I huffed. Please. I’d been active on the social scene ever since I’d moved to Bigtime some fifteen years ago, and I knew everybody invited to the wedding. There wasn’t a man among them that I’d date, let alone sleep with. I twisted the ring on my finger. The silver solidium band heated up on my hot hand, and the diamond glowed like a tiny moon. Still, I would like to find somebody. It’d be nice to be part of a couple again. To laugh and talk and have dinner with someone who wasn’t a relative or an employee or a fellow superhero. To find somebody who looked at me the way that Sam looked at Carmen.

Plus, I liked sex. A lot. It sucked to go without. My hand stilled. Maybe that’s what I should do. Get drunk at the reception, have a one-night stand with some anonymous guy to take the edge off, and then start looking for someone suitable. Someone more long-term. The only problem with my plan was that it would take an ocean of champagne to get me drunk, given my fast-burning metabolism. Well, it was a good thing Sam was richer than almost everyone else on the planet put together. He could afford a H o t M a m a

9

couple hundred thousand dollars’ worth of bubbly if it meant me getting lucky.

The music quickened and swelled, and the conversations faded away. The air hummed with energy and anticipation.

“Time to go.” Carmen smoothed down her billowing skirt. Her hand trembled just a bit.

I picked up her long train, careful not to singe the fabric with my fingers. I’d spent too much time sewing the damn thing to ruin it now. Carmen turned and grabbed my arm.

“Do you think this is the right thing to do? Do you think we should go through with it? Do you think we’re ready? You know how badly my last wedding turned out.”

Panic filled her blue eyes.

Badly was the understatement of the century. Right before the wedding, Carmen had found her fiancé boinking her best friend and discovered that the two were her town’s resident superhero and ubervillain. That, of course, had set Carmen off on her little mission to expose the identity of every superhero and ubervillain who crossed her path. Which, of course, is how Carmen had met Sam and the rest of us. Karma, she called it. Destiny, kismet, fate. I just thought of it as bad luck on our part.

But I bit back the sarcastic retort I’d been ready to let loose. The nosy reporter had grown on me, despite my best efforts. And she had saved my life and everyone else’s. I owed her for that. Plus, it was my solemn duty as a bridesmaid to support the bride—even if Carmen occasionally made me want to put my fist through a wall.

“Do you love Sam?”

Carmen nodded. Some of the tension left her body.