She had always made it home before, even if only after a fashion. That time she woke up in her car had been the single scariest moment of her life, or so she had thought. Now was worse, she realized. Now was so much worse. Lulu kicked at the tangled sheets until they finally released their hold on her ankles and she was able to sit up. Just assess the situation, she told herself. It can't be as bad as you're making it out to be. What did she know? What was the last thing she remembered? The party. She remembered the party. She had made sure not to drink anything. There was no trust to be found in the group she had hung out with last night. Their faces were nothing more than blurred memories. The fear, the mistrust: these were the only familiarities.

When had her life become so unbearable that she had had to turn to this means of existence? She couldn't remember the last time she had attended class; she had probably lost her scholarship. She couldn't bring herself to care. There were bigger problems out there beyond college, beyond grades, even beyond her family's approval. Beneath the beds, in the deep crevices of hallways there were monsters. They were the kinds of monsters who didn't look normal in the daytime. There was no hiding in the daylight, but she had a feeling they never made it a point to leave their sanctuary of darkness. She would never again patronize her nephew. She knew about monsters.

They lived in the hidden parts of her brain, these monsters. She was the only one who could see them, but certainly she would not be the last of their victims. It was impossible to know where her own perception ended and the drugs began because they had been constant adversaries for as long as she could remember…which she assumed wasn't saying much. She had missed Robin's precious dinner party. Her family's worried messages were stored on her answering machine. She didn't have to check to know they were there with their diluted assurances that they could help her. No one could help her now.

Slowly, she faced the man in bed with her. His name didn't come to her immediately, or at all. His face was hidden behind thick brown hair and he radiated of sweat and sex. She barely resisted the urge to throw up as she crawled toward the edge of the mattress and hurried to gather up her clothes. She felt dirty, but there was little she could do about it. As much as she wanted to believe last night had at least been protected, she knew better. This guy was a walking disease. Her stomach churned and her vision swam. She had to get out of here.

She found her car parked half-on, half-off the curb in front of Sleezy Guy's apartment. She was just thankful she had stuffed her keys in the back pocket of her blue jean skirt. She hadn't wanted to spend valuable time looking for it, hadn't wanted him to wake up and find her. A shudder ran through her. I have no one to go to, she realized as she started the car. Lately, the starter had been given her a lot of trouble, but it was being extra lenient today. Away, she thought. Far, far away from here.

Several floors up, Detective Evan Cassidy woke with a start. He blinked several times, taking in the harsh sunlight seeping in through his weak blinds. What had happened last night? One thing was for certain: he hadn't come home alone. Lulu Spencer. She had come back with him. He had been minding his own business when she caught his attention, and not in a good way. He knew he should have left the undercover work to the older watchdogs on the force, but the sudden splurge of drug trafficking had put him front and center. Never should have followed the girl, he chided himself, but he had known instinctively she was in trouble. What a chivalrous guy, he thought dejectedly. He saved her from one maniac only to end up having sex with her. She might have thought sneaking out on him was the last of it, but he knew better. Even if he wanted to forget her, his job made it impossible. "Lulu, what the hell did you get me into?" He asked aloud.

*****

"I never thought I would see the day where coming to Kelly's would be viewed as a special outing." Elizabeth laughed as she sat herself down at the table.

"Well there's a first time for everything." Robin placed her hands in her lap.

"True enough." Elizabeth picked up the menu and just as quickly put it down. What was the point? It only took a few trips to the diner to have the one page menu memorized. And she always ordered the same thing at any rate. "So did Lulu ever call to explain her absence?"

"Not a peep." Robin answered. "I'm not used to her being so quiet. I was sure she'd come storming into the apartment or something."

"Me too. If Lucky wasn't so distracted by the trial, he probably would have left to drag her kicking and screaming into the fun."

"Do you think anything's wrong?"

"It's hard to tell with Lulu. She could just be buried in her school stuff. Then again, she could be planning a third world revolution."

"I guess we'll know when she's ready for us to." Robin assumed. "How are my babies? Have they said 'Robin' yet?"

"Close but not exactly. Gracie has an ear infection so she's just a ball of sunshine."

"She's sick? Is there anything I can do?"

"No. She'll be fine." Elizabeth waved off Robin's request with a toss of her hands. Leave it to Robin to be close to delivering a baby several medical people told her was far too dangerous and still volunteer to watch a sick infant. "Besides she gets lullabies sung to her by Lucky. If she's anything like me, she'll be milking that for all its worth."

"'Lullabies?'"

"I caught him last night. He totally sings her to sleep."

"I knew there had to be a secret weapon. Did you get him on tape by any chance?"

"No. I'm trying to figure that out, but now that the sneak knows I know his secret weapon, he's going to try to be sneakier."

"It's too bad he's not as bad at being sneaky as he is at keeping secrets. You'd have him in the bag then."

"I know! Right now I have him all distracted by the birthday present, but eventually he will return to being himself again. And if I don't have it on tape by then, it will be utterly hopeless."

"Did he like it?"

"Understatement." Elizabeth smiled remembering exactly how Lucky expressed his appreciation for his present.

"I'd ask you to explain that blush, but I think I'd rather let my mind wander." Robin teased.

"I think that's a good plan there friend." Elizabeth taunted. "Now I do have a question for you."

"A question? Okay, shoot."

"You are all extra glowy and smiley today. I'm not complaining, but is there a reason?"

Robin nodded and withdrew her left hand from her lap to place it on the table. "Patrick asked me to marry him last night."

"Oh my God." Elizabeth grabbed at Robin's hand and stared at the ring decorating her friend's finger. "For real? He really proposed this time?"

"For real." Robin promised. "He hid my ring in one of his little race cars and challenged me to a rematch."

"Tell me you at least kicked his ass again before you said yes."

"Well, I definitely thought about it." Robin admitted.

"So this is for real. You're getting married!" Elizabeth jumped up and leaned over to hug her friend as hard as she could. "And to think a year ago we were busy trying to figure out what you should pack on your first date! I'm so happy for you two!"

"Thanks." Robin answered bashfully. "I still can't quite believe it." She looked down at the ring and then back at Elizabeth.

"I'm going to ask the annoying question now. Have you set a date yet?"

"He wants to get married before the baby's born so before September 17th." Robin explained.

"That is like ridiculously soon. Don't get me wrong I love the idea, but I'm guessing that nixes the huge, only Dillon could produce it, wedding spectaculaire right?"

"That's right." Robin nodded adamantly. "I want a small wedding."

"I guess the benefit of having a fake engagement then is all people are really waiting for you to do is set the date. We did find the good side to that whole thing. Alright. Small wedding. We probably need to start planning now then."

"The first thing I have to figure out is where we should have it." Robin decided. "What do you think? A church? No way am I expecting anyone to open up their house to have it. Too many things could go wrong."

"First off this is your wedding, so it's whatever you think. It is my job to make sure it happens."

"Thank you." Robin folded her hand over Elizabeth's. "God, I'm so excited I almost don't know where to start."

Squeezing her friend's hand, Elizabeth smiled warmly. "Good because you deserve it. As for where to start, I'm thinking with the dress. And we let the dress decide all other decisions. Finding the dress will help with deciding the where."

"Well, we'll be facing late summer, early fall temperatures so I'm thinking the fabric shouldn't be too heavy. No ten-mile train either." Robin smirked.

"Ok. I'm thinking Audrey Hepburn as our inspiration."

"Oh yes. Agreed. Off the shoulder, thin but not too thin material." Robin stopped. "God, I'm going to be even bigger by then. Do you think I can find a wedding dress with that much material?"

"If not we'll demand your cousin make you one."

"He wants to humiliate me. That's why it has to happen before the baby gets here. That's really why." Robin insisted, her eyes filling with tears.

Oh how much she missed mood swings, Elizabeth thought with a silent chuckle. "Robin. He loves you. He wants to marry you right now because that is what you do when you are engaged to the right person. You don't want to wait."

"Next time, he's carrying the baby." Robin grumbled.

"I told Lucky there will never be a next time."

"I didn't say I'd be carrying it." Robin laughed. "Okay, I don't really think the dress should be white. It's like Miranda said, 'I have a baby. The jig is up.'"

"And I say if you want a white dress, you should have a white dress. Let's agree to wait till we hit the store and see if there are any pretty colors. I will not have you walk down the aisle in something that resembles a pumpkin."

"Promise?" Robin's bottom lip trembled.

"Swear it."

"Okay, let's figure out my favorite part: the food."

*****

The phone rang incessantly from its spot on Maxie's dresser. She considered ignoring it; after all, she was already twenty minutes late for work. There was no telling why she answered it, only that she was grateful she did. Unlike Robin, Maxie Jones did believe in destiny. It was why she hadn't given up on her dream unlike so many of her high school friends. She wasn't sure how many times it had actually rung when she finally reached for it. "Hello?"

A soft, but determined voice responded forcefully, "May I speak with Maxie Jones please?"

"This is she. What can I do for you?" Maxie wondered, slightly intrigued.

"Miss Jones, I was about to give up trying to reach you." Leann admitted condescendingly.

"I was walking out the door when I heard the phone." Maxie explained. "I'm actually running late for work."

"You might want to call in then." Leann suggested.

Maxie tilted her head in confusion, forgetting Leann couldn't see her. "I'm sorry, why were you calling again? I forget."

"I never explained. As I said, my name is Leann. I'm Miss Blotski's assistant—"

"Feona Blotski?" Maxie squeaked.

"That's right. I see you've heard of Feona." Leann sounded rather pleased.

"Heard of her?" Maxie chuckled unnervingly. "I've followed her career my entire life."

"Honestly Miss Jones it's ironic that one of your sketches fell into Feona's hands to begin with. It's not like you have even attended a fashion school."

"No I haven't." Maxie heard herself say.

"And why should you get ahead when there are thousands ahead of you who have gone to one of the elite fashion academies and finished with a degree?" Maxie recognized the question as rhetorical so she let Leann continue with her rant. "Why should you be allowed to participate in a race that you've not even entered your name in?" Leann took a grinding breath. "However, Feona is interested in meeting with you a week from today at four p.m."

Maxie was certain she was having some out-of-body experience as the conversation went on. Feona wanted to meet her? How had she even gotten her current sketches? Anything Maxie had sent out had been returned as uncertified mail. She could spend the rest of her life trying to figure out who had done it or she could return to her body and not make an ass of herself. She voted for Option B. "Leann, I can't tell you how much this means to me. I will not make you regret it."

"Miss Jones, I was naïve once so I'll give you some advice. Are you listening? Neither I nor Feona give a fig about your promises. Your word has no backing behind it. You're a nobody. You've managed to miraculously land yourself a meeting with one of the biggest names in Vogue, but don't believe for a second that that guarantees you anything. The fashion industry is more difficult to get into than any Ivy League university and time literally is money. You'll be expected to bring some different sketches with you and at any time Feona has the right to end the meeting and throw you out. You are not to contact her again unless she establishes contact."

"I understand." Maxie replied matter-of-factly.

"See that you do. Feona's time is not to be wasted. Come by the main office thirty minutes before your meeting. Do you have a pen?" Leann gave Maxie the address and hung up the phone without another word.

Previews:

"And which of us is dressing up like a woman?"

"You have the better legs."