Free Flawless by Lara Chapman Page B

two go on to dinner.”
    Mom waves her comment away. “Let her try. She’s a genius with this kind of thing.”
    I open the printer door and pull out the toner, then pull about a dozen torn pieces of paper from the machine. When I replace the toner cartridge and reset the printer, papers begin printing and Jen sighs in relief. “I owe you.”
    â€œNo problem,” I answer. “Simple fix.”
    Mom laughs. “Everything’s simple for Sarah.”
    I have to stop myself from laughing out loud. There are a few things in my life that I don’t find simple. Not the least of which is my personal life.
    â€œAre you joining us for dinner?” I ask Jen, hoping she is. There’s something about her that I like, something that tells me she’s worth knowing.
    â€œSorry,” she answers. “I’ve got a deadline to meet. And thanks to this printer, I’m already running behind. Maybe next time.”
    â€œCount on it,” Mom says, then turns to me. “Ready to go, sweetie?”
    â€œDefinitely.” I turn to smile at Jen before following Mom. “It was really nice to meet you, Jen.”
    And for the very first time since I began meeting Mom’s coworkers over a decade ago, I honestly mean it.

    Kristen practically pounces on me when I jump into her Jeep the following morning. “What happened to you last night?” she demands.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I ask, doing my best to keep up with her rapid-fire words.
    â€œWhat do I mean?” she repeats, eyes wide, voice high and screechy. “What I mean is where were you when I called?”
    â€œI was at dinner with Mom. What’s the emergency?”
    â€œRock, that’s what!”
    Okay, now she’s got my attention. “Rock?”
    â€œYes. Rock.”
    â€œWhat about him?” I ask, heart pounding in my chest like the bass drum on the high school drum line.
    â€œHe replied .”
    â€œReplied to what?” I ask, lost for the sweetest little second before reality slaps me in the face. “Wait. He replied ? What’d it say?”
    Instead of answering, she pulls a folded sheet of paper from the glove box and drops it on my lap. I stare at it, dread filling my empty stomach.
    â€œOpen it!” Kristen demands, clapping her hands in urgency.
    I do as she says, unfolding the paper like a rattlesnake might jump out at me, and read the printed e-mail.
    Kristen,
    Thanks for the e-mail. I’d love to go to the Aquarium. But I insist on paying. That’s a deal breaker.
    â€œBarkis is willin’.”
    Rock
    Barkis is willin’.
    It’s like a punch in the gut just reading it. Knowing he wrote it about Kristen makes me positively nauseous.
    â€œDid you e-mail him back?” I ask, praying she hasn’t but almost wishing she has. I know that makes me a crummy friend and I hate I even thought it. Why would I want her to embarrass herself like that? Mom was right: men can ruin a woman’s other relationships.
    Kristen pulls away from the curb, then makes a sound somewhere between a howl and a laugh. “Not hardly. I don’t even understand what that quote means. How I am supposed to respond to that? And what am I going to do at dinner? I mean, if he starts talking like that, I’m going to fall flat on my face.”
    I clap my hand over her mouth to squelch her rising hysteria. “Calm down.” Removing my hand, I look at her. “Take three deep breaths.”
    I take the breaths with her, trying to think through her legitimate concerns. “Okay, are you ready to talk about this?” Am I ?
    She nods, eyes on the road, white knuckles grasping the steering wheel in a death grip.
    â€œFirst of all,” I say, “you have got to relax. I’ve never seen you this uptight before.”
    â€œI’ve never felt so stupid before. I’m totally freaking out. Who the hell is Barkis? And what, exactly, is he