Unholy Matrimony by Peg Cochran

the church newsletter. She still hadn’t completely mastered the computer, but she could press print with the best of them. Then it was just a matter of running the pages through the folding gizmo, slapping on the address labels and slipping them through the postage machine.
    By the time she was done, she realized Flo would be getting off work at the plastic surgery clinic where she acted as receptionist and secretary. Flo had had Lucille’s back since they became best friends in second grade, and Lucille didn’t want to approach the Grabowskis without her. Flo could be a bit hotheaded at times, but in a fight she knew how to throw a mean right hook and her pointy-toed stiletto heels sure as hell came in handy.
    They decided they would leave Flo’s car at the clinic—Lucille’s lumbago was acting up, and trying to squeeze into Flo’s low-slung car wasn’t going to do it no good.
    As soon as Flo settled herself in the passenger seat, Lucille plugged in her Little Richard tape and they were off. She shot out of the driveway a little faster than she meant to and Flo gave her a sharp look.
    Flo pulled down the visor on the passenger side and scowled. “I keep forgetting you don’t have no mirror,” she said, flipping the visor back into place. She patted her hair. “I had lunch with Dr. Hacker today.”
    “Dr. Hacker?”
    “He’s the lead surgeon at the clinic. Very handsome. Drives a gorgeous red Ferrari.”
    Lucille whistled. “He must be rolling in it.”
    “He is. He has a boat down the shore and a house in the Poconos. He just got divorced, and all the ladies are after him.” Flo smiled archly. “But it’s obvious I’m the one he’s attracted to.”
    “Where did he take you for lunch?”
    Flo shifted in her seat. “We didn’t exactly go . . . out.”
    “You’re not telling me . . .”
    “No, no,” Flo protested. “Nothing like that. We really did have lunch together—just not out. We ate in the breakroom.”
    “So did he order something special for you? Some of that raw fish stuff that all these young kids are so keen on?”
    Flo squirmed some more. “Not exactly. We got sandwiches from the deli down the street.”
    “Still, that’s nice that he bought you lunch.”
    Lucille glanced at Flo out of the corner of her eye. Flo’s face was flushed red.
    “Okay, Lucille, the truth is he was ordering from the deli and asked if I wanted anything, okay? But he did join me in the breakroom. Sat right next to me, too. I just know he likes me.”
    Lucille started to open her mouth but then decided against it. At least Flo wasn’t crying over Marco anymore—he had been way too young for her, but Flo had refused to see that. Of course, it didn’t help that he had left her for an even older woman. One with money.
    Lucille had only been to the Grabowskis once, for cocktails right after Bernadette and Taylor got engaged. The house was on Pine Way—probably one of the most exclusive streets in New Providence—and was stone-fronted with a circular drive and immaculate landscaping. Well, that made sense, Lucille thought, given that Alex was a hedge fund manager.
    Flo let out a long, low whistle as they pulled into the drive. She got out of the car and stared up at the house. “I think I’ll marry this Taylor guy myself. This is some setup. I can’t believe that tramp Donna DeLucca got this lucky.”
    Lucille followed her up the front steps and rang the bell.
    They could hear it pealing melodically inside the house, but after several minutes the door remained closed. Flo poked Lucille. “Ring again. Probably takes them ten minutes to get to the front door in a place this size.”
    Lucille had her finger on the bell when the door was thrown open.
    “Yes?” the red-haired woman standing there asked impatiently.
    She had a faint accent and was wearing white silk pajamas with a matching robe. She had several strands of pearls and diamonds draped around her neck, rings on every finger and a pair of