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1
“LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT—the bride threw you a skirt that has special man-attracting powers?”
Gwen hefted her suitcase into the trunk of her friend’s car. “That she claims has special man-attracting powers. And not just any man, but supposedly your one, true love. There’ve even been articles written about it. Isn’t that a hoot?” she prompted when Laurie didn’t roll her eyes or fall over laughing.
“I think it’s sweet.”
Sweet? Gwen had felt the need to talk to a rational, nonwedding-infected female. Laurie VanCamp, a friend from work who was giving her a ride home from the airport, was just the person. Or so Gwen had thought.
But Laurie wasn’t scoffing the way she was supposed to. “Tell me the whole story again.”
So Gwen did as they left Houston’s Bush Airport, merged onto the freeway and headed for Gwen’s apartment in the Galleria area. By the time Laurie matched speed with the other cars barreling down the freeway, Gwen was sorry she’d told her anything.
“What’s the skirt look like?” Laurie asked.
“Black, slinky but classy, knee-length—nothing special.”
“Has it been road-tested?”
“Sort of.”
“Has it or hasn’t it?”
Sheesh. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“Well, does it work?” Laurie was taking this whole thing way too seriously.
“How should I know?” Gwen snapped.
“How many of the women found their husbands while wearing it?” Laurie asked with exaggerated patience.
Gwen sighed. “Both of them,” she admitted.
Laurie shot her a startled look, then trained her eyes back on the highway. “And your problem with this skirt is…?”
“Aside from not believing a word of the story? I don’t want a man.”
“Right.”
“Really! Men take too much time and energy. And they’re unreliable. I mean, look—you had to come get me at the airport because the guy changing the oil in my car didn’t have it ready when he said he would.”
“The last Sunday in December is prime football playoff season, not to mention all the college bowl games. What do you expect?”
“I expect him to do what he said he would! I should have known better, but the fact that he’s my neighbor made me forget he’s a man.”
“He’s doing you a favor—give him a break.”
“I’m paying him. And why are you making excuses for him? I was stranded at the airport and he’d had three days to change the oil. You shouldn’t have had to mess up your Sunday afternoon just so he could watch football.” She shook her head. “I don’t need the aggravation. Men are like a really time-consuming hobby that’s become more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll be better off concentrating on my career.”
“Like the world needs more caffeine.”
“Hey! You work at Kwik Koffee, too!”
“Yes, but if you’re giving up men, it should be for something noble like finding a cure for cancer or heart disease or becoming an astronaut or something.”
“You see? You see? You just proved my point. More women would have those careers if they didn’t have to spend their time catering to men.”
“So find a man who isn’t a jerk like Eric.”
Like that was so easy. “I didn’t know Eric was a jerk when we started going out.” She gritted her teeth to keep from listing all his jerkish traits for about the eleven millionth time.
“And you’re still letting him yank your chain. Gwen, honey, it’s time to move on.”
“I have. By—my—self. Seriously. I’m through with men. Don’t need ’em.”
“Sure you do.” Laurie gave her an infuriating smile.
“Why? I’ve got a job, a nice apartment, a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and a vibrator—why do I need a man?”
Laurie snickered. “Uh…companionship?”
“I’ll make a note to myself to get a dog—they’re not as much trouble.”
“Okay, then…” Laurie drew herself up, physically preparing to deliver the coup de grâce to the conversation. “Children.” She sat back and waited for Gwen’s reaction.
“They take longer to housebreak than dogs. And men.”
“Such cynicism does not become you.” Laurie signaled and took the Westheimer exit off the 610 loop.
“Sure it does. I’ve practiced a world-weary expression that makes me look attractively sophisticated.” Gwen demonstrated.
Stopping at the traffic light gave Laurie time to study her. “You’ll get wrinkles.”
“That’s what Botox injections are for.”
Laurie looked disgusted—an expression that Gwen couldn’t help noticing would give her frown lines. She decided not to mention it.
“So you’re not going to wear the skirt.”
The skirt again. “Oh, I’ll wear it. I’m just not going to go manhunting in it.”
“I can’t believe you’re being so selfish. You said your friend, Kate, has to catch it after you, if she’s still single. But after her, it’ll be a free-for-all grab and I want an invitation to that wedding.”
“You’re that desperate for a man?”
“As I understand it, the skirt attracts lots of men before true love wins out. What fun.” Laurie sighed.
What had happened to the independent, competent, take-no-prisoners Laurie she worked with? “Our fore-mothers would be appalled to hear this conversation. Your mother would be appalled to hear this conversation. What about all the struggling, protesting and fighting for equal rights, and burning bras—”
“Like that did anything but give them sagging boobs.”
“—so their daughters—we—could have a choice in how we live our lives?”
Laurie shrugged and turned into Gwen’s apartment complex. “So I’m choosing to live it with a man.”
“And I’m choosing not to.”
Laurie slid a look at her. “You’ve done a real good job of getting the word out, because I haven’t noticed that many men around that you could choose not to have a life with.”
Gwen bristled. “Then you haven’t been looking.”
“Really? When was the last time a man asked you for a date?”
“Well, I—”
“Not business-related, just you and an eligible man—meaning he’s single, uninvolved, straight and looking.”
“Looking for what?”
“Involvement at some level.”
“Does superficial involvement count?” Gwen asked cynically.
“In your case, yes. So when?”
Gwen smiled in triumph. “Remember Paddy O’Brien’s cousin?”
“The Paddy O’Brien who owns the Shamrock pub?”
Gwen nodded. “When his cousin was visiting from Ireland over St. Patrick’s Day, Paddy set us up for the green beer party.”
Laurie was silent a moment. “You can’t get much more superficial than that.”
“Hey!”
“Even allowing for blind dates—”
“It wasn’t a blind date. He was working the bar when we stopped in earlier that week. Remember those Irish coffees?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Is that all you can say? You had three.”
“And haven’t had another since.” Laurie managed to find a parking space across the alley drive from Gwen’s apartment. She parked, then leveled a look at her. “You’re counting hanging around a guy during a green beer party as a date?”
“Sure am.”
“But he didn’t take you anywhere, spend any money on you and you certainly weren’t alone, not to mention the possibility that he might have had an Irish colleen stashed away in the motherland, which I guess really doesn’t matter because you never saw him again.”
Gwen sighed. “No muss, no fuss. Perfect, wasn’t he?”
“But Gwen…how can you not want to date anybody?”
“Because dating leads to relationships.”
“You wish.”
“No, I don’t wish. My life is just fine the way it is, thank you very much. And you should be encouraging me. I’ve recognized the pattern of my mistakes and I’m trying to break the cycle.”
“But breaking the cycle doesn’t mean giving up all men—just the wrong ones.”
Gwen threw up her hands. “But I can’t seem to figure out how to avoid the wrong ones until it’s too late!”
“Isn’t that what the skirt’s for?”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “Forget the skirt.”
“I don’t want to forget the skirt. Things have changed since the last time you swam a few laps in the dating pool.”
“Men have stopped being self-centered?”
“That’s an attractive self-confidence.”
“Do they still act like they’re at an all-you-want sex buffet?”
“More and more are into à la carte.”
“From the same menu? For ever and ever?”
“You just came back from a wedding!”
“And most important—will they share dessert?”
Laurie gave her a puzzled look. “I’ve lost the analogy.”
Gwen wasn’t surprised. “Relationships require give and take and I got tired of being the one doing all the giving. I keep promising myself that each time will be different and then…” She shrugged. “So no more men.”
“Okay, fine. Just wear the skirt until some guy asks you out, then pass it on to another deserving woman before you reject him.”
“It’s supposed to be thrown at a wedding, remember? Kate has to have it next.”
Laurie grinned. “And I’d be happy to take it to her. Let me see it before you go.”
“Whatever.”
They both got out of the car and Gwen shrugged out of her coat, grateful for the mild Texas weather after frigid New York. Laurie opened the trunk and Gwen unzipped her suitcase. The skirt was right on top.
Laurie reached for the folded skirt and shook it out. “It’s just a black skirt,” she said with disappointment. “I wonder why men are attracted to it.” She eyed Gwen speculatively. “Wear it to my New Year’s Eve party. We’ll test it then.”
