Lead Me On

“So everyone knows that poor me, the lowly caterer and not the Paula Deen she aimed to be back when she majored in home ec, can’t afford a decent wedding? And her fiancé is only a small-estate manager, not the business mogul he wanted to become, so that means they can’t possibly afford even fancy flower arrangements?” She laughed. “I suppose that’s not too embarrassing.”

Margot glanced at Leigh again. Whoops.

Leigh seemed just as helpless as Margot as she peeled away the label of her beer. “Can I just put things in perspective and volunteer that Margot’s video is going to take all the ‘embarrassing’ out of the reunion for you, Dan? That’s what everyone’ll be talking about.”

To Leigh’s credit, she was merely doing her best. Margot followed suit.

“Once again, Leigh, thanks so much.” She smiled at Dani. “No one thinks you’re destitute. It’s only that your wedding plans were legendary in the sorority. Hell, your nickname during pledging was ‘Hearts.’ We’d talk about getting together for the ceremony someday and how it’d be a time when we could all celebrate together.”

“It was going to be a milestone,” Leigh added.

Margot went on, and it was just like the old days, when she would get a lightbulb idea going and Leigh would join in, eventually followed by Dani.

“The wedding is as much for us as it is for you,” she said. “It means everything because you’re marrying the guy from our counterpart fraternity, and everyone knew you were going to get together with him even before the two of you knew it. It’s a big deal for all of us Rhos and Taus.”

Dani finally smiled, probably because of the memories.

Times like the spring-break trip to Cabo—a Bacchanalia that had sworn Margot, Leigh and Dani off booze for...well, weeks. It had been just one of many adventures they’d shared as sorority sisters and Margot would never forget them. The three of them had grown up together during some very pivotal years, then tossed their graduation caps in the air as one, letting them rain down with the joy of exploring all the roads ahead.

Back then, Margot had nursed so many ambitions—to travel the world, to write books—and she’d done all of it in the time from there to here.

But dreams could last only so long.

She ate the maraschino cherry in her Midori Sour, yet it didn’t taste as good as it used to—not after the bad news she’d gotten last month about how her latest “single girl on the go” travel book had done.

Or, more to the point, hadn’t done.

As usual, Margot tried not to show how upset she was. She’d been keeping the news to herself that her publishing company hadn’t wanted to go to contract after she closed out this most recent book. Surely something else was bound to come along.

Wouldn’t it?

Dani was talking. “But...I still don’t know about raising money for my wedding.”

Leigh said, “Don’t they have money dances at receptions? We’d just be doing the asking before the wedding.”

“Besides, it’s not any old auction,” Margot was quick to add, dangling the cherry stem between her fingers. “This is something everyone will love. A basket auction, just like they used to do in the old days at picnics. You know, when the girls packed a lunch in a basket and tied a telltale ribbon around the handle so the boy she was crushing on would know it was hers and take her out?”

“Days of innocence,” Leigh said in her ranch-girl drawl. Country-singer cool, she rested her free arm over the top of the booth. She seemed as down-to-earth as they came—if you didn’t know her very well. Leigh was the type to come off as earthy, even though she was a rising star at The Food Network with a new show that Margot could describe only as “sensuous farmhouse cooking”—like putting Faith Hill in Martha Stewart’s kitchen.

For a second, Margot could almost see her friends as they used to be: Leigh, forty pounds heavier, laughing at the nickname—“Cushions”—that everyone had given her, even while inside, Margot knew, Leigh hadn’t found it so hilarious. And Dani, a home ec major like Leigh, known as the romantic “Hearts,” who used to love matchmaking at the dinner parties she put together.

But Margot had them beat. She’d been an endangered species on their rural San Joaquin Valley campus—an English major among all the agricultural business majors and local cowboys and cowgirls. She’d never minded standing out, though. Leigh, who’d been her dorm roomie, and Dani, who’d lived down the hall, had talked Margot into joining Tau Epsilon Gamma, and she’d never regretted a day of it.

Even if her parents hadn’t been quite as excited.

Sororities are for girls who’ll never find a day of independence in their lives, her dad had said. Don’t you want to have a mind of your own?

Of course she did, but joining the Taus hadn’t quashed the free spirit her hippy-minded parents had raised her to be as they’d moved from town to town, “experiencing all life has to offer.” They’d take temporary jobs and then one day jerk her out of school before she could find a best friend. Sometimes she’d wondered if they cared about how she fit into their whole “see the world!” philosophy...or if she’d just been one more item on their bucket lists.

But she’d found a whole lot of friends all on her own, thank you very much.

And that’s what mattered.

Margot searched Dani’s gray-hued gaze. Was her friend about to come around to the idea of the auction? She and Leigh hadn’t meant to mortify her; when Dani had told them during their own private yearly get-together a few months ago that she and Riley couldn’t afford the wedding she’d been planning since she was a little girl, it’d looked as if her heart was about to break.

Or was Dani going to tell them to go to hell?

“Dani,” Margot said, reaching across the table to enclose her hand, which rested by her untouched wine spritzer. “We can call off the auction if you want. Really.”

Leigh looked as if she was holding her breath, clearly just as torn about this. Since she’d lost weight last year, she’d made a pact with Margot to be more adventurous than ever. Hence, this basket thing. Even though she’d always seemed confident, she hadn’t been anywhere near it. Now, though, Leigh was different, and she was going to take her new attitude into the bedroom for the very first time in her life with this auction. She’d vowed to do things like making love with the lights on and playing all the bedroom games she’d never allowed herself to play.

And Margot... Well, she was pretty much already one of those girls, never settling into a relationship, since there was so much to do out in the world, so much to see and experience. Putting together a sinful basket would be one more adventure for the adventuress—and it’d be a way to say “See? That damned YouTube video isn’t going to cow me” to whoever had posted it.

Clint?

Truthfully, there was a bonus in the basket auction. This weekend would also be a chance to reconnect with her old boyfriend, Brad, maybe relive some good old times....

Margot stopped herself. These days, she wasn’t as confident as everyone thought. She felt like a real failure at the moment, with her less-than-bestselling books.

Most Likely to Succeed?

Not so much anymore. But she was damned if she was going to let anyone see the self-doubt. Nope—she had taken the lead in putting together this auction, and she wanted it to go off without a hitch, video or no. She would do it for Dani’s sake and...

Well, to let everyone know that nothing was going to get her down.

“Dani?” Leigh asked. “Do you want us to cancel the auction?”

A second passed, and Margot maintained her poker face, even as her heart beat against her ribs.

But then Dani smiled. “I’d hate to ruin anyone’s fun....”

“I knew you’d be on board,” Leigh said, beaming.

Margot raised her drink, even though she thought she still detected some reluctance in Dani. “To a hell of an auction, then?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Leigh toasted, too. “Then again, I’ve got the feeling we’ll be drinking to a lot of thats this weekend.”

Dani brought her spritzer glass up as well, and they all clinked, then threw their drinks down the hatch.

When they finished, Margot noticed that the room was filling up. Businessmen cluttered the mahogany bar, loosening their ties and glancing around.

When the waitress stopped by to check on the three women, Leigh ordered another round of drinks. Then the server went to the next booth, the occupant obscured by the strip of stained glass edging the top of the seats.

Obviously, someone had slipped in, unnoticed, during their conversation, because the waitress took that order, too. Couldn’t be anyone they knew, Margot thought, or they would’ve said hi.

“So, Margot,” Leigh began, “how about that Around the Girl in Eighty Ways basket?”

“What, are you going to steal ideas from me?” Margot asked playfully.