six weeks?”
“I guess he’ll just have to do what every other man does when he’s got a fake fiancé. Invest in some Playboys.”
Cassandra laughed. “I wonder if you can still get the ones with Anna Nicole.”
Mackenzie glared at her. “I am going to the stylist this afternoon to get this changed back to brown.”
“If he’s any good, and he is, he won’t do it. Bad for your hair.”
“Oh, he’s going to. Even if I have to threaten him with Christine O’Connor. I can’t go to New York looking like this. This is California hair.”
Cassandra started to laugh, then stopped. “You’re totally right. This is California hair.” She looked at Mackenzie appraisingly. “I need to get me some California hair. Do you think California hair could turn a gay man straight?”
Mackenzie squeezed her hand. “Probably not, but it sure would make him wish it could.”
Cassandra grabbed a lock of Mackenzie’s hair and held it across her forehead. “It might make me care less that he doesn’t want to marry me and impregnate me with his hot, glistening body. Give me the name of that stylist.”
“Want me to give you the thousand bucks it cost as well?”
Cassandra choked. Then dropped Mackenzie’s hair. “Eh. I’ve always got my dreams.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And now I have two leading men. Gonna have to juggle them, I think. Even in my dreams I don’t want Shane getting a peek at Mr. Charming.”
Cassandra perused the closet and Mackenzie watched her. She finally said, “You’re making yourself miserable about Shane. You need to move on.”
Cassandra let out a laugh. “Tell me how to move on.”
Mackenzie shook her head. She’d never been in love. Had never wanted to be. “I don’t know how. But I think you need to. You’re not going to find anyone else if you keep mooning over Shane.”
“I don’t want to give him up. I like him and I love him. And if that means I am going to die unmarried and childless, then I will.”
“You know I’m the last person who would tell you marriage and family is all there is.”
Cassandra pointed a finger at her. “You don’t want to get married. You don’t even want to date.”
“I don’t. But I think you do.”
Cassandra took a deep breath. “Maybe I want him more than I want some mythical promise about undying love. And maybe I want children, but then I look at the reality and I think maybe not. What I have right now is better than that gigantic maybe.”
She started ripping clothes off hangars. “He can’t give me everything I need? Well, no man can. There’s always something you wish you could change but it’s not a dealbreaker.”
“You’re telling me this isn’t a dealbreaker? He’s gay.”
Cassandra shrugged, throwing clothes into the suitcase. “I guess it’s not my dealbreaker.”
Mackenzie pulled the clothes back out and started folding them before placing them neatly back inside. “And if he finds someone else?”
“It will probably kill me. But I have to think that whoever he falls in love with I’ll probably like, too. He can find a lover, he can get married. But I’ll still be part of him.”
Mackenzie looked at the ferocious look on her friend’s face. She knew Shane loved Cassandra and would never purposefully hurt her. But talk about a hopeless love triangle. Mackenzie could only hope that if Shane ever found a man he loved enough to marry that Cassandra didn’t take a dive off the nearest overpass. Or push the newbie off.
Cassandra held up a short, colorful dress. She stared Mackenzie in the eye, daring her to continue the conversation about Shane. “What is this horrible monstrosity?”
Mackenzie said, “It’s an authentic Hawaiian muumuu. It’s very comfortable. I just throw it over leggings on the weekend.” Mackenzie held out a hand for it. “I’ll take it with me.”
“No way in hell. I’m burning this.” Cassandra eyed it, then Mackenzie. “Are you a virgin? Do you want to die one?”
“No. I think it’s cute.”
“It’s like every fashion decision you make is made to repel men.” Cassandra grabbed her hand and dragged her to the living room.
Cassandra sat down at the computer and pulled up a celebrity site. She pointed to the dress Mackenzie had worn last night. “This is cute and sexy.” She pointed to the muumuu. “This is not. See the difference?”
Mackenzie took one look at last night her, then headed for the couch to lie down. “Oh, God.”
Cassandra looked at the pictures. “You look so. . . flustered. What were