After dropping off their coats at the cloakroom, the five women followed the maître d’ through the dining room to a table at the back, and as they did, heads turned.

Like Bennett, Angelique preferred trousers over dresses, and tonight’s pair were skintight and suede. The russet hue of the brushed leather repeated in Angelique’s knee-high boots and in her zippered, V-neck ribbed sweater, which wasn’t exactly zippered all that much.

Polly was wearing a black, long-sleeve jersey dress, and even though its neckline was sedate, its hem was not. Cut in an asymmetrical design, the fabric ended where it met Polly’s high-heel boots, but it started mid-thigh, allowing quite a lot of skin to show as she strolled to the table.

Ruby had also chosen to wear black, and the stretchy fabric of her dress hugged her form nicely. The sweetheart neckline dipped low enough that the swells of Ruby’s breasts rose slightly above it, and in place of boots, she was wearing strappy, high-heel pumps.

Bennett was keenly aware they held the attention of the room as they made their way to the round table stationed in front of a massive stone fireplace. They were, after all, beautiful women, but Bennett knew one of those women stood out, and she couldn’t have been any prouder.

If ever there was a party dress, Lisa was wearing it. Ending at mid-thigh, the sleeves were long and the fit loose, and entirely covered in tiny sapphire blue sequins, it twinkled more than the heavens. The only thing holding it closed was a matching loopy belt tied in a bow, and plunge didn’t even come close to describing the neckline. Lisa’s boots were sexy as hell, the patent leather ending above her knees and their spiked heels pushed her three inches taller. She’d pulled her hair into a lazy, low bun, allowing just enough to escape to frame her face in wispy blonde tendrils that shimmered much like her dress. And perched on her nose was her favorite pair of tortoiseshell framed glasses, and Lisa was right. She did rock in glasses.

Upon reaching the table, other waitstaff appeared to pull out the women’s chairs, and once settled, Bennett whispered something to the maître d’. As he walked away, goblets of ice water with slices of lime were placed on the table, and the women were politely handed menus.

“Do you ladies mind if I start us off with some appetizers?” Bennett said, lifting her eyes from the menu. The collective smiles around the table answered Bennett’s question, and a second later, their server was standing at her side. “All right then, why don’t you bring us the sampler from your raw bar, two orders of your pan-roasted clams, and your crab cakes, and you may as well throw in a few of your Kobe Steak Tartare as well.”