The One-Week Wife. Patricia Kay
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this unwelcome heat, she needed to put herself together again before facing the Debs, some of whom were way too perceptive. Of course, no one had to know where she’d been earlier today. In fact, she absolutely did not want them to know, because the last subject she wanted to discuss, in front of Emma or anyone else, was Reed.
After repairing her makeup and repositioning her violet rhinestone butterfly hair clip, Felicity felt ready to make her appearance.
Walking past the Emerald Room’s malachite bar, she waved to Harry, the bartender, who waved back, and headed straight for the table where she and the other Debs always sat.
Sure enough, two of them were already there—Emma, wearing a powder-blue dress that set off her silky black hair and violet eyes, and Lily Miller Cartwright, who was now seven months pregnant and radiant in a yellow maternity dress that hugged her rounded belly.
Felicity used the few moments before her friends noticed her approach to study them. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy at the happiness evident on both faces. A happiness caused by being deeply in love and knowing they were loved back.
But I don’t want to be married. I don’t even want a long-term commitment. So why am I envious because they’ve both found their soul mates?
Just then, Lily turned and saw her. “Felicity!” she exclaimed, giving her a beaming smile.
“Hi, Fee,” said a quieter Emma.
As Felicity leaned down to kiss first Lily, then Emma, she wondered at Emma’s more restrained greeting. Was it possible she suspected something about Felicity’s whereabouts today? Her inappropriate feelings for Reed? Was she even now wondering if Felicity had harbored those feelings all along, even when Emma and Reed had been engaged?
Oh, don’t be ridiculous! How could she possibly suspect anything? That’s just your guilty conscience bothering you.
Besides, Felicity thought, even if Emma did suspect something, why would she care now? She hadn’t wanted Reed. She’d wanted Garrett. And Felicity had absolutely no interest in Garrett Keating. But even after telling herself this, she still felt uncomfortable. After the debacle with Sam, she hated deception of any kind, even when it was rooted in an omission rather than an outright lie.
Telling herself to chill, Felicity sat next to Emma and when their waiter approached, ordered a glass of her favorite German Riesling, then joined in the conversation, which centered around an upcoming baby shower for Lily.
“It’s being hosted by Jack’s cousin Jennifer,” Lily said happily. She absently pushed an errant strand of curly auburn hair under her yellow headband. With her blue eyes and bright coloring, she could have been the model for a Botticelli painting.
“I hope we’re all going to be invited,” Felicity said brightly.
Lily gave her a look of incredulity. “Of course you are! How could you even think I wouldn’t want all the Debs Club there?”
Just then, Vanessa Thorpe and Abby Talbot, the last two members of their group who were joining today’s lunch, arrived together. Both young women were immaculately turned out—Vanessa in the same shade of green as her eyes and Abby in white, which set off her beautiful tan and long blond hair. Felicity hadn’t seen much of Abby since her mother’s funeral earlier in the summer, and she wondered how Abby was doing.
Kisses, hugs and compliments flew while the newcomers settled themselves and ordered glasses of wine. Once they’d had a chance to briefly study the menu—they met here for lunch so often they’d practically memorized it—the five women ordered. Mostly they stuck to salads, fish, or chicken, although Lily—laughing—said she didn’t care, she was going to have pasta today. “After the baby comes, I’ll have to say goodbye to carbs. Might as well enjoy myself while I can.”
“Knowing you, you’ll be back into a size four before that kid’s a month old,” Vanessa said.
“I’ve never worn a size four in my life,” Lily said.
“Well, six, then.”
“Eight’s more like it.”
“Listen to her,” Vanessa said.
“Oh, she’s just trying to make the rest of us feel better,” Abby quipped.
“Like you’re fat or something,” Vanessa shot back.
Felicity sat back and enjoyed the banter. She loved these get-togethers with the Debs. They were all terrific women and had become loyal friends who had supported and encouraged her through her problems with Sam.
Even Abby had been loyal, although that mother of hers had had a field day writing about Sam’s desertion and the loss of Felicity’s inheritance. Felicity had long wondered how a mother and daughter could be so different, for Abby rarely gossiped. Maybe she’d had enough of it growing up with Bunny.
After their orders had been placed, the conversation turned to Emma’s relationship with Garrett, or more accurately, the breakup with Reed.
“How’s Reed taking the news?” Vanessa asked.
Emma shrugged. “I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since I broke the engagement,” she confessed.
Vanessa grimaced. “Poor Reed. He’s probably brokenhearted.”
“I hope not,” Emma said. She bit her lip.
Emma was tenderhearted, and Felicity knew she’d truly cared for Reed and wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer.
“Have any of you seen him?” Emma asked, looking around the table.
The question unsettled Felicity. She didn’t want to reveal that she’d seen him, because she was afraid that in talking about their meetings she might give away her feelings, yet she hated deceiving Emma. So she pushed back from the table. “Sorry, I’ve got to visit the ladies’. Now, don’t talk about me when I’m not here to defend myself.”
They all laughed.
She would stay away just long enough to let the conversation move to another subject. Unfortunately, when she entered the ladies’ room, Felicity almost turned around and walked right out, because standing in front of the large mirror in the outer lounge area was Delia Forrester, one of Felicity’s least favorite people.
“Felicity! Darling, it’s been too long,” Delia exclaimed. For some unknown reason, the woman had taken a shine to Felicity, almost as if she thought they were two of a kind.
Felicity forced herself to smile and say pleasantly, “Hello, Delia.” Although she detested the woman, she saw no point in openly antagonizing her. “How are you?”
“I’m absolutely wonderful.” Delia patted her dyed platinum pageboy, which was always perfectly coiffed.
Why was it people seemed to love platinum-blond so much? Didn’t they realize the dyed version looked completely fake? Felicity looked in the mirror at her own natural platinum hair color with satisfaction.
“And what about you, dear? I know you must be run ragged these days, what with the Townsend wedding and the Newhouse wedding and the Dearborn-Kelly cancellation, not to mention all that committee work.”
This last was said disparagingly, because Delia was not a part of any of the charities or club committees that the Debs were involved in. Felicity nastily wondered if that was because she knew the other women would not let her run roughshod over them as she was wont to do.
“I’m managing just fine,” Felicity said. Her tone didn’t invite further comment. Taking lip gloss out of her handbag, she applied a fresh coat.
Delia, however, was too obtuse to take the hint. “I’m just shocked that your supposed friend Emma would do that to you.”
Felicity frowned. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” She closed the tube of lip gloss and dropped it back into her handbag.
“Oh, come on, Felicity. Why,