Frankie knew that some would be envious of her position as a vice president of a successful publisher. Her life was interesting and filled with a lot of professional events, but she still felt that a piece was missing. A lover, a partner, a friend. Sure, she could have three different men, but what she really wanted was a man who was all three. Yeah. Good luck with that.

She took one more glance at her reflection in the glass of the hotel artwork. Hair? Jet black, slicked, and pulled into a long ponytail. Dress? Figure-flattering little black dress that showed off her well-toned calves. Lipstick? Bright. She then had the horrifying thought she might have lipstick on her teeth. Next came the angst of her eyeliner running. But before she had the chance to pull out a small mirror, the squeals of Nina Hunter were heard across the lobby.

“Frankie! Oh baby.” Nina Hunter pushed through the crowd and gave her friend a huge, crushing hug.

Nina was five feet eight inches tall, towering over Frankie’s five-foot-four-inch frame. In high school, Nina had been in every school play, community-theater production, and summer-camp program. That’s where she and Frankie had bonded. Frankie was the singer; Nina was the actress. Nina’s love was acting, and she was particularly good at it, so much so that she had landed a part on a television sitcom after attending the University of Southern California. She wasn’t the star of the show but had enough screen time to make her a fan favorite. Her long brown curly hair, big brown eyes, and long legs were hard to miss.

“Nee-Na,” Frankie howled back, making sure her makeup didn’t smudge on Nina’s silk dress. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” Frankie was surprised but also tickled pink.

“I have an audition in the city in a few days, so I thought I’d return to our old haunts.”

“You mean Shut Up and Eat?” Frankie joked, referring to the local diner where they would hang out after football games or other school events. Only the coolest kids would go there.

“Is it still there?” Nina asked.

“It is. Butch Anderson organizes breakfasts there several times a year,” Frankie replied. “I’ve been to a few; but to be honest, I don’t feel I have anything in common with them anymore.”

“I think I know what you mean.” Nina put her arm around her friend. “It’s married couples talking about either their latest renovation or bragging about their kids.” Nina made a snoring sound, causing Frankie to burst out laughing.

“Oh my goodness. You are so right.” Frankie nodded in agreement. “I feel like the only thing I talk about is work or some function I’ve attended. They look at me as if I’m some kind of snob. Or weirdo.”