Bumped - Completed Novel

Bumped - Chapter Six

The problem with me and Diego? Sometimes I felt as though our merger was just another acquisition for him. Maybe he collected hearts like some people collected rare cars. Something to be stored but not actually used. Maybe a wife wasn't such a far-fetched idea after-all. Maybe it was all just a big mistake, one that could be resolved if he just called. The problem with me? Maybe I loved being in love too much.

* * * *

I kept my head down at work and managed not to kill any small animals and get through the day without any drama. Now, I was late to an engagement party. One that I would have loved to ditch but it was probably poor form since I was the maid of honor. I'd been set up on a blind date years ago with someone totally not my type, think: Mr. Bookman from Good Times, and he raved about a friend of his also from New Jersey. He introduced me to Freddie and we'd been friends ever since. Not really sure whatever happened to the guy.

Hopefully Freddie wouldn't be too upset with me. I was always late and I had promised her I would be on time to the engagement dinner at Swank's in Beverly Hills. I swung by the house to change. It took me forever to find something to wear. Everything felt a little snug (that's what I got for having everything tailored) and made me feel self-conscious. I finally decided on a pair of distressed low riding jeans and a beige off-the-shoulder peasant blouse.

Would people know? Could they tell? A part of me wanted to crawl into bed with a pound of chocolate-covered strawberries. Make that two pounds. I would inhale the first pound and take my time savoring the second. Somehow I would manage to consume all while safely cocooned between my sheets. My hand started to shake while I put on my mascara and freshened up my powder to hide the matching luggage sets underneath my eyes. Don't stop. Keep moving. It was the only remedy my family ever used in times of crisis and we always seemed to be in some type of crisis mode.

I was blasting an Angela Bofil song on the way to Swank's. "I Try" seemed so appropriate. The minute I stepped into the restaurant, I heard Freddie's distinctive laugh slicing through the undercurrent of talk, clattering of dishes and background music. It was a tight squeeze as the hostess led me to the back room. The main dining room was no bigger than my living room and every seat was full. The walls were sponged a gorgeous shade of sky blue and the flickering candlelight heightened the mingling scents floating about. Spicy seafood gumbo. Ox tails. Collard greens. By the time I reached the party I felt like the Venus flytrap in the Little Shop of Horrors. FEED ME! All of the usual suspects were seated and accounted for. My heart sank a little when I saw two empty and expectant chairs toward the end of the table. I knew I would have to spend a good 20 minutes acting as Diego's GPS, explaining his absence.

Six couples were already seated and various snippets of conversation floated about. Frederica and Nigel dominated the center of the long table. Freddie wore a skin-tight black dress with a blood red feather boa draped around her neck while Nigel was resplendent in an off-white silk shirt. Freddie was a large woman, in size and voice. She used to do theater. She was pure drama from her impeccably done face to a voice that could inject high drama into simple phrases like "please pass the salt." Whereas I don't remember ever hearing Nigel speak more than two sentences. He was small and slender with a nervous quality that took form in the shape of wide damp circles underneath his arms.

As usual when the clique clicked, banter around the table centered around who was vacationing where, who purchased what stock, new cars bought, all of the delights to be had with an excess of disposable income. At least it used to be. Since the group was purely new money, the recession had sliced and diced their income so that lately the talk centered on how much they had saved and downgrading from a nanny, chef and housekeeper to just making do with a nanny who took on the additional duties of a housekeeper or chef; and in some cases a gardener.