“You guys are horrible,” said Rochelle. “Don’t listen to them, Jaine. Marybeth is a wonderful person. She’s been helping me redecorate my master bath for the past six months, and she’s been so much fun to work with.”

Everyone groaned.

“Okay, so maybe she’s a little too upbeat sometimes, but basically Marybeth is a warm, caring person.”

“She’s caring, all right,” Colin said. “That’s why she called me on my cell phone in the middle of my cousin’s wedding to tell me to bring her a frappucino.”

“Shh,” Doris whispered. “I think I hear her coming up the path.”

Sure enough, the doorbell rang.

“She always rings the bell,” Pam said, “even though she knows the door’s open. She has to announce her arrival.”

“Come on in,” Rochelle called out.

A subtle tension filled the air. And then Marybeth Olson blew into the room.

She wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I’d seen my share of decorators on House & Garden Television, all of them sleek and sophisticated and bone thin. But Marybeth looked like she’d just stepped off a dairy farm. Fresh scrubbed and clean-cut, with squeaky-clean blonde hair and the most startling green eyes I’d ever seen, as green as a pair of my mom’s fake emerald earrings. The only makeup on her face was some candy red lipstick. And although she wasn’t the least bit fat, she was far from the social string bean I thought she’d be.

When Pam introduced us, she took my hand and greeted me warmly.

“I’m sooo happy you could join us, Judy.”

“Actually, it’s Jaine.”

“Sorry,” she said, flashing me a dazzling smile. “I always get my J names mixed up.”

Then she wedged herself onto the sofa between Doris and Colin, subtly forcing Colin to move down to the end of the sofa.

“Have a margarita, Marybeth,” Rochelle said. “And some guacamole.” She popped up and passed the guacamole to Marybeth.

Marybeth laid another kilowatt smile on Rochelle. “It looks delicious.”

“I hope it’s not too spicy.”

“It’s not too spicy!” everyone shouted.

“Okay, ladies and gentleman,” Doris said, clinking her cocktail umbrella against her margarita glass. “The weekly meeting of the honorable PMS Club is now called to order. Any news?”

Without missing a beat, Marybeth piped up, “I’ve got yummy news!”

Pam poked me in the ribs.

“The other day, just for a lark, I decided to buy a lottery ticket, and you’ll never guess what happened!”

“You won?” Pam blinked, incredulous.

“Yes!” Marybeth rummaged around her purse and fished out a lottery ticket. “Isn’t it wonderful?” She kissed the ticket with her candy red lips. “It’s not very much, though. Just fifty thou.”

Just fifty thou?

“The rich get richer,” Pam muttered under her breath.