So after finding Scott’s socks and leaving a check for Johnny’s Pizza, I sprayed my extravagant updo with something akin to shellac and stepped into my sexpot dress. I had already put on a pair of delicious black-heeled sandals that tied at the ankle in anticipation of not being able to bend down once I was zipped into the dress. I trailed out of my closet into the bathroom, where Scott was securing his cuff links in the mirror. The man always looked spectacular in a tux, which made me sigh just a little, but I tucked away any tenderness I felt for him when I saw the box with the fox butt plug winking at me from his own open closet.
Okay, fine. It didn’t wink, but I could see the corner of the box, and it might as well have been laughing at me.
“Can you zip me?” I asked, clutching my dress to my bosom, because though the man had seen me without clothes a thousand times over, I would be damned if he ever saw my size-DD boobs ever again.
He turned and made a face. “Where did you get that dress?”
“Ruby.”
“Your assistant loaned you a dress?”
“No. She custom-made this dress for me. She has her own label. She’ll be famous one day.” A bit of an exaggeration, but I believed in my heart that Ruby’s talent for refashioning couture could take her places. I was determined for her, and besides, having a bit of a project in Ruby kept me from thinking about how my life was unraveling like a bad hemstitch.
Scott tugged the zipper up as I sucked in. “There ya go.”
I readjusted my breasts, wiggling snug into the creation, and then turned to my reflection in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.
I smiled at myself.
Scott was watching me, a glint in his eye. “You look good, Cricket.”
Smacking my red lips together and turning my head so I could see how my vintage updo made my neck look more elegant, I said, “I know.”
And then I grabbed the black Chanel evening bag my mother had loaned me and strolled out the door, leaving my husband staring at me bemusedly.
Twenty-five minutes later, we were stepping out of the Uber and onto the red carpet of the Municipal Auditorium where Elvis had once titillated young girls and Hank Williams had put the Louisiana Hayride on the map. The gorgeous art deco building had been transformed with arches swagged with champagne fabric, and so many twinkle lights a person couldn’t hide too many flaws. Thank goodness for Spanx and Botox, right?
“Oh. My. Gawd. Cricket,” someone punctuated beside me. I turned to find Susie Simmons’s eyes as wide as her husband’s nipples. Don’t judge me—I noticed how huge they were one day when I took Julia Kate to the club to swim. Let’s just say they were disturbingly large, just like his wife’s eyes. The rest of her was more forgotten scarecrow from her diet of sparkling water and air, so maybe that’s why her eyes were so big in her thin face. As to her husband’s large nipples, I’d have to chalk those up to genetics.
I turned to her with my normal society smile. “What?”
“What are you wearing, you daring bitch?” she drawled with a braying laugh. “You look like effing Marilyn Monroe. Oooooh, someone named Scott is getting lucky tonight.”
Scott chuckled and curved his arm around my waist. “That’s right, Suze. She’s all mine.”
I may have thrown up a little in my mouth.
Luckily, I saw Ty Walker and Ruby drive by. “Hey, Scott, go on in if you want. I see Ruby, and she doesn’t really know many people. I’m going to wait on her.”
“Fine by me,” he said, dropping the husbandly husband routine and jabbing a ticket at me. “I’ll be at the bar.”
I took the ticket and turned to wait for Ruby. Luckily, the weather had cooperated, and velvet dusk debuted a few stars and a gentle breeze that allowed for bared shoulders and showing off pedicures. Ty drove a BMW and looked nice in a navy tuxedo. But Ruby, when she emerged from the car, looked like a silent film actress. And I swear to Coco Chanel, everyone standing outside the event stopped talking and turned to stare.
She was an edgy, dramatic, dark Cinderella.
Just magnificent.
“Hey, Ruby,” I said, stepping up because for a moment she looked like a baby seal surrounded by hungry polar bears.
“Hey, Cricket,” she said, giving me a nervous smile.
“You look amazing,” I said as I hugged her, twining an arm around her waist, much as I would if she were my child, and walking her up the stairs. Ty walked behind us, giving me a smile when I glanced back. “Hey, Ty. Nice to see you again.”