The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy)

by Gretchen Galway

  “Hold on. I thought you were setting her up with Alex.”

  She smiled over the rim of her Monster Lo-Carb. “You’ve got to be a little sneaky with Lucy.”

  He stared. His mind flew back over the last few days. “Not very nice to Alex.”

  “He jumped to his own conclusions. I didn’t do a thing.”

  Miles stood up. “I have to talk to her.”

  She got between him and the door. “Listen to me first. I have some advice.”

  “Fawn—”

  “I’m her best friend. I understand her like nobody else.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “You do.”

  “I just need to explain how crazy I am about her.”

  “That’s the last thing you should say.”

  “She’s all I can think about. Even though it’s only been a few days.”

  Fawn sucked in a breath. “No. That is the last thing you should say.”

  She was so certain, so genuinely horrified, Miles sat down again. “It is?”

  “She can’t stand it when guys are all gushy. That’s how she ended up engaged to somebody who didn’t like having sex with her.”

  Some loser shared a bed with Lucy and didn’t even like it? “Was he gay or something?”

  “We’ve been wondering. Point is, Lucy seemed to prefer that kind of relationship. And I knew she’d look for the exact same thing again if we didn’t interfere.”

  “Wasn’t it risky to set her up with Alex?”

  “I didn’t! She just assumed he was the one.” She took a sip of her drink. “But it was you. Not that I could say that, because then she’d get skittish and weird and you’d never, ever have made it this far.”

  “But Alex seemed to know she was looking for a man.”

  “Maybe Huntley said something to him. Or maybe he just picked up on her signals.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s over now, thank God. Maybe Krista can sort him out.”

  “Krista.”

  She threw the empty can in the recycling basket near the door. “They slept together. The other night. After we left you at the B and B.”

  He looked at his hands. Hot damn. “And Lucy knows?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Grinning, he looked up at her. “Then I’m set.”

  She sighed in exasperation. “Alex was never your problem. Lucy is your problem. She hates big displays of emotion. Lots going on under the hood, as I’m sure you know, but she likes everything on the surface to be calm and controlled.”

  He thought of the way she screamed his name and squeezed his hips with her thighs. “Not as much as you might think.”

  Face breaking into a stunning smile, Fawn sat down next to him on the bed. “I know you’re what she needs, Miles. A man who can give her real passion.”

  “You just told me I was too gushy.”

  “In bed you can be as wild as you want. But the rest of the time you have to play it cool. No angry outbursts about her being your woman. If she thinks you want a long-term, exclusive thing without a baby at the end of it, she’ll run. As long as you’re fun and casual and great in bed—and not too easy—she’ll keep you around.”

  Easy. She made him sound like a slut. “Maybe I do want a long-term, exclusive thing without a baby at the end of it.”

  “Maybe. Who knows? You just met. One thing I do know? Lucy needs at least one hot, passionate fling in her life. Something to dream about after she’s married to some boring guy who can’t light her fire.”

  The thought of her married to a cold, boring guy made him clench his teeth. “How am I supposed to ‘light her fire’ and be a jerk at the same time?”

  She patted his knee. “You just have to do what I say.”

  * * *

  To Lucy’s surprise, the rehearsal dinner late Friday afternoon was neither a rehearsal nor a dinner. Like the tree ceremony, the spa had a tradition of gathering the bride and groom with the important people in their life and having some kind of New Age ritual that made everyone uncomfortable. This time it would be in a spa building called the Peace Yurt. Lucy went over with Fawn a few minutes early to make sure everything was ready.

  Vibrating with nerves, Fawn kept tripping over the dirt path. Lucy didn’t want to add to her stress, but she was worried about being forced to hold hands with both Alex and Miles and sing love songs or something.

  Other women might’ve liked having a man fight for her, but Lucy hated it. She wasn’t anyone’s thing. Not her father’s, not some guy she just met. Why did men think a little affection meant they owned you? Was it because they were so incapable of taking care of themselves?

  Neither of them was what he seemed. Alex, ambitious and anal-retentive, should have been too self-absorbed to get attached to a stranger in a photograph.

  And Miles! Preening around like the alpha gorilla. They hadn’t made each other any promises. Now he seemed to think he owned her.

  Nobody owned her. For the first time in her life, she was free. Her dad was safely hitched to an excessively capable woman who seemed to enjoy the exhausting job of taking care of him.

  No adult should need that much from another. Children—sure. But a grown man? Or a woman? What kind of life was that, to live at the mercy, skills, whims, emotions, or fortunes of another?

  Fawn stopped suddenly and put her hands on her stomach. “I feel sick. I’m so nervous I’m going to barf.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Who’s going to be there?”

  “Bride, groom, maid of honor, best man, parents,” she said in a monotone. “Am I wearing too much concealer? Of course I had to break out this morning. All the sugar and stress. Look at my chin. It’s like a ‘You Are Here’ dot right on my face.”

  “I can’t see anything.”

  “Don’t lie to me!” she snapped, then bit her lip. “Sorry.”

  Lucy put an arm around her. “Go ahead. Say anything that makes you feel better. I can take it.”

  “You are so great,” Fawn said slowly, looking up at the sky and blinking fast. “I hope you find as much happiness as I have.”

  I was kind of hoping for more. “How are Huntley’s parents behaving?”

  “Same. It’s okay. They’re probably too old to change.”

  “And Huntley?”

  Fawn didn’t look at her. “He’s willing to live on the west coast so it doesn’t come up very often.”

  “But Fawn—” Lucy stopped herself. Should she tell her that wasn’t going to work? She was marrying into a family that didn’t like her. That was going to be awful no matter where they lived.

  After checking her makeup in her compact and putting on more lipstick, Fawn plastered a smile on her face, pushing her shoulders back. “My mom went to meet her new boyfriend at the Greeting Lot. She might not make it here in time, which I told her was totally fine.” She lowered her voice. “It’s hard enough for me to suck up to the Sterlings. She doesn’t have it in her.”

  “We just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.” She put her hands over her chest and sucked in a deep breath. “I can do this.”

  Lucy hugged her. “Of course you can. Huntley will be here. And I’m here.”

  Fawn took her hand and squeezed. “I can’t expect Huntley to turn against his own parents, but if you’re here, at least I feel like there’s somebody prejudiced to take my side.”

  “That should be him, Fawn.”

  “He’s not a fighter, but he is loyal underneath. I love that about him. I do. I just have to keep reminding myself that it’s going to be enough. His parents obviously hate my guts and always will.”

  Fawn opened the door to the Peace Yurt and gave Lucy a funny look. “Wow, I guess they weren’t kidding.”

  Lucy peeked inside and groaned. “We’re going to be naked?”

  “Not the whole time, I don’t think.”

  “I’m not getting naked, Fawn. I love you, but—”

  Fawn pushed her inside. “I don’t see why you’re
getting prudish now. You seemed pretty eager to get naked the other night.”

  “Er—”

  Another push. “If I can do it, you can.”

  So says the supermodel.

  A naked female staffer greeted them with a white candle in each hand and a big toothy smile. She was in her fifties, had breasts more perky than Lucy’s had been in high school, and sported gray pubic hair that was trimmed short. Like hedged lavender.

  Lucy imagined her serving mashed potatoes and bean sprouts at the Snowy Egret and started to giggle. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” She turned to flee and ran into a big, familiar chest.

  Miles wore a fitted black sweater that emphasized his strong build. She inhaled the scent of him and hung on for a second before stepping back.

  He kept his hands on her. “Where’s the fire?” he asked. Then he saw the nude staffer. “Oh. There it is, right behind you.”

  “She wants us to get naked,” Lucy said.

  Miles frowned. “I don’t do naked in groups. It’s bad for fundraising.” With an arm tight over her shoulders, he guided her back inside. “Maybe it’s the wedding night rehearsal dinner. In which case, I think they could skip it since they’ve been practicing a bit already.”

  Then he dropped his hands and walked to the other side of the yurt.

  “Hello, friends,” the naked woman said. “I’m Denise, and yes, I’m nude. I’m going to invite all of you to join me. It’s a simple but profound step to illustrate your unlayering. To bare yourself to me, to your committed partner, to each other, to yourself. I’ve got towels—”

  “Thank God!” Fawn said, holding out her hand.

  “—for you to lie down on. I’ll come by with scented oils for your feet and hands. I do ask that you not touch one another, as that may increase the discomfort of everyone else.”

  Fawn held the towel to her chest for a moment, then shrugged and started unbuttoning her dress.

  “I really can’t do this,” Lucy said.

  “Oh, boy,” Miles said, looking at the door.

  Lucy turned around to see Huntley and his parents walk in.

  Behind Huntley, Rosalind Sterling had on a cream pantsuit and a gold necklace as thick as a Twizzler. The elder Huntley wore a navy blue pinstripe, but had left off the tie—which, next to his wife, made him look as naked as Denise.

  “Why is that woman in the nude, son?” Rosalind asked.

  Wild-eyed and grinning, Huntley got a good look at Denise and Fawn. Then saw his father’s face and his smile fell. “I’m not sure, Mom.”

  “And your friend. She’s also taking off her clothes,” Rosalind said. “Perhaps you have some insight in that area?”

  Fawn was frozen in the middle of taking off her underwear. She’d already pulled off the dress and bra, which pushed her blond ponytail off to the side. Bent over with one knee in the air, she looked like she was posing for a photo shoot. Like Lucy, she watched her fiancé. Waiting.

  “Must be part of the ceremony,” young Huntley said, and went over to Denise to grab a towel. Then he stood there and didn’t take off a stitch.

  “Welcome!” Denise said. She handed towels to Huntley’s parents and peeked outside the door. “Any more coming?”

  Now naked and glorious, Fawn stood up with her back straight and said, “My mother can’t be here until a little later. She’s with her new boyfriend. I wanted him here at the wedding because she really likes him and I love her and that’s how people act when they care about each other.” She met the Sterlings’ cold stares with a steely gaze of her own.

  You go, girl, Lucy thought. Standing buck naked in front of your fiancé’s parents would take guts even if they’d picked you out at the bride store and arranged the marriage themselves—let alone when they hated you. Even if you were six feet tall and gorgeous and posed in front of strangers for a living.

  My best friend, the warrior princess.

  “So, it’s just us for now.” Denise closed the door with a bang and turned back to the room with her hands together. “As I was saying, obviously, I’m nude. I invite you to join me. We get so many letters about this ceremony I can’t even tell you. I know it seems strange. We are conditioned to be ashamed of our bodies. I admit, even I used to feel uncomfortable when we started this. But each and every day I get a letter from a former guest of our spa telling me how meaningful it was, how helpful, and I’m motivated to share this joy with you.”

  “Like hell you will,” the elder Huntley said.

  “This was obviously her idea,” Rosalind said, fingering the necklace at her throat. “Perhaps Huntley could explain to her that marriage is a serious business, especially for a man like him, and then we can all forget this ever happened.”

  The room fell silent, most of them staring at Huntley. He studied the floor. Fawn’s proud bearing was beginning to waver; Lucy could see tears shining in her eyes. But her jaw was hard and she didn’t make any move to cover herself up.

  Lucy didn’t know what to do. If she took off her own clothes she might make the situation more ridiculous—she was one of Fawn’s friends, and they’d write her off as another California nutjob. But if she ran over and covered Fawn with a towel, it would undermine the bravery of her stance, imply she had something to be ashamed of.

  Suddenly, Miles said, “What the hell,” and dropped his pants. He was wearing tight black boxer briefs; she admired them and the ass underneath, got lost in the memories of the feel of it under her hands. “Because marriage is a serious business.” Then he kicked off his shoes, his jeans, pulled the shirt and sweater over his head. He didn’t smirk or laugh with his eyes, just stripped down as though he were doing something important.

  I love you, Lucy thought, watching him. And then, No, I can’t.

  “You’re right, Miles,” the younger Huntley said, breaking out of his trance. He went over to Fawn, stood a few inches away from her, not touching, and looked into her eyes. “Forgive me?”

  Fawn let him squirm for a long moment before reaching out to unbutton his shirt. Slowly her fingers made their way down his chest, loosening each button to his waist. “Tell them,” she said.

  He nodded but didn’t look away from her face. While he wriggled out of his shirt, he said, “Mom, Dad, this was all my idea. All of it. This place, this ceremony, this wedding, this woman.” He kicked aside his shoes, pulled off his pants, then his underwear. He was naked, his bare white bottom aimed at his stunned parents. “I don’t regret any of it.”

  “Jesus H,” his father said. “About time.”

  “Give your trainer a bonus, dear,” Rosalind said, smirking at his naked backside.

  And then the two of them smiled at each other and went out the door.

  Leaving Lucy the only one in the Peace Yurt with any clothes on.

  Chapter 22

  “ISN’T THAT IT?” LUCY ASKED wildly. “You got the groom and his parents to face up to the love between him and Fawn, so now we can all just go and maybe have something to eat—”

  “Lucy.” The warrior princess was staring at her now with the Gaze of Command.

  Her face burning, Lucy turned to the side and took off her sweater. Then kicked off her shoes, her jeans, and eventually, when nobody told her she didn’t have to, the rest of her clothes. After all, the only ones who hadn’t already seen her naked were Huntley and Denise, and they couldn’t care less.

  Miles grabbed a towel and sat cross-legged on the ground on the opposite side of the yurt. Never looking at her, he put the towel over his lap and reached for one of Denise’s bottles of oil.

  Huntley and Fawn followed suit, forming a loose circle, and Lucy had to do the same or she’d be the only one standing up. Like she was It during a game of Strip Duck-Duck Goose.

  Denise began chanting something but Lucy was lost in a daze.

  First, there was the love thing. That was a problem. But she would just have to admit she was human and thus capable of infatuation and give herself time to get over it. Or see it as
the natural progression of a quick, valuable friendship. He was a hot, sexy guy, but he was a human being first. She didn’t have any trouble loving human beings. For instance: Fawn. She was a human being. No problem there.

  The second issue, however, was how her new valuable friend (who was a human being) was totally ignoring her. This same person who was eager to fight over her like a rutting ape was now rubbing oils over his well-muscled calves, and thighs, and now upper inner thighs, without even glancing her way.

  Instead he smiled at Denise, who was droning on about some flaky spiritual garbage.

  Those breasts couldn’t be real. And who trimmed their pubic hair like that? Sure, young girls posting videos on the Internet. Not post-menopausal therapists trying to get commitment-minded adults to discuss their deepest fears.

  And my God, did she have to sit cross-legged? It was like Georgia O’Keefe down there.

  Lucy flopped down on her stomach and buried her face in her arms. They could bring her to water but they couldn’t make her look.

  At Denise’s nagging, Huntley began speaking about his fear of being worthless. “I’ve never had to prove myself,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine what Fawn sees in me. Not the money or, you know, my looks. The real me. What if there isn’t anything there?”

  “You dork,” Miles said. “How many pretty billionaires do you see me hanging around with?”

  “Maybe I’m the only one you could find.”

  Miles snorted. “I wish.”

  “If we could keep the tone more peaceful,” Denise said.

  Fawn scooted closer to Huntley and put a hand on his bare knee. “I’m exactly the same way. That’s what I feel when I’m with you—that sameness. Nobody’s ever seemed to understand that.”

  Lucy lifted her head. “Hey.”

  “You’re different. You knew me before. Plus, you’re like a sister. Of course you love me. But would we be friends if we met today? Would you like just the grown-up me, if that’s all you had to go by? I don’t know.”

  “All right. I would, but I understand what you’re saying.” As long as she wasn’t telling her she was too poor and ugly to understand the real Fawn.