first place.
I try to focus on Marcus. I stand near him, talk to him, laugh at his jokes. When he asks me to dance, I say yes without hesitation. I follow him onto the crowded dance floor. We work up a good sweat, dancing and laughing. I realize that although there is no great chemistry, I am having fun. And who knows? Maybe this will lead to something.
'They're dying to know what happened on our date,' Marcus says into my ear.
'Why do you say that?' I ask.
'Darcy inquired again.'
'She did?'
'Yup.'
'When?'
'Tonight. Right after we got here.'
I hesitate and then ask, 'Did Dex say anything?'
'No, but he was standing right next to her looking pretty darn interested.'
'Some nerve,' I say playfully.
'I know, the nosy bastards… And don't look now, but they're staring at us.' His face touches mine, his whiskers scratching my cheek.
I drape my arms over his shoulders and move my body flush against his. 'Well then,' I say. 'Let's give them something to look at.'
Chapter 7
So what's the deal with you and
Marcus?' Hillary asks me the next morning as she picks through the pile of clothes that have already accumulated beside her bed. I resist the urge to fold them for her.
'No deal, really.' I get out of bed and promptly start to make it.
'Potential?' She pulls on a pair of sweats and ties the drawstring, cinching them at hip level.
'Maybe.'
Last year Hillary broke up with Corey, her boyfriend of four years, a nice, smart, all-around great guy. But Hillary was convinced that as good as the relationship was, it wasn't good enough. 'He's not the One,' she kept saying. 1 remember Darcy informing her that she might revise that opinion in her mid-thirties, a statement Hillary and I both rehashed at length later. A classic, tactless Darcyism. Yet, as time passes, I can't help wondering if Hillary made a mistake. Here she is, one year later, embroiled in the fruitless blind-dating scene while, rumor has it, her ex has moved into a Tribeca loft with a twenty-three-year-old med student who is a dead ringer for Cameron Diaz. Hillary claims that it doesn't bother her. I find that very hard to believe, even for someone with her moxie. In any case, she doesn't seem to be in a hurry to find a Corey replacement.
'Summer potential or long-term potential?' she asks me, running her hands through her short, sandy hair.
'I don't know. Maybe long-term potential.'
'Well, you looked like a total couple last night,' she says. 'Out there dancing.'
'We did?' I ask, thinking that if we looked like a couple, Dex must know that I'm not dwelling on him.
She nods, finds her 'Corporate Challenge' T-shirt, and sniffs the armpits before tossing it over to me. 'Is this clean? Smell it.'
'I'm not gonna smell your shirt,' I say, throwing it back. 'You're gross.'
She laughs and puts on her obviously clean enough shirt. 'Yeah… You two were out there whispering and laughing. I thought for sure you were going to hook up last night, and that I would get the room to myself.'
I laugh. 'Sorry to disappoint.'
'You disappointed him more.'
'Nah. He just said good night when we got home. Not even a kiss.'
Hillary knows about the first kiss. 'Why not?'
'I don't know. I think we're both proceeding with caution. We'll have a lot of contact between now and September… You know, he's in the wedding party too. If things blow up, it could be bad.'
She looks as if she is considering my point. For one second I am tempted to tell Hillary everything about Dex. I trust her. But I don't share, reasoning that I can always tell her, but I can't untell her and erase the knowledge from her mind. When we are all together, I would feel even more awkward, constantly thinking that she's thinking about it. And anyway… it is over. There is really nothing to talk about.
We go downstairs. Our housemates have already assembled around the kitchen table.
'It's kick-ass outside,' Darcy says, standing, stretching, and showing off her flat stomach under a cropped T-shirt. She sits back down at the table, returning to her game of solitaire.
Claire looks up from her Palm Pilot. 'Perfect beach weather.'
'Perfect golf weather,' Hillary says, looking at Dex and Marcus. 'Any interest?'
'Urn, maybe,' Dex says, glancing up from the sports page. 'Want me to call and see if we can get a tee time?'
Darcy slams her cards onto the table and looks around defiantly.
Hillary doesn't seem to notice Darcy's objection to a round of golf because she says, 'Or we could just pop over to the driving range.'
'No! No! No! No golf!' Darcy pounds the table again, this time with her fist. 'Not on our first day! We have to stay together! All of us. Right, Rachel?'
'Guess that means no golf today,' Dex says, before I am forced to become involved in the great golf debate. 'Darcy's orders.'
Hillary gets up from the table with a disgusted look on her face.
'I just want us all to be together at the beach,' Darcy says, putting a benevolent spin on her selfishness.
'And you make the prospect seem so pleasant.' Dex stands, walks over to the sink, and starts making coffee.
'What's your problem, grouchy bottom?' Darcy says to his back as if he is the one who just told her how to spend the day. 'You are being such an old stinkweed. Sheesh.'
'What's a stinkweed?' Marcus asks, scratching his ear. It is his first contribution to the morning conversation. He still looks half asleep. 'I'm not familiar.'
'Just have a look at one right now,' Darcy says, pointing at Dex. 'He's been in a bad mood since we got here.'
'No, I haven't,' Dex says. I want him to turn around so I can read his expression.
'Have too. Hasn't he?' Darcy demands an answer from the rest of us, looking at me specifically. Being friends with Darcy has taught me the art of smoothing over. But sleeping with her fiance has dulled my instinct. I am not in the mood to chime in. And nobody else wants to become embroiled in what should be their private argument. We all shrug or look away.
In truth, though, Dex has been somewhat subdued. I wonder if I have anything to do with his mood. Maybe it bothered him, watching me with Marcus. Not full-blown jealousy, just the territorial pangs that I experienced. Or perhaps he's only thinking about Darcy, seeing her for the controlling person she is. I've always been aware of Darcy's demands-you can't miss them-but lately, I have been less tolerant of her. I am tired of her always getting her way. Maybe Dex feels the same.
'What are we doing for breakfast?' Marcus asks through a loud yawn.
Claire glances at her diamond-studded Cartier. 'You mean brunch.'
'Whatever. For food,' Marcus says.
We discuss our options and decide to skip the crowded East Hampton scene. Hillary says that she bought the essentials the day before.
'By essentials, do you mean Pop-Tarts?' Marcus asks.
