Free Impossible Glamour by Maggie Marr Page B

drink?”
    “Uh…” Webber tilted his head. “I guess so.”
    I removed the foil and popped the cork.
    “You do remember we had like eight shots together, right? In the past two hours.”
    “We danced that off,” I said. “The body in a state of rest can metabolize one drink an hour, and if you’re active it’s even more.”
    “Really?”
    I nodded. I was feeding Webber a total load of bullshit, but hey, I wanted some champagne and I didn’t want to drink alone. “Really.” I poured him a glass, then clinked my glass to his. “There’s a whole ’nother bottle in the fridge, so drink up, Webzie.”

 
Chapter 7
     
    Ellen
     
    “Be vewy, vewy quiet,” I said and rummaged through my handbag “We’re hunting wabbits.”
    “Okay, party girl. Let’s get you inside.” Webber took my bag from my hand, which was hilarious.
    “Party? There’s a party? Why can’t we go to the party?”
    “Because you’re going to bed.” Webber put my house key into the lock and opened the door to my town house.
    “No, no, no, no.” I stomped my foot. “I am on spring break without Kazowski, and I want to par-TAY!” I waved my hands in the air. Then fell forward.
    Webber caught me before my cement face-plant. “And you will. You can party like it’s your birthday, just not tonight.”
    “Not going inside.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I might be tipsy, but I’m not ready to go home.”
    “You’re drunk and you need to get your ass into bed before you upchuck. Your dad ordered me to get you home safe.”
    “I love Daddy.” A warm feeling blazed through my heart.
    “What’s not to love, doll? The man is a Legend.” Webber grasped my arm and gently tried to pull me inside. “Come on.”
    “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not going home yet.”
    “Doll, come on. Your dad told me I had to get your ass home safe, make sure you were asleep, and then I could leave.”
    “Nope.”
    “Fine.” Webber bent at the waist and suddenly the world was upside down.
    “What the hell? Webber! Oh my God, Webber!” I pounded his back with my fists.
    He carried me through the front door and Drummond raced down the stairs, barking the whole way.
    “Hey fella, you remember me?” Webber reached out his hand and Drummond sniffed, wagged his tail, and circled, doing his happy dance. My dog was thrilled to see Webber.
    “Traitor!”
    “More like a good judge of character. Babe, you don’t weigh much, but I’m not an action film star like your old man.” He walked up the stairs. “Which room?”
    “I’m not telling you.”
    “Hmm, let’s see. Vogue couture or dirty sweatpants. I’m going with dirty sweatpants.”
    “Webber!”
    “What, babe? No judgment. We are what we are.” He bent forward and put my feet onto the floor, and I fell back onto the bed, my giant hoop skirt billowing up near my head.
    “Kazow!” Webber said. “Sit up, babe.” He grasped my arms and pulled me up. “I can help you with those shoes.” He bent to my feet and unsnapped the tiny little clasps at my ankles. “How the hell do you get out of one of these things?”
    “Asks the ladies’ man.”
    “Look, my ladies usually don’t look like stock players from Gone with the Wind .”
    “Right? Exactly what I thought. Choo increased the volume of the skirts.”
    “Yes, he did. Stand up.” Webber spun me around. “Okay, doll, I’m taking one for the team.” He unbuttoned the back of my dress. “Jesus, how many of these are there?”
    “Thirty-six. I counted when she put it on me.”
    “And they are so friggin’ tiny. Girls. Girl land. Love it. Don’t understand it, that’s for sure.”
    “I don’t fit in at girl land.” A cascade of giggles burst from my mouth. The dress was nearly unbuttoned, and for the first time since early afternoon, a long, deep breath filled my lungs. I stepped out of the creation of lace and tulle and silk and wires and spun around with my arms over my head and fell back onto the bed.