by Alison Kent
Where is Ari? Has she come up for air yet?
Nat
To: Isabel; Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 5
Subject: I can’t stop crying!
OMG! You won’t believe it. First there’s the masquerade party where Rafe and I made our own fireworks at midnight, and then there’s the red shoes he surprised me with and the slinky red dress I surprised him with (yes, the same dress you two pushed me into wearing—yes, pushed) and now I’m so happy and grateful and over the moon, I can’t stop crying.
I’m telling you, I’m losing it. I keep forgetting to breathe. You know how worried I was about being one of Rafe’s disposable women, wined and dined and swept off my feet for a couple of months, then dropped with a Tiffany’s trinket as a goodbye gift. Well…
Not to go into too many details, but, Iz, you were absolutely right. New Year’s Day, Rafe arrived at my apartment, he took one look at that dress and, ahem, we never made it out of my apartment. Don’t worry; I was very careful with the dress. I only had it on for five minutes.
I’m having trouble writing this; I wanted to tell you in person, but I can’t wait. You’re both asleep still, and so is Rafe. It’s early. Soon I’ll brew coffee and take it into him, just like a wife. And, oh, Lord, I’m so ditzy I went and spoiled my surprise. Yes. He did. He asked me to marry him.
I love him and he loves me and all that time he was deliberately trying to make me jealous. He swears he had no idea how well it was working. Hah! I got a jewelry box all right, but not from Tiffany’s. He gave me his grandmother’s ruby ring. It’s so beautiful. I feel like I’ve gone from a woman who was always in black to one in nothing but red. Although, for an accountant, that’s a pretty scary thought.;-)
So hurry up and wake up. I want the phone ringing with congratulations.
I love you guys. Thanks for helping me. I’m thrilled for both of you, too. Iz, promise you’ll give Tom a real chance? Maybe you’ll like being a good girl. Nat, I’m so pleased that you forgave Joe. It was obvious at the brunch how much you love him. And I’m dying to hear all the details. Soon, I promise.
For now, I’m still reeling. Sorry about dropping out of sight, but the weekend passed in a daze. If I click the heels of my ruby slippers together, will I wake up on some hurricane-flattened farm in Kansas?
Arianne,
off to brew coffee for her man
To: Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 5
Subject: sneak attack
Natalie, can you believe Arianne? That scamp! I just called her apartment and she actually went to work. This is unacceptable.
Let’s stage a sneak attack. Put down Joe, leash up Cleo (or the other way around), and let’s storm Ari’s office with flowers, champagne and girlish squeals of excitement. We have an engagement to celebrate!
Some kind of New Year it’s turning out to be, huh?
Isabel
Chapter Four
To: Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: Monte Carlo
Well, my thrifty one, I’ve come up with a plan that should please you and the IRS, since you’re both so interested in my business trips. Come with me. We’ll fly to Rome, see some sights, meet some clients and head to Monte Carlo for the weekend. You can calculate every deductible expense, my darling. And I promise you some very non-deductible down time.
Oh, and did I mention you’ll be meeting my family?
Love,
Rafe
To: Rafe
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: RE: Monte Carlo
Which am I, business or pleasure?
Arianne
To: Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: RE: RE: Monte Carlo
Darling, if you have to ask that, I haven’t been doing my job properly.
Let me explain. When we’re with clients, it’s business. You will wear a suit and something from the classic elegance line of Monticellos and you will be charming. When we’re alone, you’ll wear nothing but the lingerie we will be buying at a little place I know in Rome and shoes from our glamour collection.
I get hot just thinking of you in our shoes and nothing else.
Love,
Rafe
To: Rafe
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Monte Carlo
Really, this is a terrible abuse of company email, you know. What if someone saw your messages?
I’ll pack the red shoes. They always have the desired effect on you. And what will you be wearing?
A
To: Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: Need you ask…?
What will I be wearing? The biggest boner you’ve ever seen, cara.
And a smile.
Love,
Rafe
To: Isabel; Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: Cyber you-know-what
He wants me to go to Monte Carlo with him. Gaagh!! And I think he’s trying to have cyber sex with me.
How the hell do you have cybersex anyway? Are there, like, rules? I sort of want to, but what if someone sees?
What’s up with you two? Is Cleo sleeping through the night yet? Is Joe?
Ari
To: Arianne; Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 12
Subject: RE: Cyber you-know-what
Monte Carlo? That’s so decadent. Is this a work trip, or practice for the honeymoon? How will you survive if it’s both and you’re forced to mix business with pleasure? Pardon me while I gloat. The irony is delicious.
As for the cybersex, you’ll have to ask Natalie. Tom hasn’t let me out of his sight for the past week, and I’m getting a tad claustrophobic. If he hadn’t taken me out dancing last night and kept me so exhausted from the IRL sex every night, I might have been making a break for it.
Isabel
To: Tom
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 13
Subject: Beauty and the Beast Do Manhattan
Tom, the other night was superb. I’m still overwhelmed. Usually my dates take me to The One and Only Original Original Ray’s for pizza (and that’s when they’re hoping to get laid), and here you are, Mr. Romance himself, with reservations at The Rainbow Room. I don’t care if it’s cheesy and overrun by tourists—I loved it. I love the way you make me feel special. I love the way you tie the ribbons on my Monticello shoes. I love the way you untie the ribbons on my dress. I love your hands, your arms, your furry-beast chest. I love your eyes and what they say to me, your lips and what they do to me, your entire face as it grows more familiar and handsome each time I see you. I love everything about you. Must stop now before I embarrass myself.
Oops, too late.
Love, love, love,
Isabel
To: Nat; Ari
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 13
Subject: freak out
Do not answer this email. It’s a cyber-freakout to the only people I trust not to rub my nose in my idiocy. I just sent the most ridiculous, mushy, gushy note to Tom, right after I made him go home for a day and leave me alone. I’m such a dork, getting all giddy over this affair when it’s sure to end in disaster. I mean, so far, so good, but that’s not going to last. It can’t possibly last. Can it? Don’t answer me. It’s obvious that neither of you are thinking straight, either.
Iz
To: Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 13
Subject: Bellissima!
C
oming over now. Be naked and under the covers, warming up the bed. One night apart was too many as far as I’m concerned. If you need space, I’ll huddle out on the fire escape until you open the window and let me in again. You know you will.
Tom
P.S. I’m bringing tools. Not that kind. Well, not only that kind.
To: Natalie Trent
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 14
Subject: Missing You
I miss you.
JS
To: Ari; Nat
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 14
Subject: No Excuses or Naked Delays Accepted
Where: my loft (no parkas necessary—Tom fixed the heat)
When: Friday night, January 16
What: Engagement celebration featuring Chinese takeout
Bring: YOUR MEN (washed, shaved, revitalized and ready for inspection)
To: Joe
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 14
Subject: Missing You Back
Me, too. Missing you, that is.
Don’t make plans for Friday night. Isabel has invited us and Rafe & Arianne to her place for Chinese. OMG! Gotta run. Cleo has relocated my red Manolo mules. Must rescue them.
Me
To: Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 15
Subject: Weekend Plans
We already have plans. Didn’t I tell you? We’re spending the weekend in bed—starting Friday night.
JS
P.S. How are the shoes?
To: Joe
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 15
Subject: RE: Weekend Plans
Sounds promising. But we can spend the weekend in bed after we have dinner with Isabel, Tom, Rafe & Arianne. Better take advantage of the hot meal while you can, pal. You’re gonna need it to keep up your strength.
Me
P.S. Shoes?
To: Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 15
Subject: RE: RE: Weekend Plans
Sweetheart, don’t you worry. Stamina isn’t an issue, or do you need a reminder?
I’d tell you to close your eyes and let your imagination take you away, but then you couldn’t read about the erotic adventure I have planned for you. I have a better idea, how about I show you instead? My place. Friday after dinner with your friends. Bring a toothbrush. And only your toothbrush. It’s all you’ll be needing for the weekend.
JS
To: Isabel; Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 15
Subject: Friday
Iz—Put us down for Friday. No parkas? I’ll feel absolutely naked! If you need us to bring anything, just give me a call.
Nat
To: Natalie; Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 15
Subject: Friday dinner. Not sure we can come.
No excuses? Here’s an excuse: We just had our first big fight. I think the engagement party might be premature. Why do I have such horrible taste in men???
Arianne
Chapter Five
To: Natalie
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 18
Subject: The Crash
I knew there’d be a crash, but I thought it’d be me and Tom. Not Arianne. I still don’t know what’s going on with her or what she and Rafe fought about. You know how she clams up and withdraws. All she’ll say is “Once a playboy, always a playboy.” I tried to cheer her up with gobbledygook about the power of love, but I wasn’t really into it. Neither was she. Sorry about the canceled dinner. Not that you and Joe minded.
Iz
To: Isabel; Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 19
Subject: Is it real?
I’m going to get right to the point: Joe asked me to move in with him. It’s been less than three weeks. It’s too soon. Isn’t it?
What if he hurts me again? What if I just think I’m in love with him, but I’m really just infatuated? OMG! Do I love him? How do I know for sure if this time it’s the real thing? If he’s really the one?
Nat
To: Natalie; Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 19
Subject: RE: Is it real?
I think maybe I am the wrong person to ask about this right now, but on the other hand, Isabel is not her usual cynical self and someone has to be cynical. That would be me.
You’ve known him three weeks, Nat. Three weeks. You can’t break in a pair of shoes that fast, and you certainly haven’t trained that boisterous puppy of yours in a couple of weeks. Do you really think you’re ready for hate to turn to love in less than a month? Yeah, yeah, I know you and Isabel think I’m too practical. Once in my life I decide not to be practical and what happens? I end up engaged to a man who’s on a first name basis with all the sales clerks at Tiffany’s.
Oh, I see this email magically became about me. Sorry about that. I’m just saying I think you should take this step carefully, Nat. It’s a big one and I don’t want to see you hurt again.
luv
Arianne
To: Natalie; Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 19
Subject: RE: RE: Is it real?
Natalie should go for it. She’s the only one of us with the guts to dare to really live.
Isabel
To: Natalie; Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: the dreariest Monday of my life
Subject: Tiffany’s!
I know Nat has a big decision to make, but I’m ready to vent and you’re my best friends. So here goes….
I’m Rafe’s accountant; did he think I wouldn’t see the bills? He just spent five thousand bucks at Tiffany’s. Which of his lady friends is getting the kiss-off? He swore to me he wasn’t seeing anyone, I was the love of his life, blah, blah, blah. And now this! The five-g item wasn’t for me, I’ll tell you that. It went to a Manhattan apartment suspiciously close to Rafe’s place. I watch Dr. Phil. I gave him a chance to explain. He demanded my trust and clammed up.
I hate men! Even Dr. Phil.
Arianne
To: Arianne Sorenson
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20, Tuesday
Subject: Monte Carlo
Are you coming or not?
R
To: Rafe Monticello
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20
Subject: RE: Monte Carlo
Not! Why don’t you ask your little Tiffany’s friend?
A
To: Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20
Subject: RE: RE: Monte Carlo
You’re pissing me off. I’m taking you to lunch.
R
To: Rafe
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20
Subject: I’m busy
I really am. Very busy.
A
To: Arianne
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20
Subject: RE: I’m busy
Get your coat; we’re leaving now.
R
To: Rafe
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20
Subject: RE: RE: I’m busy
It’s 9:30 a.m.!
A
To: Natalie; Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 20
Subject: Men are pigs
I’m goin
g to have to quit my job. The man’s out of his mind. He breaks my heart, now he insists I go to lunch with him. I haven’t even digested breakfast yet! Isabel, I need your talent at dropping a persistent lover you’ve grown tired of. I mean your old talent, natch.
I’m going to—oh hell, here he comes. He looks mad, too. Jerk. If you don’t hear from me again, have the East River dragged. Not for my body, for his!
A
Chapter Six
To: Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 23
Subject: I’m on tenterhooks
Hi, Iz. It’s Saturday and there’s still no word from Arianne. Could the squabble with Rafe actually be serious? I’m on tenterhooks here, and no one is writing or calling! Do you have Rafe’s number? Arianne’s not picking up her messages at home. Where does one hire river draggers?
Nat
To: Natalie; Isabel
From: [email protected]
Date: Jan 24
Subject: I’m such an idiot
Just got home and listened to Nat’s phone messages. Sorry about being out of touch again, but I hope you’ll think it was worth it.
When I last left you, Rafe was dragging me out of the building for lunch at 9:30 in the morning—and I do mean drag! You should have seen us; I’m sure I was like a dog on a leash being yanked away from a wonderfully aromatic tree trunk. Yuck. Gross image, but you get the idea.
So I told him I don’t want lunch. He told me to shut up. Rafe Monticello, Mr. Smooth Latin Lover, told me to shut up! He didn’t even talk to me until we got to the address where the five-thousand-dollar Tiffany’s box was delivered. Of course, I wouldn’t get out of the car. Of course, we reenacted our dog-being-dragged-from-aromatic-tree-trunk scene again for a new crowd. He bullied me up the steps of this elegant brownstone, and I nearly died when an old woman with spun-sugar white hair and a cane answered the door. It was his godmother. He’d sent her a lovely, really beautiful sterling tea set for her ninetieth birthday. So, of course, we stayed and had tea. Then we went for lunch. At his place. Sigh. I love a nice long lunch. And going home with him after work is even better.
The engagement is back on. Is the celebration dinner? Iz, you’ve been very quiet. Everything okay with you and Tom?
Nat, I still think my advice wasn’t terrible. Get to know Joe before you move in together.
luv
