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“The whole bar saw that, Dayna. I thought Matty was going to burst a gut to take Clark out.”
“Matty? Why would he do that?”
She waves a hand through the air. “He’s had eyes for you since first year of uni, and you splitting up with him after three months didn’t change that.”
“Christ, that’s all we need, a whose-dick-is-biggest competition.”
“You surely know the answer to that question.”
I chuckle. “Well, Matty was still growing, I think.”
“I knew it. Layton has the looks and the kit.” She sits next to me and nudges my shoulder with hers. “You know, maybe he’s changed, Dayna.”
“Can you tell me why you’re defending him? First Ted, now you.”
“Hey, I’m not defending him. I’m ready to mangle his balls in a heartbeat, just say the word. All I’m saying is, I’ve never known you happier than when you were with Clark. Maybe he’s changed, and you won’t know that unless you talk to him.”
“Maybe he has,” I concede. I guess he was going to be married. I suppose that could be a sign that he wants to put his player days behind him. “But I’ve changed too, Rach. I’m not the girl he walked all over anymore. I’ve seen things, things that have changed me. I’m not the girl he remembers. I don’t think I could be that happy anymore.”
“So maybe you get to know the new versions of each other. As friends. Or not.”
“Or not? I’m not going to be the woman he fucks to decide whether he goes back to his childhood sweetheart.”
“Right. Fine. Settled. You can be a cock-tease instead and make yourself feel better in the process. Torture the bastard for what he did to you.” She winks and I’m laughing again.
“Ladies!” The bedroom door opens. Yvette and Amy stand in the doorway. “You rang?” Yvette dangles a bottle of Bollinger from one hand and two glasses in the other.
Amy pulls another two flutes from behind her back with dramatic flair. “Birthday bubbles!”
“We have plans for you, lady,” Rachel says as Yvette cautiously squeezes the cork of the Bollinger. “You’re going to need that LBD I told you to pack. Dinner, catered. Ridiculous games. And some hot-tub action.”
“Ahh, hence the swimwear.”
“Yep. Then you can really torment Layton.”
“He already looked pretty tormented to me,” Yvette says. “I knew he wanted you back, but I didn’t think he was going to dive in that heavy.”
I take the first glass of fizz from Yvette. “He wants me back?” She lifts her head quickly, and momentarily looks flustered, like she said something she shouldn’t.
“Maybe that’s a conversation for the two of you to have.”
“He’s only just ended things with Constance,” I say, when I ought to be telling her he has no chance.
Yvette hands out the other two glasses, fills her own then puts the much lighter bottle on the drawers. “You might want to ask why he ended things with Constance. And with that foot firmly in my mouth, a toast.” She raises her glass. “To our wonderful, intelligent, caring, hot, sexy momma, Dayna. Happy thirtieth, honey.”
I blush as we clink glasses. “To my girls. Thank you for this weekend and for always looking out for me. Well, except when you let Teddy invite Lucifer to my birthday,” I add with a wink aimed at Yvette.
“Don’t worry, I’ve withheld for the best part of a week in your honour.”
I clink her glass again. “I appreciate the sentiment.”
“WELL, HELLO, FOXY lady.” I do my best impression of sultry — somewhere between burlesque and total failure — as I step into Amy’s bedroom. Her hair is curled across one shoulder and held in place by a crystal slide. Her make-up has been applied, and from the sweet smell of flowers hitting my nose I’d guess she’s already perfumed. But she’s standing in her bra and knickers, holding up two dresses.
She lifts the dresses higher, her head poking through the middle. “Hey, yourself. H. O. T.”
I strike the only red-carpet pose I know — shoulders back, hip out, overdone pout. “This old thing?” I run a hand down the black satin bardot dress that hugs me everywhere where it touches, finishing mid-thigh.
“Those shoes! Heart them,” she shrieks.
