Something Borrowed. Jule Mcbride

her sciatic nerve?

      Her usually curly hair was blown out straight—her arms ached from an hour’s work with the hair dryer—and because she was wearing a fur coat, her twin’s pride and joy, she’d already been accosted by an animal rights activist who’d followed her from West Fourth to Thirty-Fourth Street station, educating Marley about the trials and tribulations of being a mink.

      Marley had finally lost her temper and explained that she was only human, which meant she didn’t feel competent to speak for minks. However, she could definitely say it wasn’t easy being her. She’d proceeded to tell the activist about the wedding curse that had ruined her marriage, offering details about her divorce before bringing the man up to the present, explaining that she was impersonating someone else right now, so this wasn’t even her coat. Besides, the coat wasn’t mink, she’d informed him, but beaver, and it had been bought by her sister secondhand, so her sister wasn’t responsible for an animal death, at least not directly.

      The coat was hanging over an itchy red-wool suit that reminded Marley of why she favored clothes made of cotton. As it turned out, that was something she and the man had in common, and on that basis, he’d asked for a date, but Marley had declined, quickly reminding him of the wedding curse. As much as she missed sex and romance, the curse was a reality—her divorce proved that—so she really did feel compelled to swear off men forever.

      Now she just hoped she could help Edie. She definitely looked like her now; before she’d left the West Village where her parents and Edie lived, she’d passed the deli, the drop-off laundry and a restaurant where the Bennings often ordered takeout, and no one had seen through the disguise.

      Still, she was second-guessing her plan to show up at NBC and fool Edie’s latest boyfriend into thinking she was Edie. “But you don’t have a choice,” Marley reminded herself, licking at lips that felt like cotton. She had to stop her sister from making a devastating mistake, such as the one Marley had made when she’d married Chris Lang. Edie was too much of a romantic to see through Cash Champagne’s surface charm….

      And Cash definitely had some ulterior motive in dating Edie. Not only did Cash Champagne sound like a stage name worthy of a Broadway show, but he didn’t seem to have reliable employment, either, just like Marley’s ex-husband, Chris. And his looks were too good to be true, at least judging from the few times Marley had seen him. He did, however, seem to be from New Orleans—his accent indicated that was the truth—but the way he’d appeared in the Bennings’ lives was fishy, so Marley just wanted the chance to probe deeper into his background than Edie seemed willing to do….

      Marley lowered her head as she crossed Fifth Avenue, holding her stiff hair-sprayed locks in place with both hands and keeping her eyes glued to the pavement, hoping one of Edie’s high heels wouldn’t catch in a subway grate and send her sprawling. No, poor Edie just didn’t get it. She was still such a romantic fool.

      While Marley didn’t want to be condescending, she couldn’t help but feel her twin—who was older by two minutes—was really years younger. Despite the wedding curse that Granny Ginny had said ensured their failure in romance, everything remained hearts, flowers and happy endings for Edie. She still fantasized about the perfect wedding day—the sun shining, spring flowers blooming, a tall, dark, handsome man who looked like Cash Champagne waiting at the end of the aisle….

      Oh, Marley and Edie might not hang around together as much as they used to, and they’d always had different friends, but Marley would hate to see her twin get hurt. She felt a pang in her chest as she visualized Big Apple Brides’ display windows and thought of the loving care that Edie, not to mention all the Bennings, had put into the business, despite the fact that none of the sisters were destined for success in love.

      Only Marley had made the mistake of marrying. Refusing to give credence to old family stories, she’d seen her love for Chris Lang as proof the curse didn’t exist. Only a year ago, while signing divorce papers, had she smelled the coffee. Obviously, Granny hadn’t been spinning wild yarns as the sisters had sometimes hoped, and until this curse was resolved, Marley, Edie and Bridget were destined to be alone. For that reason, Marley was glad her elderly relative was coming in from Florida this week. Now that she took the curse more seriously, maybe Marley and her sisters could ask Granny Ginny how to rectify matters.

      As things stood, Cash Champagne was just one more heartbreaker who’d wind up harming Edie. Not that Marley cared about her own love life any longer. What was the use? In fact, she wanted as little to do with weddings as possible, which was why she wished she had any other option besides working as Julia Darden’s fitness trainer.

      Fortunately, Marley had almost rebuilt the clientele she’d had when Chris depleted their joint bank account, and she’d had to close her spa center, Fancy Abs. As difficult as it was to listen to Julia’s deluded chatter about gowns and crystal, Marley always refrained from reciting divorce statistics since she desperately needed the job. She was working in clients’ apartments right now, and unless she could open a commercial space soon, people would switch to the new fitness franchises springing up all over Manhattan.

      Bitter air hit the back of her throat, making her even thirstier as she wrapped Edie’s coat more tightly around herself and headed past the Sea Grill restaurant. Silently, she damned her throat for feeling so achy. She really didn’t have time to stop for something to drink, and if the truth be told, a martini was starting to sound better than a bottle of Evian. She heaved a sigh. Why did Edie always wear short skirts? And such sheer hose? Her sister was so impractical!

      A month ago, when six feet of pure temptation had waltzed into Edie’s life calling himself Cash Champagne, Edie had taken that as a positive sign. At least at first. Admittedly, he was a dream to look at, his body big and hard with muscles, his dark eyes always squinting as if he were staring into sunlight, his lips curling into absent smiles as if to say he’d seen it all and nothing surprised him. Not exactly the kind of man who dated women slated to be old maids.

      But what was wrong with being single, anyway? Marley suddenly fumed. Throughout history, countless women traversed the years when, as Florence Nightingale had put it, “forever turned into never.” The Bennings were hardly the first. Many “bachelor girls” wound up happier, able to concentrate on their own life goals. Which was what Marley intended to do….

      When she, Edie and Bridget had met Cash last month in an East Village comedy club, Marley had reacted on a purely physical level, of course. In fact, when he’d sent a round of drinks, then headed toward their group, she’d been sure her smile had lured him. Just as she was kicking herself for flirting accidently, the low, sexy rumble of his voice had helped bring her to her senses, reminding her of her divorce, and everything that she’d gone through in the past year.

      Luckily, the following morning, she’d scheduled a workout with a TV executive who could refer more clients, so she’d been unable to stay at the club and seduce Cash. She did remain long enough to realize he’d never even heard of the feminist stand-up act—a local talent. He’d seemed out of place, too, a lone man surrounded by a female audience enjoying jokes about hair loss, penis size and men’s bizarre relationships with their electronic equipment.

      Because the dingy pub—an old speakeasy sandwiched between buildings on Avenue A—would have been impossible for a tourist to find, Marley couldn’t figure out how Cash had come to be there, especially since he’d had no interest in comedy or the performer, and he knew no one. He wasn’t drinking alcohol, either, only club soda, which seemed odd, since he’d said he’d gotten his start as a bartender, then worked his way up to owning his own clubs, and Marley had never met a teetotaling bartender.

      He’d chuckled at appropriate places, but his eyes had remained veiled, maybe even calculating, and Marley had gotten the impression he was deciding which sister he’d like to know, rather than letting events take their natural course. For some reason, she’d found herself imagining a scenario in which he’d followed them to the club, intending to pick up one of them….

      Surely, she was wrong. And yet she’d wound up concluding that something was up his sleeve. Edie would say that was only because Marley’s breakup with Chris had scarred her emotionally. Now she