating bastard but he had good taste in underwear—underwear for her, anyway. He’d worn tighty-whities himself. Liv had always struggled not to laugh when he strutted around the house in them, thinking he looked so hot.
“She claims she stayed up late reading a book—that’s why the dark circles and eye luggage.” Sophia sounded skeptical.
“Well you look like hell,” Kat said frankly. “It must have been some book. Was it a horror novel or what?”
“Something like that,” Liv muttered sulkily. She was in no mood to put up with her friend’s teasing.
“Well don’t get bent out of shape, doll.” Kat smiled at her as she continued pulling ingredients out of her shopping bag. Liv hoped the strawberries and mangos were for a fruit salad and not the sardine and black olive quiche. “I just thought with that sexy outfit maybe you’d finally decided to get back on the dating train. You and Mitch hit splitsville over six months ago now.”
“You’re the last one to talk about dating.” Sophia was whisking something in a bowl—no doubt she’d decided to make pancake batter after all as a back up to the disastrous quiche. “You’re even worse with men than me—and I suck at the social scene,” she added, tasting the batter and reaching for a bottle of vanilla extract.
“Exactly—because most men today don’t appreciate the pleasures of a plus sized woman.” Kat gestured at her own lush figure with a small pineapple she’d pulled out of the seemingly bottomless bag. “Which is why I have to live vicariously through you two skinny-minnies. A size eight looks good in that naughty little nighty—a size eighteen, not so much.”
It was true Kat was a size eighteen but she had it all in the right places, Liv thought. She had often wished that her breasts were as full as Kat’s but then, Kat was full to running over all over the place, including her mouth. She was thinking of going back to school to become a lawyer instead of just a paralegal because getting paid to argue was her idea of a perfect job. Usually her quick wit and naughty sense of humor cracked Liv up but this morning she so wasn’t in the mood.
“Change the subject. Preferably away from my hot jammies and the fact that I don’t have a man to wear them for,” she said, getting up from the table and going to the fridge for a glass of juice. Actually she’d tried dating again after she’d dumped Mitch but somehow it didn’t feel right. Mainly because none of the men she went out with were tall and dark with glowing amber eyes…Stop that! she scolded herself, pulling open the fridge door which was covered in colorful magnets and reaching for the carton of OJ. Stop thinking about him—he’s not even real!
She tried concentrating on her favorite fridge magnet instead, the one with two California rolls in bed side by side. The caption underneath read, Wake up, little sushi!
“Okay, sourpuss, try this subject on for size,” Kat snapped, folding the empty shopping bag and stowing it away in her barn-sized purse. “You remember Jillian Holms that took home-ec with us in high school?”
“The head cheerleader?” Sophia made a face. “How could we forget?”
“That’s her.” Kat nodded enthusiastically. “Well, you’re not going to believe this but she got drafted.”
There was complete silence in the room for about two seconds and then Liv and Sophia said simultaneously, “She what?”
