Galilee Rising(13)

Dobbs fills me in on all I've missed in the three days I've been away on the drive to the Historical Society building. I tune out the story about the repairmen in the west wing as we cross over Pendergast Bridge. I drive over this testament to modern ingenuity twice a day but each time the memories flood back. Understandable though. I did try to kill myself on this bridge twenty-one years ago after my father was murdered. If that wasn't enough, that same night I met Justin and fell head over heels in love with him. He saved my life in so many ways. It's actually good to drive over this thing. Reminds me of why I go to these charity luncheons with those vapid women who thumb their surgically altered noses at me. It's what he'd do. It's hard, I hate it, but if I can help even one person, then it's all worth it. Just wish I didn't have to wear a damn dress and heels to do it.

I'm late as usual, so most of the women are already in the banquet hall for cocktails. Another problem with these things is the alcohol. My mouth waters at the sight of those Bloody Mary's and Mimosas. I move to one of the waiters carrying food. No wonder I've gotten so plump. Okay, quick appearance then leave. There are about twenty to thirty women here, all with ornate hats every color of the rainbow and enough diamonds to fill a conflict mine, which they all probably did at one time. A literal ray of light shines through the skylight onto Brittney "Bitsy" Armstrong's rose colored hat. Like almost every other woman here she's thin, tan, with straight brown hair and tucked everything. She holds court with a few women, only one of whom I don't know. Bitsy spots me scarfing down two cucumber sandwiches in the corner. Damn. She excuses herself and walks over, double kissing my cheeks. "You came!"

"Of course," I say.

Bitsy links her arm through mine and starts leading me back to her friends. "There is someone here you absolutely have to meet. She's a riot."

Lorna, Samantha, Rachel and Helena surround a tall woman dressed in a low-cut, bright red dress with cherries on it and matching pillbox hat. Edgy for this crowd. She's gorgeous with perfect tan skin, glossy dark brown hair cut in a pageboy, high cheekbones, and big brown doe eyes. I know her from somewhere I can't place. The other women paste fake smiles on, but the stranger's seems genuine. "Hello, all," I say.

"Joanna," Lorna says, "good to see you."

"Joanna, this is Alexia," Bitsy says of the stranger. "You know Alexia, the model. She's married to Brendan Darby, the new Galilee Angel's running back. Lexie, this is my good friend Joanna Fallon. She's head of Pendergast Industries."

"Delighted to meet you," Lexie says with a nod.

"Likewise. I love your dress."

"Thanks. Calvin made it especially with me in mind," she says, preening.

"He is such a sweet man," Samantha says as if she bore his children.

All the women are practically salivating having a real celebrity in their midst not just the usual socialites and business types like me. A supermodel is one step away from a movie star. This poor woman will be inundated with invitations to every event in town and a million calls for lunch. Good luck to her. "How do you like our fair city so far?" I ask.

"It's certainly friendly," she says with smiles all around.

"Friendliest city in the world," Lorna says, beaming.

My eyes roll involuntarily, and Lexie smirks. "Seems that way," she says.

"So you moved here because of your husband?" I ask.

She sips her mimosa. "Among other reasons."

"Brendan was with the Independence Eagles," Bitsy says to me before turning back to Lexie. "Joanna here doesn't follow football."

"Well, I won't hold that against her. I barely follow it too. I'm not big on violence."

"Amen to that," I say. The women tense up. They do that a lot around me.

Bitsy was trained from the womb for just this situation. Ever the hostess, she says, "You two have something else in common. Lexie, didn't you move into Grady Levine's house? She's your neighbor, Joanna."

She's one of the lovebirds then. "Really?"

"You know I think I've seen you running the shore," Lexie says. "You always look so determined when you run."

"And you always look very cozy with your husband," I say.

"You know how it is when you can't keep your hands off someone," she says, blushing. Me and the other women don't say a word. She smiles again. "Or not." Lexie clears her throat. "Will you all please excuse me? I have to powder my nose."

"I'll show you where it is," I say, eager to leave.

I lead the model away from the girls. "I don't really have to go," Lexie says.