All You Need Is Love (15 page)

Anton somewhat hesitantly agreed to join in, as did Becca and Olivia from Julia’s office. When no one else raised their hands, Lauren glared at the remaining bunch.

“Okay, maybe Upchuck Chick here can be excused,” she relented, indicating a still queasy Jada. “What about the rest of you wusses?”

Sasha only smiled serenely, not in the least bit intimidated by Lauren’s ballsy behavior. “I’ve got a class to teach tomorrow morning, plus my own practice to do first. If I show up with a hangover the entire yoga studio will be laughing at me. So I’ll stick to water, thanks.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What’s your excuse, Blondie?”

Tessa looked up nervously as Lauren stared at her. “Um, I’m not much of a drinker. And I’m already feeling a little bit tipsy.”

“Well, duh,” exclaimed Lauren. “Honey, that’s the point of being at a bachelorette party. Haven’t any of you heard the old saying ‘There are only two absolutes in life – friends and vodka – and the best times usually involve both’.” She frowned as Tessa continued to shake her head. “Oh, I get it now. You’re just afraid Big, Bad and British will be pissed off if you get a little drunk. Come on, Tessa, live it up for one night. I mean, what’s the worst Ian can do – tie you to the bed?”

Tessa’s blue eyes nearly doubled in size and her mouth hung open in shock, leaving Lauren to shake her head in exasperation and move on to her next unwilling participants.

She managed to cajole Sophie and Abby – the wife of Nathan’s friend Ryan and the current girlfriend of his co-worker Jake respectively – into joining. That left Julia – the bride-to-be and guest of honor.

The sisters stared at each other, both with an identically mutinous expression on their face.

“Come on, Jules,” persuaded Lauren. “This is your last week of freedom before you chain yourself to that suit and tie for all eternity. Have a few shots with your friends. Don’t be a wet blanket at your own bachelorette party, for God’s sake. Where’s your sense of adventure anyway? Do you remember our twenty-first birthday party? Not the one Mom and Dad threw us but when we drove into Monterey and - ”

Julia held up a hand in surrender. “Fine, I give in. Line ‘em up.”

Half an hour, and an untold number of vodka, tequila or Jägermeister shots later, there were only three women still standing – Lauren, of course, Angela, and Courtney. Everyone else had thrown in the towel, clutching either their head or their stomach – or both – and could only watch the three who were tough enough – or perhaps crazy enough – to hang in.

Angela shuddered as she pounded back another shot of vodka, wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand before belching loudly. “Okay. That’s it for me,” she croaked. “Think I’m out of practice.”

Then it was just Courtney and Lauren, both of whom were drinking tequila. Julia, who was holding on to the edge of her table in a feeble attempt to keep the room from spinning, tried to keep track of how many shots each woman drank but her addled brain kept losing count. Lauren was throwing evil looks at Courtney as the green-haired hipster continued to match her shot for shot. Julia couldn’t help but smirk when she noticed her tough as nails sister sway a little in her high heeled boots, while the shots she took seemed to be going down a little slower each time.

And then, astonishingly, Lauren grimaced at the sight of her re-filled shot glass and pushed it away.

“Much as it pains me to admit it, I’ve gotta quit,” she admitted reluctantly. “The last time I barfed was when I was six years old and a flu bug got the whole soccer team. So I choose to preserve my dignity and bow out gracefully. “

Courtney gave a whoop and leapt to her feet as she jumped up and down with glee. “I win! Woo hoo! What’s my prize?”

“Here.” Lauren grabbed her purse and pulled out a slightly crushed tiara made of silver foil and pink feathers. “You’re the Queen of the Party. Well, you and Anton, of course.”

Courtney plunked the tiara down on top of her mermaid colored hair triumphantly, posing for half a dozen cell phone pictures. And then, without even the slightest warning, she slumped into her chair and did a rather dramatic face plant onto the table.

Alarmed, Julia gave her a little shake, calling her name, and was relieved to hear her groan in protest. Courtney promptly turned her cheek in the other direction and began to snore – loudly.

Lauren was instantly protesting. “Hey, that is so uncool! The rules are very clear in a drinking contest – no puking, no falling asleep, and definitely no face planting. So since I’m still standing I win by default.”

Julia gave a little eye roll and immediately regretted it since the action only increased her dizziness. “Do you want me to get the tiara for you?”

Lauren waved a hand in dismissal. “Nah. Pink’s not my color. Besides, it sort of matches what Hipster Girl here is wearing.”

Julia eyed Courtney’s pink cheetah print hot pants and black fishnet top that she’d worn with opaque black tights and pink high top Converse. “In a really bizarre and rather disturbing sort of way, I guess. Now if only her hair was still dyed cotton candy pink like it was last month she’d really be color coordinated.”

Lauren studied the lanky, long-legged Courtney dubiously. “My concern is how we’re going to drag her cheetah-printed ass out to the limo.”

Knowing that they’d be bar-hopping all night, Julia had elected to hire a stretch limo to haul her posse around the streets of San Francisco. She’d even paid extra so that the driver would pick up and drop off each guest at their home.

“Maybe Anton could help us drag her out to the sidewalk,” Julia offered up hopefully.

Lauren had a scornful expression on her face. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not sure he’s strong enough to carry her purse.”

In the end, it was Lauren, Angela and Tessa who wound up half-dragging, half-carrying the semi-conscious Courtney out of the club and practically tossing her inside the limo. The driver – the same man who’d picked everyone up several hours earlier – shook his head in dismay.

“You ladies – er, sorry, sir,” he apologized to Anton, “all look like you’ve had a rough evening. Hope nobody is going to get sick. I just had this baby detailed a week ago.”

Lauren pointed an accusatory finger at Jada, who looked only slightly less green around the gills. “As long as that one stays next to an opened window we should be okay. And this one here –” she indicated a sprawled out, snoring Courtney – “will probably sleep until Monday. Otherwise, we’re good to go.”

The driver made his way around the city, dropping off each guest in front of their home. Everyone except Jada lived in the city, but she and Ryan were staying overnight at a hotel in Union Square.

“Thank God,” she confided to Julia. “Because there’s no way I could handle driving all the way to Palo Alto tonight. At least not without barfing all over Ryan’s car. And he’s as protective of that Tesla as he would be of a baby.”

At Courtney’s apartment in the Mission District, it took four of them plus Anton – who lugged her purse and held the door open – to get her inside.

Lauren was shaking her head in disbelief when they returned to the limo.

“She might be skinny but when you’re dead weight like she is right now, it’s not the easiest to move someone. Her roommate wasn’t home so I hope we dumped her in the right bedroom. And she’s still wearing that damned tiara. The one she didn’t really win.”

“Oh, but you forgot to bring up her goody bag,” Julia pointed out in dismay.

She had fussed over the party favor bags for weeks, searching online for ideas and little gifts, and had spent hours filling up the pink, white and black striped bags that bore the custom “Julia’s Bachelorette Party” logo emblazoned on the front.

Inside each bag was a wide variety of little gifts. There was the girly stuff – lip gloss, nail polish, a mini-manicure kit; the tasty stuff – foil wrapped chocolate squares, a cheesecake flavored cake pop, a mini bottle of pink champagne; the practical stuff – a small cloth bag labeled Hangover Kit that contained packets of Tylenol, breath mints, antacids and eye drops; and the naughty stuff – a blindfold, a lacy thong, furry handcuffs and a small bottle of massage oil. Everything, of course, was in varying shades of pink.

Lauren eyed the remaining bags in distaste. “When was it ever decreed that pink was a girl’s color? Thank God I stood my ground about the bridesmaid’s dresses. If I had left it up to you Angela and I would be looking like giant wads of cotton candy next weekend.”

Julia ignored her twin and carefully set aside one of the bags for Courtney. She’d make sure to bring it to the office on Monday for her, along with the bag she had at home for Robyn. She had tried her best – along with the other girls from the office – to persuade Nathan’s PA into coming along tonight but Robyn had gently refused.

“I appreciate the thought, Julia, truly I do,” the older woman had assured her. “But I’m way,
way
too old for that kind of thing any longer. Don’t forget that I’m only four years younger than your mother. So, thanks for the thought, sweetie, but dancing and drinking all night long are things that I can only dream about these days.”

The second to the last stop of the night was to let Tessa off in front of Ian’s palatial Pacific Heights mansion, and both Lauren and Angela let out a low whistle as the limo pulled up to the curb.

“Hot damn, girl, you really landed yourself a winner,” said Lauren in admiration, patting Tessa on the arm. “Hold on to that man for sure. Better yet,” she added with a wink, “use those handcuffs Jules put in everyone’s goody bag and chain him to your bed.”

For the second time that evening, Tessa blushed furiously and could only stammer a rather flustered good night as she exited the limo. Lauren was chuckling wickedly as they pulled away.

“Did you see the look on her face when I mentioned chaining her man to the bed? And when I made a little joke earlier tonight about Ian tying her up, she had the exact same reaction. Trust me,” she added with confidence, “those two get up to some kinky shit every so often.”

Julia eyed her twin with a scowl. “Honestly, Lauren? I mean, you’ve met Ian. He’s the most conservative, proper English gentleman you’d ever want to meet, while Tessa blushes at the drop of a hat.”

Lauren shrugged. “Everyone’s got a bit of a dark side, sis. Even those two. Trust me, I’ll betcha Ian trusses her up in not only the handcuffs but the blindfold and the thong, too.”

“Except those particular handcuffs are really just for show. They aren’t meant for BDSM play,” murmured Angela quietly. “Way too flimsy.”

Angela had been silent during the entire drive home, not even saying a word when she’d helped haul Courtney up the stairs to her apartment. Now, with her rather shocking, unexpected statement, Julia and Lauren could only stare at their friend in stunned silence.

Lauren found her voice first. “Uh, would you be speaking from experience there, Angie? Or have you just been watching too much porn?”

Angela gave Lauren a playful shove. “I haven’t watched porn since our senior year of high school when the soccer team would converge at Erica Lyman’s house after Friday practice and invade her parents’ collection. Now
that
was a couple who were into some kinky shit.”

Julia shuddered as she recalled the sordid tales Lauren had whispered to her about the various DVD’s and sex toys Erica’s parents had
tried
– most unsuccessfully – to hide from their daughter and her very inquisitive friends. “Okay, already feeling a little queasy over here. Let’s not talk about Mr. and Mrs. Lyman’s, uh, quirks tonight.”

Lauren kept her gaze steadily focused on Angela. “Fine. But I still want Angie to answer the question about the handcuffs.”

Angela’s dark eyes glittered dangerously. “Tough. Not going to happen. In fact, just forget I said anything.”

“Oh, like hell I will,” laughed Lauren. “You know me, girlfriend. I’ll keep at you like a dog with a bone until you answer me. Especially since this is the first time you’ve ever even hinted at that sort of thing. Was it seeing that big hunk of studly goodness tonight that finally loosened your tongue?”

Angela gasped, her eyes widening in alarm as both she and Julia stared at Lauren, who was looking way too smug for anyone’s liking.

“I, um, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela replied defiantly.

Lauren just looked amused. “Bullshit. You just think nobody noticed you arguing with Mr. Dark and Dangerous when we were at our second stop of the night. What’s his name, Angie? Did you know he was going to be there tonight? And is he the reason you’ve been so out of it all evening?”

Angela’s lips tightened into a hard, mutinous line. “Back off, Lauren. I’m not talking about it. Ever.”

But Lauren was a long, long way from being deterred. “He’s the one, isn’t he? The fucker who broke your heart three – no, it’s almost four years ago now, isn’t it? The one who broke
you
, Angie. Tell us his name. And more importantly why he’s suddenly showing up in your life again.”

“He’s
not
in my life again,” snarled Angela, her anger a blazing hot force to be reckoned with. “At least not that way. And his name isn’t important.
He’s
not important.”

Lauren gave a careless shrug. “Sure didn’t look that way to me. Jules – you should have seen this guy. Tall – even taller than Ian – and built like a tank. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes. He reminded me of the devil – a really well built, really good looking devil.”

Angela’s mouth was trembling now, her eyes filled with fear. “He
is
the devil,” she whispered brokenly. “And he’s trying to lure me back into hell.”

As the twins stared at her in mingled shock and horror, Angela gave herself a little shake and struggled visibly to regain her composure. She pointed a warning figure at Lauren.

“And the subject is now officially closed.
Closed
,” she emphasized when Lauren started to speak. “If you try talking about it again, I’ll call a taxi and go stay at a hotel. I mean it, Lauren. You need to butt out, okay?”

Angela’s voice was so filled with repressed rage that Lauren for once didn’t dare argue back and merely nodded. The remainder of the drive back home was passed in an uncomfortable silence, save for the occasional drunken hiccup that escaped Julia’s mouth despite her best efforts to suppress them.