“Sistah,” Lottie would say, “you are shit-hot. Even without any makeup on and your hair pul ed back in that stupid ponytail. Look in the f**kin’ mirror every once in awhile, would you?”

Then again, Lottie loved me, so did Trixie and Mom.

Trixie, who’s got a license for doing hair, nails, facials, everything, kept trying to give me highlights like Lottie’s.

“Don’t hide your light under a bushel, or in your case, hide that thick, shiny hair in a ponytail. I’m sick of those ponytails! Every day, it’s a ponytail! Enough with the ponytails!” Trixie would say (Trixie was a bit dramatic).

She and Mom kept trying to take me shopping for clothes that “fit a bit better” (they meant tighter which also meant I mainly wore tight jeans and fitted t-shirts and sweaters), tried to get me to go with the girls to parties and out to the bars, they even suggested speed dating once.

“Al the men wil be backed up at your table, I swear to God,” Mom said.

I know Mom felt guilty for everything that happened, it had been a bad few months and she wanted me to have a break. She was working hard at getting better so she could get on with her life, but more, so I could get on with mine.

Mom had bigger dreams for me than I did.

Not that I didn’t have dreams, I used to dream al the time, always had my head in the clouds. When Dad left though, Mom fel apart for awhile (okay, so it was a long while).

I had to keep it together, for Mom, for Lottie, and didn’t have time for dreams when I was taking care of al of us.

When Mom got back to it, she stil needed help. By the time Lottie took off to LA, I was used to the way it was and it was comfortable so why screw with that?

“A party,” Mom said, “is just the thing.” I couldn’t let Mom down. I could never let Mom down. It was just the way it was.

She made me make her famous chocolate caramel layer squares to take with me. I didn’t have time for that either but at that point, I was so exhausted and run down, I didn’t know which way was up. Finding a spare fifteen minutes to make chocolate caramel layer squares for Indy and her friends seemed the least of my worries.

“Men love those!” Mom added as I walked into the kitchen to make the squares.

As if that was incentive. I barely had time to shave my legs, where she thought I’d find time to date, I’d never know.

Anyway, everyone loved chocolate caramel layer squares, mainly because there were five ingredients: chocolate cake mix, butter, chocolate chips, condensed milk and caramel. With those ingredients, it could only be good; it wasn’t like I was a master chef or anything.

I went to the party and got there late. I had my face al done up, ‘cause Smithie liked his girls heavy on the makeup which meant I had smoky eyes, lashes out to there, dewy cheeks and serious red lipstick.

Once inside Indy and Lee’s duplex, I stared at the crowd and the only thing I could think of was where I was going to change into my Smithie’s uniform. I didn’t like to go back with the dancers, I had enough confidence problems as it was without being confronted with a dozen perfectly toned, tanning-bed tanned, surgical y enhanced bodies.

And I couldn’t wear the uniform to the party, no way, no how.

Smithie made al his cocktail waitresses wear red, micro-mini skirts, black, skin-tight, shelf-bra camisoles with

“Smithie’s” written in fancy schmancy script across the boobs, and the shoes could be red or black, he didn’t care, just as long as the heel was thin and high.

I only had time to put the chocolate caramel layer squares on the table when I had to find Indy and Lee and say hi and good-bye.

It was a crush, people everywhere. It looked like a good party, folks were laughing and talking, the music was loud and I could see cashews in bowls here and there.

Cashews were definitely the hal mark of a good party.

I found I was stuck against the dining room table, people having closed in al around me.

Then, Eddie pushed in right next to me, his back to me Then, Eddie pushed in right next to me, his back to me and he was hand in hand with a fantastic-looking blonde.

He didn’t notice me and I thought I’d get away when, on the other side of the table, Indy and Hank, Lee’s older brother (who was also hot, by the way, and he’s a cop and super-nice) came up. Indy saw me, clapped her hands and laughed, getting everyone’s attention.

“Jet! I didn’t think you’d come!”

Tex lumbered up to the table just as Eddie turned from having his back to me to looking at me. Eddie’s expression was kind of benign when he turned (though he also looked kinda curious, or at least it seemed that way to me) but the minute he clapped eyes on me, he froze and stared.

“Jee-zus, woman, look at you!” Tex boomed, “Fuckin’ A if you don’t clean up good. You look like that behind the counter at Fortnum’s, we’d have a line out the f**kin’ door!” I wanted to run. I didn’t want everyone looking at me.

I looked at Indy to give her my apologies when Indy said,

“Did you make those chocolate caramel things you said you were gonna make?”

“Yeah, right here.” I pointed to them and then said,

“Listen, I’m so sorry. I gotta go. I’ve got something else on that I can’t miss.”

“Hot date?” Tex asked, reaching for a chocolate caramel layer square.

I chanced a look at Eddie out of the corner of my eye and he was stil staring at me, no longer a frozen stare, there was activity behind his eyes, lots of it. Just nothing I could understand. I stopped trying to look at Eddie without looking like I was looking at Eddie and answered Tex, “Not exactly.”

“Shame.” Tex bit into the square, chewed twice and his eyes got huge, “Fuck! ” he exploded, chocolate and caramel flying out of his mouth. My heart seized. He looked like he was going to have a chocolate-caramel-layer-square-induced heart attack.

“Tex!” Indy yel ed, “You’re spewing al over the food!” Tex ignored Indy and was staring at me.

“These are unbe-fucking-lievable. I think I’ve final y fal en in love, with a f**kin’ brownie!” It was a nice thing to say, especial y from Tex. I smiled at him, ful -on, forgetting for a second that Eddie was there.

Only a second, because Eddie muttered something under his breath and I looked at him, stil smiling a bit. Then, I realized where I was, about four inches away from Eddie Chavez, and the smile died on my face. He was stil staring at me, but now he was staring at my mouth.