A Total Waste of Makeup by Kim Gruenenfelder Page B

young wife angrily introduce herself to me as “Mrs. Jones—Frank’s wife” and verbally piss around her territory to let me know he’s taken.
    Dawn walks up to Jordan and me, sans Drew. “Hi, I’m Dawn. You must be Jordan.” I glare at her. How would she know that if I hadn’t told her all about him?
    “I must be,” he says, a little confused. “I’m surprised Drew has talked about me.”
    Dawn looks at me as I shake my head ever so slightly in disapproval.
    “Um…okay,” she says, putting her hand on my back and steering me away. “Listen, do you mind if I steal my girl for a minute?”
    At that moment, Drew bounds up to us, a martini in each hand. “Dawn, I told you it would only take them a minute to make a martini without gold leaf. Why did you leave me?”
    “Well, sweetie, I just assumed that you would want to go greet your other guests. I didn’t want to get in the way.”
    “What other…”
    Dawn points to the two other couples, and Drew frowns. “Oh. Right.” He hands her a plain martini, and Jordan a gold one. “Promise me you won’t move from this spot.”
    “I promise,” she assures him.
    Drew rushes away from us to greet his other guests. The three of us stare in his direction. He’s so hyped up, I would swear he was on cocaine if I didn’t know for a fact that he never touches the stuff. (“Kills my pot buzz,” he insists.)
    Dawn gently pushes Jordan toward Drew and the other guests. “Wouldn’t it be divine if you got some snaps of the guests arriving. You know, before they’re all drunk and bleary eyed?”
    “Oh, yeah,” Jordan says, snapping to attention. “Charlie, can you watch my drink?”
    “Sure. It would be my honor.”
    “Thanks,” he says, smiling that perfect smile, handing me his martini, and walking away.
    “I’ll be right here,” I continue stupidly. “We’re not going anywhere. Don’t let your martini get warm. Umph…”
    Dawn puts her hand over my mouth. “What’s our rule?”
    If you can’t say something intelligent to a cute guy, shut the hell up!

    “Correct,” Dawn says, taking her hand off my mouth. She takes a sip of her martini. “Okay, now I have big news, but it’s totally on the D.L.”
    I look at her blankly. “The what?”
    “The D.L. You know, the downlow?”
    I continue to look at her blankly. Dawn bites her inner cheek. “You know, sometimes I’m amazed you’ve ever had a black friend. The downlow: it means it’s a secret!”
    “Ooohhh…” My face lights up. “Is it about Justin Timberlake being gay?”
    “No, it’s about someone we know…So he’s definitely gay?” Dawn asks, totally losing interest in her own gossip.
    “I have no idea. You worked with him. So what’s the gossip?”
    Dawn looks around the room to make sure no one’s listening. “Guess what I did all day?” Dawn says in that I know something you don’t know singsongy tone. “You will never guess.”
    “Discovered the secret to cold fusion,” I deadpan.
    “I went engagement-ring shopping.”
    I stare at Dawn, in shock. She smiles and nods her head. I immediately leave her in a huff to give Drew a piece of my mind. “Oh, for God’s sake. He’s met you once, and talked to you on the phone twice. Drew!” Dawn flips me back around. “Not for me. For Kate. I went with Jack.”
    “Jack?”
    “He’s gonna propose tonight,” she beams. “Like, for real. He got a room at the Hotel Bel Air, and he’s going to take her there for drinks tonight, pop the question with a Tiffany’s one-and-a-quarter-carat diamond solitaire, set in platinum, then retire for the evening in the room to celebrate. Isn’t that romantic?”
    “Wow,” I say, stunned.
    “Do you think she’ll ask me to be the maid of honor?” Dawn asks.
    “If she loves me, she will,” I retort.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Have you been paying any attention to the hell I’ve been going through being my sister’s maid of honor?”
    “That’s different. Your sister’s