Culpeper's steak house smelled overwhelmingly like meat, served punch bowl—sized goblets of red wine, and had caricatures of celebrities who'd visited all over the walls. Most of them were famous golfers, singers like Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony, and business moguls as who were all featured smoking phallic-looking cigars.
Spencer's father had finally turned up from his all-day outing, and the family filed stiffly into a banquette. Her parents had had an under-their-breath argument in the parking lot about where he had been all day, and now they weren't speaking except to tersely agree on the wine. Spencer and Melissa were trying their best to ignore them, canvassing the room for Colin and Ramona.
Suddenly, Spencer grabbed Melissa's arm. "There they are!"
Melissa turned to look just as Colin's tall and muscular frame passed through the front door. He had changed into a black button-down, black pinstriped trousers, and a pair of loafers Spencer was pretty sure were Prada. Ramona was with him, still wearing the sexy black sheath dress from earlier. Colin said a few words to the maitre d', but then Ramona interrupted and spoke over him. Colin frowned at her, looking annoyed, and Ramona rolled her eyes at him.
"Hmmm," Melissa murmured. "Seems there's trouble in paradise!"
"Maybe," Spencer whispered, unconvinced as the maitre d' led the couple through the dining room and seated them at a table by the window that blessedly wasn't anywhere near Spencer's family.
Melissa sipped from the glass of red wine the waiter had just poured. "Get up and strut past him right now. You look super hot."
"Now?" Spencer felt panicked. It was so public here. Her parents, who were pointedly staring off in two different so they wouldn't have to speak to one another, would see.
"Hold your head high. Say hello to Colin, thrust out your boobs, but keep walking. Don't stop and chat. Leave him wanting more," Melissa instructed.
Hold out your boobs? Melissa was the queen of prudes. When a boy had touched her butt during slow dance in ninth grade, rumor had it she'd slapped him and reported him to the principal. "Where do you get this stuff?" Spencer asked.
"Cosmo," Melissa asked.
"Seriously? I thought you only read Vogue and W."
Melissa shrugged. "It's actually pretty helpful when it comes to guy stuff." She poked Spencer's thigh. "Now go!"
Okaaay. Spencer climbed out of the banquette. She could feel Melissa's eyes on her back, encouraging her on. It actually felt kind of familiar, the way Melissa was helping her. If it wasn't for the fact that they were scheming to break up a couple instead of planning elaborate tea parties and cooking up ways to convince their parents to let them wear their princess crowns to school, Spencer realized it almost felt like old times. When they'd been real sisters.
Spencer advanced toward Colin and Ramona, trying to adjust to her shoes. "I think we should take a sailing lesson tomorrow," Colin was urging.
Ramona pouted, her shiny lips folding into a grimace. "I just want to tan and relax."
"You always want to tan and relax. If you're not into it, I'm just going to go without you."
"I'm just going to go without you," Ramona mimicked, twisting her mouth unattractively.
Spencer took a deep breath and began walking a little faster. When she was a few feet from Colin's table, he looked up and noticed her. She feigned obliviousness, swinging her hips, shaking her butt, and pushing her boobs out as far as they would go. She could feel her hair lift off her neck and float behind her. She felt fantastic.
"Hey, Spencer," Colin called out.
She slowed down and faked surprise. "Oh, hey! Nice to see you!"
He breathed in as if to say something else, probably expecting Spencer to stop and chat. But she didn't. She kept walking, holding her head high. After she passed, she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder at him. He was still watching her.
And then her leg hit something hard, and she heard a loud oof. She whipped around just in time to see a waitress clamoring to rescue a tray full of steaming plates from tumbling to the floor. But it was too late—the plates slid off the tray one by one, smashing to the ground. At the exact same moment, Spencer's high heels turned, and she felt her legs buckle beneath her. Before she could even catch herself she was on the carpet, her legs tangled under her, her dress riding up her butt, and her elbow landing in something squishy that had just spilled. By the smell of it, it was screamed spinach.
A hush went over the crowd. Everyone turned to stare. The waitress was next to her on the floor, quickly cleaning up a bunch of plates of steel that had fallen off the tray. "Great. You probably just got me fired!" she hissed.
Spencer scrambled to her feet quickly and shot to the bathroom. But as she pushed open the women's room door, she heard a faint chuckle and peeked back into the dining area. Colin and Ramona were staring at her with amusement, their hands now entwined on top of the table. Perfect. Spencer's fall had probably been the ultimate icebreaker.
Cosmo scheme one: a definite bomb.