The Bachelorette Party Read Online Free PDF Page B

normal girl at a bar is now competing with Grade-A snatch to hump a guy who’s a “four” at most.
    The single men in Los Angeles are different. Especially the actors. The male actor ego needs constant encouragement so if you are a comely lass with encouragement to give, it will fall on handsome, receptive ears. Jack needed Zadie’s kind words when he was a nobody. Once he became a somebody, he had fans to give it to him. And an agent. And a manager. And a lawyer. And a publicist. And a producer. And a costar. And any random bimbo who happened to recognize him at the Sky Bar. Who needs a wife when you have all that? Who needs a wife when you are now in line to get the Grade-A snatch?
    Of course there were the men who claimed they were tired of all the beautiful brainless girls and just wanted a nice, smart, wholesome teacher to settle down with. These men were full of shit.
    Grey returned to her side right as her parents made their way over. “Mr. and Mrs. Roberts—thanks for coming!” Zadie stared at him. Did he just speak with an exclamation point? Was it contagious?
    Zadie’s parents had met Grey at the Get-Zadie-Out-of-Her-Apartment intervention Helen had organized last winter. It was successful. They all went to Jerry’s Deli. Woo fucking hoo.
    “How are you, kiddo?” Her father looked around the room as he asked it, hoping she wouldn’t answer honestly.
    “I’m fine, Dad. How are you?”
    “Recovering from tax time.” He looked over at the bar, spotting Grandma Davis swigging down a Bellini. “Mavis, your mother is drinking.”
    Mavis Roberts (formerly Mavis Davis) pushed her husband toward her mother.
    “Go stop her, Sam.” As if it were his duty as her husband to keep her mother from getting hammered.
    “Let me help.” Grey led Sam over to the bar, where they proceeded to force-feed Grandma some canapes. Oh, God. Zadie was alone with her mother. Mayday.
    “You look sick.” Always pleasant to hear. But Zadie knew Mavis wasn’t done yet. “Are you not getting enough sun?” To the rest of the world, a tan was a deadly thing. To Californians, it was a badge of health. Unless you lived in Beverly Hills, where you would actually see women with parasols, sheltering the new skin they just bought from a baby seal away from the blistering sun.
    “I’m fine, Mom. I’ve just been working a lot.”
    “You get off at four. The sun’s still out.”
    “Not on my balcony.”
    “You can’t go to the beach?” Mavis and Sam had met at the beach during a pig roast in the late sixties. Very Gidget. Mavis was convinced that Zadie’s destiny was lying in the sand near the Santa Monica pier. All Zadie could find in Santa Monica were homeless men who wanted her change. She recently gave a bum a dollar because he told her she was pretty.
    “Mom, stop. I’ll get some sun when school ends.” Oh, God, it was almost summer. What was she going to do for three months? Maybe she could pick up a summer school class. Or teach a creative writing elective. Maybe Trevor would sign up and come without his shirt on. She downed her glass of wine, trying to block out the thought. Thank God he was graduating.
    “There’re some handsome men at this party. Have you noticed?” Mavis asked.
    Zadie looked over her mother’s head, which wasn’t hard to do given that Mavis was barely five two, and saw a guy with dark hair and a green shirt standing by the bar. He had the shape Zadie liked. Tall and broad shouldered. Some women preferred the skinny, androgynous rock star type, but Zadie wasn’t one of them. If women were expected to uphold the Betty Boop body ideal, then goddammit, men owed them some muscles. She
watched as Green Shirt took a sip of his beer and made her Aunt Josephine laugh. Three years ago, Zadie would’ve had no problem sidling up to him and making clever conversation, but now there seemed to be little point.
    She looked back at her mother. “No. I hadn’t noticed.”
    Before Mavis could protest,