“Whatever you say, hon.” Her smile was as sharp as a Ginsu knife.

We all took our plates back into the living room and sat around in chummy clumps.

The dinner dynamics were interesting, to put it mildly.

Heidi and I nabbed seats on one of several overstuffed sofas. Brad sat across from us on a matching sofa, ignoring his food and glaring at SueEllen. Amber, sitting between Brad and Eduardo, was ignoring Brad and flirting with Eduardo. But Eduardo was oblivious to her charms, barely touching his food, and shooting imploring looks at SueEllen. SueEllen was perched on the arm of Hal’s chair, also ignoring her food, and rubbing her husband’s neck seductively. Perhaps she planned on being a faithful wife for a bit, to while away the time between lovers.

I’m happy to report that Heidi seemed to be having a good time. SueEllen wouldn’t dare be her ugly self in front of all these people, some of whom were, no doubt, very influential in town. So, for the duration of the evening, Heidi was safe.

At least, that’s what I thought. Until one of the guests, during a lull in the conversation, turned to me, and said, “And what do you do, Ms. Austen?”

Before I could reply, SueEllen piped up: “Jaine’s my secretary. She’s taking dictation for my book. Isn’t that right, Jaine, dear?”

Clearly, she didn’t want anyone to know she was using a ghostwriter.

I smiled and muttered a noncommital Hmmm.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Heidi whispered. “God forbid she should give anybody credit for anything.”

“It’s okay,” I lied. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well, I do.” Then she cleared her throat, and said, “Actually, Jaine’s a writer. She’s ghostwriting SueEllen’s book.”

A hush fell over the room.

Everyone looked at SueEllen to see what she would say.

“Well, yes,” she said, smiling a brittle smile, “Jaine is helping me just a tad with the writing. And doing a marvelous job, I might add. In fact, when I’m through with this book, I think I may write another. A diet book for fat teenagers.”

Accent on the fat.

Oh, Christ. The gloves were off. To hell with the dinner guests. SueEllen was out for blood.

I looked over at Heidi, who was blushing furiously. No one (except possibly Brad, who was practically unconscious with booze) could have missed SueEllen’s dig.

And it was at that unfortunate moment that Conchi chose to wheel in Heidi’s birthday cake, a towering confection with sixteen candles and Happy Birthday, Heidi, emblazoned across the pink icing.

“And look what’s here,” SueEllen said. “Heidi’s birthday cake! But what will the rest of us be eating, Conchi?”

“That’s enough, SueEllen,” Hal said, his jaw clenched.

“Oh, Heidi doesn’t mind a little kidding, do you, sweetie?”

Heidi just sat there, staring down at her hands.

Then somebody started singing Happy Birthday. Everyone joined in, eager to fill the painful silence.

When we were all through singing, someone shouted, “Make a wish.”

“Yes,” everybody chorused. “Make a wish.”