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over-the-top dinners with their silly themes. Sometimes it was hard to keep a straight face. Especially the April Showers dinner Laurel gave, in which every drink had an umbrella, strings of raindrop-shaped glass beads hung over the table, and the place names were written on doll-size rubber rain boots. Frankly, she didn't understand why Laurel went to all that work. Why not just have her parties catered? Zora couldn't imagine actually cooking.

      Zora paced back and forth in front of the window until she saw Nathan's car pull into the driveway. She heard the front door open and Nathan's heels click along the marble entry floor. Zora filled the chilled glasses and dropped a pistachio-filled olive in each.

      Nathan trudged into the living room, shoulders sagging; shadows underlined his eyes. Zora kissed him on the cheek, then rubbed off her lipstick mark off with her thumb."You look exhausted."

      He collapsed onto the beige leather couch.

      Zora handed him his martini. "You'll be glad to know we don't have to go to the Hardestys' tonight. The party's been canceled."

      "I would expect so," he said glumly.

      Zora raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

      "Wes got the axe today."

      A few drops of gin spilled from Zora's glass onto the Oriental carpet."No wonder Laurel didn't want to talk. Why ?"

      "You heard the rumors that the company would be sold."

      Zora hadn't paid much attention.

      "A lot of people lost their jobs today." Nathan raised his glass to his lips and took a swallow. "But the shareholders will be happy."

      "What about your job?" At his level, he should be untouchable."They need you."

      Nathan drained his glass. "Don't worry."

      Zora sat on the arm of the couch. "A strange thing happened when I tried to call you. I got the main number."

      He flushed. "They're redoing the phone system. My line must be down."

      "Not for long, I hope." She stood up and took his glass. "We're due at the Club in twenty minutes."

      Nathan sighed. "Can't we stay home?"

      "I have nothing here. I thought we'd be at Laurel's." She took his glass. "We'll have a nice quiet dinner."

      The Club hostess led them to a table in a corner near the kitchen.

      "Don't you have anything better?" Zora asked, looking pointedly at an empty table near the windows that overlooked the golf course.

      "They're all reserved."

      Ordinarily Zora would have stood her ground and insisted on the better location, but she was glad to get anything at all on such short notice.

      The room was bustling. The few empty tables had Reserved signs. The waiters rushed in and out of the swinging kitchen door, irritating Zora, though Nathan didn't seem to notice. When their waiter finally approached, Zora ordered lobster tail and a glass of Chardonnay.

      Nathan handed the waiter his menu."I'll have a martini. Make it a double. And the clam chowder,"

      "Is that all?" Zora asked. Nathan always ordered the prime rib.

      "I'm not hungry."

      She leaned across the table and touched his forehead. "Are you sure you're all right?"

      He brushed her hand away. "I'm fine. Just tired."

      Zora glanced toward the door. "Look who just came in," she said. "Craig and his child bride." Her eyes followed them as they were led to the table she coveted. In a sea of homogenous middle-aged diners, Caprice stood out -- tall and slim with long blonde Alice-in-Wonderland hair. Zora's hand involuntarily went up to her own neatly sprayed, freshly highlighted bob.

      Nathan didn't look up. The waiter appeared and set their drinks in front of them.

      Zora glanced around the room. "Why don't we have our Christmas party here for a change? I'll ask Antonio if the banquet room is available."

      Nathan swirled his drink. "Let's skip the party this year."

      She took a sip of wine."We can't do that. Everybody looks forward to it." Zora leaned forward, lowering her voice. "If we don't, people will think they weren't invited. You don't want to offend anyone."

      Nathan took a slug of his drink."Let's not talk about it now."

      Zora decided not to pursue the subject. He was obviously upset by the events at work. Having their annual party was clearly the right thing to do. It would be insurance to help cement his position - just in case. She'd make all the arrangements and present it to him as a fait accompli. Nathan wouldn't have to do a thing.

      She tried to think of something amusing to cheer him up. Since her day had been spent getting her hair and nails done after a morning of bridge, she had little ammunition. Somehow she didn't think he'd be distracted by her description of her bridge hands.

      Fortunately, the waiter appeared with their food, and the need for conversation was allayed. Zora picked at her lobster tail, careful not to get a drop of melted butter on her dress. Nathan toyed with his soup, barely touching it. The waiter came over to ask if anything was wrong. Nathan shoved the bowl away and asked for the check.

      On the way out, Zora headed toward Craig's table.

      "Where are you going?" Nathan asked, placing his hand on her arm.

      "To say hello."

      Nathan tugged at her sleeve."I don't think they want to be disturbed."

      She plucked his hand off. "They've seen us. We can't ignore them. "

      Nathan lagged behind as she led the way to Craig's table.

      "What a coincidence," she said brightly.

      Craig stood up, but Zora flicked her wrist. "Please sit. We were just on our way out."

      Caprice flashed a porcelain smile.

      Craig resumed his seat and nodded to Nathan.

      Nathan placed a hand on Zora's back and guided her away.

      Once outside, Zora hooked her arm into his. "Why didn't you say something?"

      "Didn't you see they wanted to be left alone?"

      "It wouldn't hurt to say hello. You shouldn't be rude to him. He's still your boss."

      Nathan placed his hand over hers. "I'll keep that in mind."

      As they drove home, Zora's mind was on their annual party. Christmas was three months off, but it was not too soon to start planning. There was the room to book, a menu to decide, invitations to be engraved. No, it was none too soon.

      On a beautiful Indian Summer day under a brilliant Northern California sun, Charlotte Armstrong was about to enter the Fairbrook Country Club for the first time since her divorce to meet with the man who had replaced her with a woman half her age six years before. This would be the first time she'd been alone with Craig since he'd left. He hadn't even spoken to her at their son's high school graduation four years ago. Of course with his new wife hanging on his arm, that would have been awkward. Since then, she hadn't even seen him, although she often saw his photo in the newspaper: either in the business section as Power House CEO, or at a social event with his young wife/ former secretary, beaming at his side. They lived in the same town, but different worlds.

      When she heard his voice on the telephone yesterday her heart started pounding so loudly she thought he must have heard it across the phone lines. She had been so stunned she had accepted without thinking. "I need to talk to you, and I'd rather do it in person," he'd said. And she'd agreed. As soon as she'd hung up she wondered why she hadn't asked more questions. What was so important he couldn't tell her over the phone? She'd lain away all night -at least it seemed all night - wondering and worrying. Was it good news or bad? Was he ill? Terminal? Getting divorced again? Did he want her to take him back? Did she want him back? She didn’t know. This morning, she'd spent an hour agonizing

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