Striptease

She stepped back an arm’s length. “Sorry. Intimidation doesn’t work with me. But it does raise an interesting question.”

“Shoot.”

“Just who exactly is dealing with control issues here, Faulkner. Me?” She arched a cool brow. “Or you?”

August…

“OKAY, LADIES. Let’s hurry this up. We need to get back to business.”

CEO Sydney Ford’s admonition to the gIRL-gEAR partners had become as much a part of their weekly meetings as had the gossip that precipitated the warning.

But with Lauren so recently back from her honeymoon to Ireland, the seven girls had much catching up to do, multiple trip photos to pass around and many souvenir gifts to unwrap.

Lauren had already given Melanie an extravagant thank-you gift of a bed-and-breakfast weekend for managing the details of the wedding video.

So being handed a tiny box wrapped in silver paper came as an unexpected surprise.

“Lauren, you are totally out of control,” Melanie said, while pulling the tape from one end of the neatly wrapped package. “I didn’t expect you to bring me back anything.”

Sitting to Melanie’s right, Lauren leaned back in the conference room chair like a blue-eyed, blond elf on a mission from Santa himself. A huge marquis diamond glittered from her platinum wedding band when she waved an encompassing hand over the rest of the women in the room. “Just spreading the joy of the season.”

“What season? It’s August. It’s Houston. And I don’t find the combination particularly joyous,” Melanie said, cringing as Kinsey Gray, gIRL-gEAR’s fashion authority, squealed from the other end of the table.

Lauren crossed her legs and admired her wedding set against the background of her cream linen slacks. “The bridal season, of course. A June bride. A July honeymoon. And now an August newlywed. A wife.” Lauren sighed.

Her marriage-induced bliss had Melanie rolling her eyes as she pulled the gift box free from the tape and the paper. “Not trying to burst your euphoric bubble here, but the newlywed part will eventually wear off and you’ll be a wife long past August. At least I hope that’s the plan.”

“Are you kidding? Anton is stuck with me for years and years to come.”

Kinsey’s squeals grew louder as she scurried to Lauren’s end of the table to deliver a personal hug and thank-you for the delicate Celtic Claddagh pendant draped over her hand. “Lauren, you’re the best. I can’t believe you were shopping for us when you had Anton all to yourself. I never would’ve left the room. Shoot, I’d have kept Anton tied naked to the bed.”

“Who said he went shopping with me? Or that I even let him borrow more than a corner of my suitcase?” Lauren’s grin was as prurient as it was wide. “All he needed was room for a few nice strong silk ties.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Macy Webb, content editor for the gIRL-gEAR Web site, showed off a toe ring and matching ankle bracelet with green stones in their Celtic knot centers. “Anton obviously did the shopping and only let Lauren borrow a corner of his suitcase for her battery supply.”

“Batteries?” The newest partner and current vice president of cosmetics and accessories, Annabel “Poe” Lee, toyed with the white ribbon she’d yet to pull from her gift. “A month alone with Anton Neville and you packed batteries? What is wrong with this picture?”

Melanie worked the paper loose from her present, holding her breath and hoping no one would mention the fact that when Lauren and Anton split up last year, he’d spent those few weeks dating Poe.

And though Melanie hadn’t been along on the group vacation where the two feuding lovers got their act back together, she’d heard through the grapevine that Poe had laid her intentions to pursue Anton on the line—the very wake-up call Lauren had needed.

“Poe, we really are going to have to find you a man.” Still dealing with the initial craziness of launching the gUIDANCE gIRL mentoring program, Chloe Zuniga diffused the bomb. “You’ve clearly been too long without or you would remember how much fun you can have with a man and a vibrator at the same time.”

“Speaking from personal experience, Chloe dear?” Poe’s bow-shaped mouth remained unsmiling even as her dark, almond-shaped eyes glittered brightly.

“Yes, Eric and I have a great sex life, thanks for asking.” Chloe gave her one-time nemesis, now very good friend, a withering look, then blew Lauren a thank-you kiss and fastened a pink quartz bracelet around her wrist. “But I’m talking about Lauren and Anton.”

“Hey, now.” Lauren frowned. “I’m not sure everyone needs to know the details of my married sex life.”

“As if it’s any different than your single sex life,” Macy teased, looping the slender silver chain around her ankle.

“You might want to be careful there, Ms. Webb.” Lauren leaned across the conference room table and arched both shapely brows. “I doubt there’s a ladies’ room in the city that hasn’t witnessed your Mr. Redding dropping his pants.”

From the head of the room, Sydney groaned. “Must we talk about Leo’s…pants?”

“Or his lack thereof?” Melanie pushed her glasses up her nose and laughed. “You need to learn to knock, Syd. That’ll save you from any future, uh, exposure should Macy and Leo decide they can’t wait till they get home.”

“Last year’s open house incident was enough, Mel. I really didn’t need the reminder.” Sydney cringed while draping her new hand-painted silk scarf over one shoulder. “Now, I hate to be the bad guy here, but are we almost finished?”

“C’mon, Syd. How often do we get to marry off a partner?” Chloe asked.

“That’s the first thing I want to talk about. These last few months have been insane with the never-ending showers and the bachelorette party and the wedding and Lauren out for a month-long honeymoon. So…” Sydney paused, made sure she had everyone’s attention “…no more weddings allowed. With, of course, the exception of my marriage to Ray.”

“Sydney!”

“Oh my gawd! Ray proposed!”

“When?”

Sydney waved off the burst of rapid-fire comments. “No date. No date. Just…eventually. But the rest of you can forget it. The company can’t afford but one or two of these extended vacations.”

“Hear, hear,” Melanie seconded.

She pulled the last of the wrapping from her box as, with a twist of her mouth, Sydney went on to add, “And now that Ray has popped the question, I’m calling dibs on the second—”

“Lauren! This is absolutely gorgeous! Oh, Syd, I’m sorry. But this…” Melanie really hadn’t meant to shriek, or to cut off the boss, but she’d opened Lauren’s gift and…and…this was totally unreal! “I can’t believe it. I know this sculptor, and you spent way too much money.”

“No, I didn’t,” Lauren stated, as Melanie turned the frosted-glass figurine over and around in her hands. “I found it in a tiny antique shop. A secondhand place. I don’t think they knew what they had. But I knew you had to have it.”

The female nude was sculpted in the style of Lalique. The piece was absolutely exquisite, the woman kneeling with her hands spread over her belly beneath her bare breasts, her head tossed back and her eyes closed.

Yet it fit in the palm of Melanie’s hand. “You know I’m going to kill myself if I break this before I get it home.”

Lauren grinned. “If it made it safely all the way from Ireland, I imagine you can make it from here to Midtown.”

The rest of the women got up to see the delicate piece of glasswork, oohing and aahing in appreciation, though no one could possibly value the representation the way Melanie did. “This is going to look so good in my shadow box.”

“Do you have nude men in your shadow box?” Poe pinned her black-marble-and-marcasite brooch to the collar of her jade-green silk blazer. “Or do you prefer women?”

Melanie refused to jump at Poe’s bait. “I know this may come as a shock, but I really do know what to do with a penis.”

“I don’t know, Mel.” Chloe got in line behind Poe to give Lauren a hug. “Things might’ve changed since last time you had one. Evolution moves faster than you do when it comes to the mating process. You’re putting in way too many hours at the office to have a love life.”

“Chloe’s right,” Poe unexpectedly added. “All work and no foreplay leads to burnout.”

“Very funny,” Melanie said, though it wasn’t funny at all because the conversation had brought Jacob Faulkner and his, uh, attributes to mind, and she’d thought about him too many times already since the wedding. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll wait for Sydney to get married before I go postal on all of you.”

Her joke fell curiously flat. Looking at the serious faces all around, Melanie realized her friends were truly concerned. How ridiculous! She was fine, though a bit disillusioned.