Chapter Eight. “Let me make sure I understand

“Let me make sure I understand. You, Grace Owens, have been invited to attend the hottest wedding of the year, which happens to be the most sought after publicity event in recent history, and you said no. ”

She hadn’t meant to tell Margo, but it had just slipped out as she recounted the meeting with Eva and her sarcastic response. They were sitting at the Monastery enjoying Happy Hour, and Grace had already finished her second merlot.

“I can’t believe you guys made that list, ” she said, hoping to change the subject.

Margo pointed at her. “This is exactly what the list is about. Give it to me. I know you have it with you.”

She scowled and searched her purse until she found the sheet of memo paper.

I should have burned it. Instead I’ve reviewed it at least a dozen times.

“Do you really think I’d have sex with a stranger? ”

Margo lifted her glass. “Honey, you slept with Michelle after nearly twenty years. Anything’s possible.” She took her hand and looked at her with sincerity. “I love you, sweetie, but Michelle’s right. You’ve got to loosen up, and I think you’re passing up an incredible chance. Call Logan. Tell her you’ll go. Kazmar Edens is the hottest actor on the planet. And you still have the rest of that vial, ” she added.

She absently touched her bulging purse. The small oak box was buried near the bottom. She’d meant to take it out but had conveniently forgotten. “I’m not drinking anymore of that potion, ” she said weakly, shifting her purse away from Margo.

When another mutual friend, Celeste, stopped by their table, Grace couldn’t find an appropriate moment to leave. Margo ordered another round and told Celeste about Grace’s missed opportunity.

“I can’t believe you’re not going if for no other reason than to see the art collection, ” Celeste said.

“What do you mean? ” Grace asked. She adored art and visiting museums, but she hadn’t been to one in ages, not since Eva had left. It was one of the activities they both relished.

“Well, I heard that Kazmar was getting married at Linus McWhirter’s estate. And he’s known for his art collection. His mansion is unbelievable. It was featured once on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. He’s got an original Degas, a Kahlo, and a Richter, among others. Considering how much you love paintings, Gracie, I’m surprised you’re not jumping at the chance.”

Margo sighed deeply. “But unfortunately, Celeste, Grace would have to endure the tedious company of a beautiful and talented photographer, who’s made it very clear that she wants to make time with the good doctor.”

Celeste touched her breast dramatically. “How horrible! ”

Grace quickly excused herself and went to the bathroom. She didn’t know what to do. Since her evening with Michelle she kept seeing herself standing on a hill, looking down at a tiny town. It was sleepy, ordinary. She felt pity for everyone who lived there, stuck in their ho-hum lives, while she towered above them, close to the clouds, free. She knew it was symbolic and stupid at the same time. Still, it was as though she’d inherited an incredible power, over herself and others. She savored the feeling.

Her cell phone rang, and she was surprised to see Eva’s name. She’d never bothered to remove her from her address book. Was that significant?

“Hey, ” she said.

“Hi, Grace.” Her voice sounded shaky, hesitant, not at all like the usually jovial Eva who was the life of the party. “Um, I wanted to apologize for the comments I made earlier. I had no right to speak to you like that. I’m sorry.”

She slurred her words and music played in the background. Grace asked, “Are you drunk? ”

Eva chuckled. “Only a little. And don’t worry. I’m not driving.”

“Where are you? ”

“At Destiny’s. I’m just checking out the hot women.”

“So, who’s taking you home? ” she asked playfully.

“Shit, Grace. I’m not some whore.”

Confused, she sputtered, “Eva, I wasn’t implying—”

“Sure you weren’t. When we were together, you resented all the women who wanted me.”

“I did not.”

“You sure the hell did. That’s why you hated coming here.”

Grace looked around the bathroom and sighed. She didn’t want to have a phone argument in the middle of the restaurant’s facilities. “Eva, you’re drunk. I’m hanging up now.”

“That’s just like you, Gracie. Run away from a conversation. Have fun with your great celebrity weekend.”

“Goodbye, Eva. And in case you’re wondering I accept your apology, but I think you owe me another one.”

She shut the cell phone and stood over the sink. Eva would immediately retreat back to the bar, order another Seven and Seven and wrap her arms around the first hot young dyke with blond hair. She imagined they’d dance for an hour, and then Eva would escort her out to her Porsche, an instant guarantee that they would go back to Eva’s place.

She looked down and realized she was holding the oak box. The image of Eva with other women was one she tried to avoid. It was still too painful. Feeling like a closet drug addict, she pulled the vial from its box and stared at the swirling liquid. Her hands were shaking as she uncorked the vial and took a small sip. The pineapple flavor filled her mouth, and she felt the urge to sit down. She headed into an empty stall and planted herself on the toilet seat for a few seconds. It was like walking in a river against the current, her body engulfed by the surging rapids. She pulled out her cell phone, her resolve withering, but from somewhere a little voice was urging her to take action. She thought of Logan’s smile and cascading hair as she reached into her purse for the slip of paper Logan had given her. There were three sevens in her phone number. Could that be lucky?

When Logan answered, she couldn’t think of what to say.

“Hello? ” Logan asked again. “Hello? Is that you, Grace? ”

Hearing her name, realizing that Logan had not suddenly forgotten her or the proposition, bolstered her confidence. “Yes, Logan, it’s me. Grace.”

“I was wondering if you’d call. Have you changed your mind? ”

“Well, I had a few questions—”

“Questions like what are the sleeping arrangements, when will I have you back to Phoenix and do I have a criminal record? Are those the kinds of questions you wanted to ask? ”

“I think I’m good on the criminal record part, ” she said with a laugh. “I guess I just don’t know what you’re expecting of me.”

“Nothing, really. I’d just like your company. Where are you? ”

“I’m at the Monastery on Camelback.”

“I’ll be by in a little while.”

She hung up before Grace could tell her that she needed to go home and pack. When she returned to the table still holding her cell phone, Margo adopted a smug smile. “Somebody’s going on a trip, right? ”

Grace shook her head, unwilling to admit she’d swallowed the Root of Passion. “What am I going to do now? ” she asked her friends. “She’ll be here shortly, and I don’t even have time to go home.”

Margo waved a hand. “Honey, they have toiletries and clothes in Vegas. Live a little. Go spend some money at one of those boutiques on the strip. Find something sexy to wear to the wedding.”

Suddenly panicked, she reached for her phone, but Margo grabbed her hand. “Don’t. Have another glass of wine.”

She obliged and relaxed. The room was warm, and she was suddenly feeling very comfortable with her decision to fly to Las Vegas with a beautiful woman. The conversation shifted to Margo’s last trip to Paris and her strange liaison with her homophobic boss. It wasn’t until Logan appeared at the table that she even remembered she was about to get on a plane.

“Hey, ” Logan said with a lazy smile. She glanced at Margo and Celeste and said, “We need to get to the airport.”

Margo and Celeste quickly introduced themselves, and Grace excused herself again for the bathroom before they left. She lingered in the foyer a little, checking her hair and applying some lipstick. She was certainly not vain, but Logan’s smile, combined with her attentive eyes—an obvious attribute of a photographer—made her more self-conscious than she’d ever been. She tugged at the sleeves of her maroon blouse and undid one more button. If Logan leaned over her shoulder during the flight, she would have a clear view down her shirt. What are you doing, Grace?

“Shut up, ” she said to the mirror and marched out to greet the weekend.

The anticipation she felt about their trip quickly dissipated as they drove to the airport in a taxi, Logan endlessly answering her cell phone—scheduling future shoots, talking to her two brothers about Chester and confirming with Kazmar’s wedding coordinator about tomorrow’s arrival at the McWhirter estate. By the time she finally disconnected her Bluetooth, they were being dropped at the curb, and then they began the harried calisthenics of airport arrival—check-in, security clearance and locating their gate.

Logan glanced at her watch. “We’ve still got forty minutes before we board. How about a cocktail? I’m dying to hear about the list.”

She whirled to face her, clearly surprised. “How do you know about that? ”

Logan laughed and pointed to a nearby lounge. Grace waited nervously in the booth while Logan visited the bar and returned with a beer and a merlot. She settled next to Grace and stroked her thigh, her eyes full of lust. Grace gripped the table and swallowed hard, feeling the river’s current pull her toward Logan. She wanted to kiss her desperately, but now was not the time. My God. We could wind up in the mile high club.

She took a serious drink and faced her. “How do you know about the list? ”

“Margo told me while you were in the bathroom. May I please see it? ”

She balked initially, but when Logan snapped her fingers, she pulled out the piece of memo paper which was worn from repeated handling.

Logan reached for her reading glasses and surveyed the five items listed. “Let’s see. Face a fear. What are you afraid of? ”

She’d never really thought about it. “I don’t know. The usual stuff, I guess. Death. Public speaking. Do those count? ”

“I don’t think that’s what Margo’s talking about.” She grinned. “That’s okay. I have a few ideas on that one. Next, have sex with a stranger.” Her eyes bore into Grace’s, and Grace resisted the urge to crawl into her lap. “We know that’s already on the table, ” Logan said, in a silky voice. “The next two items actually could go together. Make a public spectacle of yourself and wear something sexy. Depending on what you choose, we could save some time there.” She folded the paper back into fourths and returned it to her. “The only one I can’t help you with is number five. I don’t do relationships.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never been in a relationship? ”

Logan shook her head and sipped her beer. “I’ve been in enough relationships to know I don’t do well in them. My career doesn’t afford me much time with someone. I have a loft in New York, but I’m rarely there. I’ve learned commitment requires work, and it becomes a choice between traveling the world and staying in one place with one person.” She shrugged. “I choose my career.”

Grace was impressed by her honesty. “At least you know yourself and what you need.”

“And what do you need, Grace? Do you like being alone? ”

“I hate it, ” she said, entirely surprised when the words escaped her lips. It’s the potion. It’s peeling away the cerebral cortex of my brain. I’m just saying whatever comes into my head. She quickly held up a hand. “I should probably amend that somewhat. It’s not like I’m desperate. I wouldn’t settle for a woman who didn’t share my values or my interests.”

A slow smile crept over Logan’s face. “It sounds like you know what you need, too, Dr. Owens. And I imagine there’s already someone in your sights.”

She shrugged. “Not really. My old girlfriend and I have a rather odd relationship, and my neighbors keep trying to set me up with a woman down the street who seems to be my exact opposite.”

“And what is your exact opposite, Dr. Owens? ”

She exhaled and thought of words to characterize Dina. “Let’s see. Someone who’s spontaneous, free-spirited, only has a GED, much younger and financially challenged.”

“What’s wrong with someone who never went to college? ” Logan asked sharply.

She suddenly remembered Logan had no advanced degree. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Logan said nothing but continued to stare. She felt she had to explain. “Look, it’s just that my interests were all things I cultivated in college—my interests in art, philosophy and great literature. Most people who went to college don’t like discussing those topics.”

“Uh-huh. I see.”

The conversation fizzled, and Grace felt horribly embarrassed. She must think I’m a snob. She watched the people hurry down the concourse. They clutched their boarding passes, their eyes upward, counting the gate signs. They’re different from me. They know where they’re going and what awaits them at the destination.

Logan interrupted her thoughts with a question she’d answered many times. “Why did you become a vascular surgeon? ”

“I liked the intricacy and the precision. One of my professors in med school suggested it for me. He said I had the right temperament.”

Logan chuckled and finished her drink. “I’ll bet.”

Before she could respond, the loudspeaker announced they were about to begin boarding the flight to Las Vegas.

They stepped into the long line, and she noticed those around her seemed to fit a certain stereotype: most were couples who she imagined were going to Vegas for a quick weekend of slots, sex and drinking. She was surprised that the hunky bodybuilder in front of them was alone. She guessed his perfectly toned physique got a little help from steroids, and several of the nearby straight women stole glances at him when they thought their husbands or boyfriends weren’t looking. That ended when a six-foot bleach-blonde sidled up to him and possessively placed her hand in his back pocket. He wrapped a beefy arm around her bare midriff, for she wore a tiny tank top—braless, and the shortest miniskirt Grace had ever seen.

Logan and Grace exchanged glances. Several passengers were staring at the overtly sexual couple, who were now French kissing.

Logan whispered, “I think you’re seeing an example of sexual dress and making a public spectacle of yourself, which, as I recall, are numbers three and four on your list.”

“No, ” Grace said simply. “Not gonna happen.”

Logan smiled pleasantly as the line began to move forward. “So, ” she said, brushing her hand against Grace’s, “does this list need to be accomplished in order or can I improvise? ”