The Kept Woman [antikvár]

T^he low hum of music and laughter droned in X Samantha Monroe's ears, and she began to feel woozy. Maybe it was the two margaritas. Maybe it was the hellish week she'd just put in at the salon. Maybe it was the latest threatening letter from Wee Ones Academy beginning with the ominous sentence: 'Due to your child's unresolved toileting issues, we must ask you to find other daycare arrangements within two weeks.' \ . . and then, you're not going to believe this!' Sam's best friend, Monté, continued entertaining the table with her blow-by-blow of last Saturday's date with the Mad Unzipper. Since Sam was quite familiar with the tale, she let her eyes wander through the happy-hour crowd at the Lizard Lounge, noticing the group of young, carefree women at the bar, enjoying life, and she had to wonder . . . had she ever looked that happy? Had she ever felt as vidld and sexy as those girls clearly did? Did she ever wear spike heels that high? Was she ever that young? Should she call Lily again to make sure Dakota ate his fish sticks and that Greg didn't indulge in more than an hour of PlayStation? iV ' ( < I ! H '' .I l