The next thing I knew, a couple of security guards were prying Pam off me and hauling her away. And then the hunkalicious Andrew Ferguson stepped out of the crowd and kneeled down next to me.

“I’ve heard of bad room service,” he said, “but that was ridiculous. Are you okay?”

Was I okay?? Of course I wasn’t okay!! I was lying there in front of half the staff of Union National Bank, practically naked in my waist-nipper pantyhose and Reeboks!

“Yes,” I managed to say. “I’m okay.”

He glanced down at my waist nippers and whispered: “You know, ever since I saw those pantyhose on my desk, I’ve been wondering what you looked like in them. And out of them.”

Then he smiled a smile that made me blush right down to my Reeboks.

What do you know? Looks like my Fairy Godmother was working that night, after all.

Epilogue

Needless to say, the cops released Rochelle and arrested Pam. Her lawyer’s going to have one hell of a time explaining the “building inspector” costume the cops found in her apartment.

After all that happened, it was no surprise that the PMS Club broke up. Not long ago, we met for lunch and caught up on the events in each other’s lives.

You’ll be happy to learn that Doris is engaged to a widower she met at a “How to Survive the Loss of a Love” support group.

Ashley is no longer pretending to be rich and seems a lot more at peace with herself. She’s renting out her house to movie production companies and got herself a job as a personal shopper at Saks. Last I heard, she was dating a guy in ladies’ lingerie. (No, not a cross-dresser, but a buyer from the New York office.)

Colin landed a terrific gig as a personal assistant with one of L.A.’s hottest new caterers. And you’ll never guess who that caterer is. Rochelle! Yep, she divorced her ratfink of a husband and went into business doing what she does best—cooking.

After catering some movie shoots at Ashley’s house, the word spread, and now Rochelle is whipping up empanadas and margaritas for Hollywood’s “A List.” (One thing she refuses to make, though, is guacamole. If a customer insists on it, she buys it at the market.)

Marty Meyers is living with his latest mistress—not poor Cissy, but the 19-year-old bimbette he hired to replace Nurse Medusa. Pam was lying about seeing him on the day of the murder. At the time Pam claimed to have seen him outside Ralph’s supermarket, he was actually holed up in his office, drilling his bimbette.