Jack with a Twist by Brenda Janowitz Read Free Book Online Page A

think to myself, looking around the room at all of the good-looking eligible men. Not one is wearing a wedding ring, so they are all clearly single! Or about to be, any minute! What a great place to meet men—I wish I’d known about places like this back when I was single. And now that I’ve discovered this hot spot, I’m already engaged. Life can be so unfair sometimes.
    I wonder if Stephanie ever dates her hot clients after their divorces are final and they are free and single again. What? I mean once they aren’t her clients anymore, I’m not trying to insinuate she’d do anything unethical. Geez!
    As I stir my coffee, I notice the tray of mini cupcakes sitting next to the coffee set-up. Now, I know that I should be on a wedding diet, but now that Monique’s not designing my dress, maybe it would be okay to have just one cupcake. It suddenly dawns on me that now that Monique isn’t designing my dress anymore, I don’t have a dress. I’m back at square one. And I don’t even know where to go and look for a dress, since my mother made me have a nervous breakdown at nearly every bridal designer’s showroom in town!
    Don’t panic, you will find another dress. I take the napkin wrapped around my cup of coffee and tear it into halves. After all, finding a wedding dress is easy! People find wedding dresses every day of the week—how hard could it possibly be? Why, I’ll probably find one in the next store that I go to!
    Okay, I didn’t even convince myself on that one.
    I have no wedding dress! I’ve got the guy, but no dress. What am I going to wear down the aisle? Okay, be cool, be confident. You’ll find another dress. Maybe I should just take a tiny peek at a bridal magazine to start getting some ideas. Get those creative juices flowing again.
    The New York Law Journal, the National Law Journal, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal…. Nary a Vogue or a Glamour or a Marie Claire to be found. Which is really odd, seeing as Stephanie is so put together and well-dressed. Just because it’s a lawyer’s office, that doesn’t mean that they can’t have any fun magazines? Don’t they know that there are people here who need wedding dresses? Would it kill them to have a Bride magazine?
    Okay, maybe that’s pushing it, since I’m at a divorce attorney’s office. Must focus my energy on more important things. Like mini cupcakes.
    “Brooke, is that you?” a voice from behind me asks just as I’ve popped an entire mini-cupcake into my mouth. I turn around to see Monique deVouvray standing right behind me.
    “Oh,” I say, trying to swallow quickly, “Monique.”
    “What are you doing here?” she asks in her thick French accent. She’s dressed impeccably, just as she was on the other occasions when I’d seen her, but I notice that she’s got a large scarf wrapped around her head like she’s Bridget Bardot and is wearing enormous Chanel sunglasses that hide half of her face.
    “I’m just here with a friend,” I say, stirring my coffee. I don’t want to tell her that it’s Vanessa, since the last thing Vanessa needs right now is for her mother’s acquaintances to know about her divorce and how quickly it’s moving forward.
    “Well, I’m just here to talk to a lawyer so that I know my rights,” she says in a hushed voice. “Just talk. I’m not filing for divorce or anything.” She looks around the room furtively before looking back to me.
    “I won’t tell a soul,” I say as Monique pours herself a coffee—black. I marvel at the fact that she doesn’t even give a second look at the mini cupcakes. Or the hot guy with the hazel-green eyes. French women have so much self-control.
    “My prenuptial agreement is very complicated,” she says. “As a lawyer, I’m sure you understand that.”
    “Of course,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
    “Robin Kaplan is supposed to be very discreet,” she says, evoking the name of the most famous divorce attorney to the stars in New York