The Best Friend's Guide to Surviving Matrimony (and All That Other Happy Shit)

I gazed at myself in my compact mirror, ensuring once more that my lids were just smoky enough, that my pupils weren't too dilated. I poked at my smudged eyeliner with the tip of my pinkie. “Ugh.”

“Right up here, Miss Hough?”

My eyes flicked up to the windshield. We were passing rows of familiar houses, their faces eerie and nearly unrecognizable in the tenebrous lamplight that lined the sidewalk, but still distinct enough. After the numerous times I’d completed this journey, I knew this neighborhood as well as the inside of my own enormous purse. “Yep. On the right.”

The boy's emerald eyes darted to meet mine in the rear view mirror, a hint of apprehension swimming in them. “Are you sure you're well enough to go to this party, Miss Hough? This may be a bad idea...”

Chortling, I rolled my eyes. “I'm a big girl, Jer. I think I can handle a little Mary Jane. Besides, if you're well enough to be driving me here, then I'm certainly well enough to attend.”

He nodded, but those green eyes still probed worryingly into the back seat.

Earlier that afternoon, after a quick visit from an old friend, I’d called Jeremy into my office and closed the door behind him. When he'd asked (nervously, of course) what I’d needed him for, I simply raised the baggie of bud between us and smiled.

We ended up toking in my office for a good two hours. I hadn't taken mousy little Jeremy as the kind to enjoy a little recreational pot, but the kid sure could hold his smoke. He'd turned down the vodka shots I offered, but he wasn't a total party pooper. In fact, he was kinda funny when he wasn't being an uptight desk boy. And sexy, actually, with his eyes half-lidded and his lips curved up in a delusional little smirk. He kind of looked a tiny bit like Satchel. Hence the reason I’d taken it upon myself to lock the door, shove him down into my desk chair, and ride him right into the seat of that gawdy, winged, leather, piece of shit throne. Never before had I ever seen him so shocked – or satisfied.

After the pot and the free fuck, it wasn't difficult to convince him to be my chauffeur. He'd driven me back to my condo and waited in his squeaky clean Lincoln town car while I showered and got ready, and now he was driving me to Satchel's house for the festivities. Hence the reason I’d loaded up on sedatives – I wanted to be the epitome of “cool motherfucker” as I rolled into possibly the most agonizing party of my life. With a set of nerves like mine, there was no way to accomplish a calm demeanor but through copious amounts of substance. Not that I minded.

Jeremy pulled up to the big beige house a few moments later. There were little white lanterns scattered up the walk and the porch, creating a luminescent glow about the lawn. People stood around here and there, bottles and cigarettes clutched in hand as they chatted and laughed. No sign of Satchel. No sign of his girl toy. No sign of Jo, of Mike, of anyone I could possibly cling to for moral support. Maybe I wasn't plastered enough for this.

Jeremy turned in his seat to look at me. His eyes were still glossy pink from the smoke, but he was sober enough to retain his usual anxious frown as he examined me over. “I'm not so sure about this.”

Though my stomach did turn, it was easy to ignore with my head in the clouds. I gave him a smirk. “Good thing I don't pay you to be sure, huh?”

His expression didn't change. “Just don't do anything you're going to regret.”

It was strange getting this kind of brotherly advice from Jeremy, who seldom said anything more than necessary to me in the first place. It may have been a bad sign that the person who avoided me most was specifically telling me to watch myself.

I smiled at him regardless, collecting my purse and scooting forward in the seat. “I regret nothing.” Leaning forward, I caught his lips in a quick kiss. I was sure to give him a little tongue for good measure. Then, pulling away, I popped open the door and shot him a wink. “Thanks, Jer.”

I got out and closed the door. Without another thought as to what my game plan was, I strutted my way up the walk and meandered my way inside, smiling smugly as I noticed the eyes following me the whole way.

As soon as I entered the crowded foyer, my eyes began to scan the faces for a certain strong jawline and set of hazel eyes. He was my first and sole target. I could pick up more victims along the way, but for now, my sights were set on Satchel. My eyes searched the herd of wannabes and yuppies for a few long minutes. I saw no long-haired beauties – none that were my Satchel – so I ambled into the fray, shrugging to myself. I’d find him eventually. Mingling never hurt.

I worked my way through the crowd, saying hi to anyone I recognized (or didn't). I stopped to spend a few minutes reminiscing about motorboats and mai tais with Rikki Rachtman, who was generous enough to get me a drink and point me in the direction of the party host. It only took about thirty minutes and ten cheek kisses to conquer the swarm, and when I finally made it to the less-crowded back deck, it wasn't difficult to find my trophy. My hazy grin grew wide and my heart fluttered despite all the downers pumping through me. There, leaning against the railing in a deep red button up and the tightest slacks I’d ever seen, was my Satchel. The moonlight made his flowing hair shine, his smile luminous. If it weren't for the narcotics, my knees surely would have went weak.

Although he already appeared to be in mid-conversation with a guest I didn't recognize, I didn't hesitate before calling out, “Hey there, Sexy!”

That caught the attention of nearly everyone in the vicinity. However, when he turned around to see who'd yelled, Satchel's eyes lit up in a way that put the moon to shame. He met me halfway across the deck in a tight embrace. “Hey! You made it!”

I stepped back, giving him an eye. “You think I’d miss this for the world?”

“You didn't seem too thrilled about it when I called,” he shot back, mock glaring.

“Hell, I never turn down an excuse to party!” I pulled him in again, giving him a big, deliberately too-long kiss on the cheek. “You look like a fucking god tonight, by the way. Since when has your ass been that tight?”

He laughed loudly, a sign that he'd had a few drinks. “You most not look too often.” Little did he know. “Speaking of, where the hell did you get that dress? The toddler's department? Jesus.”

“So it's a bit small. A little exposé never hurt anybody.”

He gave me a once over and wiggled his brows. “Tell me about it, woman.”

I shot him a wink in reply. If I weren't numb, my heart would have quaked. No, I thought, He definitely isn't ready for monogamy. Not yet.

“So,” I said, nonchalantly swirling my brandy, “Where's the fiancee at? I wanna meet the lucky lady!”

“Oh, that's right! I almost forgot about that.”

I snickered internally. That's what I like to hear.

“Vivian! Hey, Viv! Come over here; there's someone I want you to meet.”

His eyes gave a little twinkle as he gazed across the deck, and I involuntarily turned to see at what he was ogling. For a moment, I felt myself fall all to pieces – she was gorgeous.

She had the most perfect hour glass body a girl could ask for, so curvy you could get lost for days; her thighs, her arms, her calves all toned to perfection. What was it? Pilates? Yoga? Did she run or swim or lift weights? Was she a body builder, for Christ's sake? The curve of her ass was just perfect, perfect enough to make a twinge of envy burn my chest. She walked effortlessly, making it look like an art as she crossed the deck and swept her chestnut curls over her shoulder. She arrived at Satchel's side, folding into his outstretched arm like she'd been doing it for years, big brown doe eyes glowing at me beneath his bicep in curiosity.

My heart forgot how to beat for a moment. This was my competition.

“Vivian,” Satchel said, gesturing to me with the hand that wasn't occupied with a palm-full of her ass, “This is my friend Carrie, the one I was telling you about.”

Well, at least he talked about me. Did that get me any points?

“Hey, Carrie!” Flashing me a flawless smile, she waltzed forward to envelope me in a big hug. “It's good to finally meet you; after everything Satchel's said, I couldn't wait to see you in the flesh.”

I found myself hugging back, a friendly chortle slipping past my lips with languid ease. “Knowing him, he probably didn't say anything all that nice!”

She let out a tinkling chime of laughter. “Trust me, he was a good boy. Now what he told you about me may be a different story...”

“I'm right here, ladies,” he protested.

I assured Vivian with a smile, “Nothing but the best.”

“That's what I thought,” Satchel muttered in playful forlornness.

“So, I suppose congratulations are in order for you two.” I raised my glass to them. “Here's to finally saddling the stallion.”

“Thanks. He was a hard one to catch, but I managed,” she teased.

He looked down at her, giving her a warm smile. “I'm glad you caught me, babe.”

The shared a quick kiss – just a peck, thank God – and pulled away to gaze into each other's eyes for a split second. The sparkle in his eye made my gut lurch. He looked at her with such adoration, such love, his pupils dilating in a way they never did when it was me he was looking at. You could just see it in his eyes: he loved her. She was his everything. There wasn't a single thing she could do that he wouldn't adore.

I felt a sudden flame rear up inside me and fill every inch of me with pure, hateful envy. It burnt my throat and made my heart hammer in my chest. Never before had I so badly wanted to reach forward and strangle someone. I had to clench my hands around my glass, telling myself to breathe even. I needed to leave.

“Well, I suppose I should go and catch up with the rest of the guys.” Their gooey staring contest broke so they could both look at me. “It was wonderful meeting you, Viv.”

“Oh, you too, hon.” She gave me another hug. “We'll have to talk more later.”

“Of course.” I gave Satchel another hug too, giving him one more sloppy smooch for spite. “Thanks for the invite, guys. I'll catch ya later!”

I turned with a wave and a smile and strolled back into the house, being sure to twitch my hips with every step I took, despite knowing that no one was looking anymore.