semi-fashionable ensemble, strode out the door and slammed it shut behind her.
For the first time ever in Elizabeth Daniels’s personal history, she was going out on the town, and maybe, if she played her cards right, she’d pick up a man while she was at it.
* * * * *
ELIZABETH sniffed the air of Hauser’s Grill and Ale. Wisconsin’s Garden Spot, this wasn’t. Budweiser’s Basement was more like it but, though she’d made no promises to herself to stay late, she did vow she’d give the experience at least thirty minutes. How hard could it be to have a few drinks, meet a few people and, maybe, make out with some guy that she’d probably never see again? Other women did stuff like this all the time.
She bravely marched up to the bar and placed her order. White wine. She just couldn’t go for the hard stuff. Imagine her drinking scotch or whiskey or bourbon!
No. Now that was the problem right there.
She should be able to imagine herself doing anything she darn well pleased. Maybe she’d work her way up to a martini next. Or maybe she’d settle for a rum and Coke. But if she wanted to try a Brandy Alexander, who was going to stop her?
“Lizzy Daniels?”
Elizabeth turned. The not-so-sweet voice belonged to the not-so-sweet mouth of the not-at-all-sweet Tara Welles.
“What are you doing here?” Tara inquired, her razor-thin eyebrows raised like mini-boomerangs, waiting for the answer to come back to her.
“W-Wine,” she said. “Very thirsty.” And, to underscore her point, she took a long sip. “Mmm.”
Tara swept her sneering glance from side-to-side, in search of something. “Is Rob here with you? I haven’t seen him tonight.”
“Nope.”
Tara’s beady little blue eyes brightened. Well, no. That was a lie. They weren’t actually beady. They weren’t actually little either. They were big, round, blue…
“Well, where is he?”
…like dinosaur eggs, of the Tyrannosaurus Rex variety.
“C-Couldn’t tell you,” she said before taking another swig of wine. Yeah, where was he? What “stuff” was he doing tonight? Not that she had any hold on him or any say in where he went or what he did, but she was curious. In an Old High School Friend sort of way.
Ah. That was a lie, too.
Tara, dressed in a skintight jungle-print miniskirt and a sage-green blouse, took a couple of slithery steps forward on her spike-heeled sandals.
“You need to stop monopolizing him,” she hissed. “I’ve seen him at your uncles’ shop, you know. And every time I ask him about his plans for the night, he says he has to do something with you. I can tell it’s some kind of chore you’ve concocted to get him to go out with you.”
Elizabeth drained her wineglass and ordered a martini. “Really?” she said through gritted teeth.
“You’ve always been so transparent, Lizzy. Having a crush on Roberto Gabinarri. Honey, he wouldn’t seriously go for someone like you in this or any other lifetime.”
The truth, Elizabeth thought, always hurt just a little more when it was about something you prayed you could keep hidden. She chewed the olive from her martini and regarded the terrible lizard standing before her.
“A-Appreciate your insight, T-Tara.”
“Hey, Elizabeth! Over here.”
She turned to see, of all people, Maria-Louisa waving at her from a table in the corner. Never had Rob’s considerate sister-in-law felt more dear to her than at that moment, even if the woman was sitting with a group of six strangers who were bound to make Elizabeth nervous.
“Hi,” she called back in her cheeriest, most confident voice and took a healthy gulp of her second drink. Alcohol. Definitely helpful in situations like these.
“Come join us!” Maria-Louisa shouted over the din of country-western music. To emphasize the invitation further, she motioned with not one, but both hands. “It’s Rob’s girlfriend,” she explained loudly to her group of friends, and soon all of them were calling her
For the first time ever in Elizabeth Daniels’s personal history, she was going out on the town, and maybe, if she played her cards right, she’d pick up a man while she was at it.
* * * * *
ELIZABETH sniffed the air of Hauser’s Grill and Ale. Wisconsin’s Garden Spot, this wasn’t. Budweiser’s Basement was more like it but, though she’d made no promises to herself to stay late, she did vow she’d give the experience at least thirty minutes. How hard could it be to have a few drinks, meet a few people and, maybe, make out with some guy that she’d probably never see again? Other women did stuff like this all the time.
She bravely marched up to the bar and placed her order. White wine. She just couldn’t go for the hard stuff. Imagine her drinking scotch or whiskey or bourbon!
No. Now that was the problem right there.
She should be able to imagine herself doing anything she darn well pleased. Maybe she’d work her way up to a martini next. Or maybe she’d settle for a rum and Coke. But if she wanted to try a Brandy Alexander, who was going to stop her?
“Lizzy Daniels?”
Elizabeth turned. The not-so-sweet voice belonged to the not-so-sweet mouth of the not-at-all-sweet Tara Welles.
“What are you doing here?” Tara inquired, her razor-thin eyebrows raised like mini-boomerangs, waiting for the answer to come back to her.
“W-Wine,” she said. “Very thirsty.” And, to underscore her point, she took a long sip. “Mmm.”
Tara swept her sneering glance from side-to-side, in search of something. “Is Rob here with you? I haven’t seen him tonight.”
“Nope.”
Tara’s beady little blue eyes brightened. Well, no. That was a lie. They weren’t actually beady. They weren’t actually little either. They were big, round, blue…
“Well, where is he?”
…like dinosaur eggs, of the Tyrannosaurus Rex variety.
“C-Couldn’t tell you,” she said before taking another swig of wine. Yeah, where was he? What “stuff” was he doing tonight? Not that she had any hold on him or any say in where he went or what he did, but she was curious. In an Old High School Friend sort of way.
Ah. That was a lie, too.
Tara, dressed in a skintight jungle-print miniskirt and a sage-green blouse, took a couple of slithery steps forward on her spike-heeled sandals.
“You need to stop monopolizing him,” she hissed. “I’ve seen him at your uncles’ shop, you know. And every time I ask him about his plans for the night, he says he has to do something with you. I can tell it’s some kind of chore you’ve concocted to get him to go out with you.”
Elizabeth drained her wineglass and ordered a martini. “Really?” she said through gritted teeth.
“You’ve always been so transparent, Lizzy. Having a crush on Roberto Gabinarri. Honey, he wouldn’t seriously go for someone like you in this or any other lifetime.”
The truth, Elizabeth thought, always hurt just a little more when it was about something you prayed you could keep hidden. She chewed the olive from her martini and regarded the terrible lizard standing before her.
“A-Appreciate your insight, T-Tara.”
“Hey, Elizabeth! Over here.”
She turned to see, of all people, Maria-Louisa waving at her from a table in the corner. Never had Rob’s considerate sister-in-law felt more dear to her than at that moment, even if the woman was sitting with a group of six strangers who were bound to make Elizabeth nervous.
“Hi,” she called back in her cheeriest, most confident voice and took a healthy gulp of her second drink. Alcohol. Definitely helpful in situations like these.
“Come join us!” Maria-Louisa shouted over the din of country-western music. To emphasize the invitation further, she motioned with not one, but both hands. “It’s Rob’s girlfriend,” she explained loudly to her group of friends, and soon all of them were calling her
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