“Sometimes guys are mean to girls they like,” Ivy teased.
“That’s sexist bullshit,” I said flatly.
“And some girls are mean to guys they like,” she added knowingly.
“I wasn’t mean to him,” I hissed.
“You threw coffee all over him and were acting like an angry, possessive ferret through the whole meeting,” Ivy retorted.
I stewed on her words as I handed Liz her ice cream.
“Thanks! I really shouldn’t, but I’m a nervous wreck,” she said as she took a big bite.
“You’re growing a baby,” I assured her. “You get a pass on all the things that make you happy and stress free.”
“I do eat a large salad every day,” Liz said defensively.
“We at Weddings in the City are not here to judge you,” I assured her.
* * *
Liz leftafter I showed her the sketches of the options for dresses that I was working on. I made notes of her suggestions and comments so I could go home and work on a mock-up of each of the three options I had come up with. I needed to test everything before I started sewing the actual dress.
“The only problem with being a maid of honor,” I said as I gathered up my sketchbooks and sewing bag, “is that I missed a lot of the daylight today.”
“Why don’t you just move in here?” Sophie suggested. She had brought in a new cake recipe she was trying, and after sending Liz home with a generous piece, she made us all try it and give her copious notes.
“I sprawl,” I said with a grimace. “You’ve been to my—well my parents’—apartment.”
Sophie was practically jumping up and down. “You don’t sound all that excited to go back there.”
“I’m not,” I admitted. “But I think there are some Rice Krispies treats left.”
“Boo! That’s not exciting.”
“I mean, they’re chocolate Rice Krispies,” I said, hefting my large sewing bag.
“You know what’s better than Rice Krispies treats?” Sophie said conspiratorially.
“Cake?”
“Men!” my friend said excitedly. “There’s a speed-dating event in Midtown. I signed us up!”
I made a face.
“Come on! You’re always listening to those romance books. Now’s a chance to see a real live penis in the wild.”
“I saw a wild penis on the subway recently,” I said as we took the elevator down. “It belonged to a crazy homeless man who was spouting off about the end of the world.”
“This is a high-end speed-dating event,” Sophie cajoled. “The penises will all be attached to well-groomed, good-looking, preferably rich men. What do you say?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Wanna go dick shopping?”
* * *
“I can’t believeyou talked me into this!” I complained when we stood in the doorway of the fancy bar. I glanced up at the menu and wheezed. “What kind of cocktail costs twenty dollars?”
“Just order a seltzer water and ask them to put a lime in it,” Sophie suggested.
“I’m going to need alcohol to make it through this madness,” I told her.
