The Spinster's Club

Cece: One

Cece glared at the computer screen. The computer screen blinked benignly back. Both the screen and her brain remained depressingly blank. Her heroine was teetering on the brink of falling into bed with her hunky alpha hero and Cece couldn't care less.

When the hell would she ever learn to keep her mouth shut? Her life was certainly not a romance novel, nor anything even close to it. So why had she suddenly gotten diarrhea of the mouth and in front of her friends, of all people? Her friends, who never let a sleeping dog lie and never let a person get away with anything, no matter how much they loved them. Why did her psyche pick that particular time to suddenly reason like a mature adult?

She was doomed to failure. Adventures were so not her, she had no wardrobe ideas beyond the ubiquitous pencil skirt, she hadn't done anything physical since high school gym (and that only under protest), and her last relationship with a male-type person had been in 2001 and had ended when he'd opened the closet door. Her body had been a trifle thin back then, over thin really, with a noticeable lack of boobs but really, did he have to call her 'his type'? After all, she was missing a very important protuberance. Actually, she was missing three very important protrusions for any kind of sex.

How depressing was that?

It was all Amy's fault. Now that CeCe stopped to think about it, Amy was suspiciously like the Amy in Little Women – conniving and sneaky and Jo ought to have had Laurie, dammit! Somehow, while poor, innocent Cece hadn't been noticing, Amy had somehow jury rigged the group, conned them into this ridiculous ... game? Challenge?

Oh shit - she had no one to blame but herself. She could try to put the blame on others until the cows came home but bottom line, she had no one to blame but herself. She really should figure out how to say 'no'.

She grabbed her cellphone and punched a button.

"Shelton County Hospital," a sexy voice cooed.

"Amy," Cece whined.

"Cece?" The voice suddenly became sharp and about two octaves higher. "No calls at work, babe, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"It's not like I do it on a regular basis," Cece snapped. "Call me on your break if you're so busy."

"You panicking, Red?"

"And you're not? Of course I'm panicking. I have no idea where to start."

"I already have my guy lined up." This was said so smugly, Cece wanted to reach through the phone and punch Amy's admittedly cute nose.

"I can see you'll be of no help to me, so I'll let you get back to work. Give me a call when you can talk longer and thank you so much for your help."

"Now Red ..." Whatever Amy was about to say was cut off as Cece disconnected the call.

What to do, what to do.

She wandered into the kitchen and got a bottle of water from the fridge. She wandered into the bedroom, opened the closet door and stared at her clothes without really seeing them. She wandered into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stopped and taking in a deep breath, studied her reflection.

Her breasts were still almost non-existent, especially if one compared them to Cass's, which she tried never to do. Breast implants briefly crossed her mind, but she wasn't that desperate and it did seem like killing a fly with a bazooka. Her gaze lowered to her hips - not much she could do there – and then rose to her hair.

She had always worn her hair long. She was not a person who cared to spend hours fooling with styling and this way all she had to do was give it a couple of twirls and clip it on top of her head. No bed head. No problems. And, the great thing about hair is that although cut, it grew back. Unless, of course, it fell out.

But she wouldn't think of that.

She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. Slowly she grabbed a hank of hair, and closing her eyes, clipped it off close to her scalp. Methodically, she moved over her head, opening her eyes, but trying to keep her gaze lowered. When she finished, she stared at the long locks of copper hair in the sink. Her gaze slid over to the trash can where more resided. Finally, she managed to look up and study herself in the mirror.

Her bottom lip trembled and she burst into tears.