A Total Waste of Makeup Read Online Free PDF Page A

spent three months trying to get her to call him, saying things like I think it’s possible he might like her, and Dawn spent three months saying, “Don’t be silly.”
    As Dawn calls, I open my notebook and write:
    If a man gives you three different ways to get in touch with him, he’s interested in you. This is not rocket science. Don’t play dumb.

    “Hi, Drew. This is Dawn Fraiche. I’m a friend of…Well, that’s uncanny ! How on earth did you remember me?”
    I let my face fall into my hands.
    Dawn continues talking to my boss. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh…Well, aren’t you sweet?…No. Listen, I’m about to go into a canyon, but I just want you to know Charlie’s having problems with her phone, so if you need to call her, can you call my cell phone instead…? Fabulous. The number’s 323-555-8642.”
    “ No, what?” I whisper to her.
    She covers her phone. “What?”
    “You said no to him. What were you saying no to?”
    Dawn waves me off with her hand and returns to her conversation.
    “I’m afraid I can’t,” she says into the phone. “Charlie and I are having a Girls’ Night Out. Maybe some other time….”
    Dawn makes staticky sounds, then yells, “I’m losing you! Bye!” and clicks off her phone. “He wants you to know some friends of his are taking him to Maui for the weekend, so he probably won’t be calling, and he’ll see you on the set first thing Monday morning.”
    “What did you say no to?” I ask, trying not to sound panicked.
    “Oh, that was weird. He asked if I wanted to fly out and spend the weekend with him and his friends. Isn’t that bizarre?”
    Clueless. Absolutely clueless.
    Before I have a chance to answer, we pull up to Kate’s office building. Kate is standing in front in a green Armani business suit, holding a large black leather briefcase, and talking to someone on her cell phone. One can only assume it’s Jack.
    “Look, the girls are here. I gotta go…Yeah, me too. Bye.” Kate slams her phone shut, and gets into the limo. She mutters to herself, “The things we put up with for sex on tap…”
    As Dawn pours her a glass of champagne, Kate falls into a seat across from us, and gives an exhausted sigh. “From now on, do not use the F word, the C word, the B word, or the R word in my company.”
    The R word. Dawn and I exchange confused glances. I know I will regret this, but I cannot help myself: “What’s the R word?” I ask Kate.
    “Relationship.”
    Fair enough, I think. Very Rulesish not to use the R word.
    Now Dawn can’t help herself. “Wait, then the B word would be…?”
    “Boyfriend,” Kate says.
    Well, now I’m just confused. “Okay, so then the C word would be…?”
    “Commitment.”
    I nod and smile. Just got it. “Which would make the F word…” and we all say together, “Future.”
    “Honestly, Kate, why don’t you just marry the poor guy?” Dawn asks.
    “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Kate says as she throws her phone into her purse, pulls a little black dress from her briefcase, and takes off her jacket.
    Dawn knew it was a loaded question. Since their senior year in college, Jack and Kate have not been planning their wedding, they’ve been planning their breakup. But, as Kate once pointed out, you have to really commit to a breakup for it to take. It takes as much of a commitment to break up as to move in together. You have to say to yourself, “I really don’t want to spend the rest of my life with this person. And I’m willing to put in the time and energy necessary to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
    Trying to change the subject, I smile proudly and say, “Dominique de Villepin.”
    “What?” Kate says as she unbuttons her blouse.
    “The French prime minister. It’s Dominique de Villepin.”
    “I thought it was Jacques Chirac,” Dawn says.
    Kate pulls off her blouse, wearing nothing on top but a red velvet bra. “No, he’s the president, not the prime minister.”
    “Oh, that’s