Her mother had settled for less, and it had left her dissatisfied and bitter. After her father had left them when Chelsea was twelve, her mother had turned that bitterness on Chelsea.

She’d had a long childhood of lectures about how horrible her father was, how men couldn’t be counted on, and how it was best to be independent. The ironic thing was, her mother hadn’t been there for her any more than her father had.

Chelsea had relied on herself, on her own decision making, refusing to let her mother’s bitterness shape her future. She’d vowed to never do that to her own children. Chelsea intended to only do the marriage thing one time, which was why she was so choosy about men.

No losers for her. She’d lived with one for twelve years, and had lived with the repercussions of one for many years after that.

She had no intentions of turning into her mother. She had watched and learned those lessons well.

She’d know when the right one came along.

Megan sat down next to her. “Hey. This is a party, you know. You’re supposed to be smiling, laughing, eating, and drinking, not staring off into a corner.”

Chelsea shook off thoughts of the past and raised her glass. “I am drinking. And I’m stuffed from the crab and lobster Martha fed us.”

“It was fantastic, wasn’t it? But you’re looking awfully quiet and reflective over here.” Megan put one of her infamous cupcakes in front of her. This one was chocolate, with pink and white frosting piled ridiculously high. “How about something sweet to perk you up?”

Chelsea slid a suspicious look toward Megan. “Your ‘something sweet’ will make my butt huge.”

Megan laughed. “Oh, come on. We’ll dance off all those calories tonight.”

She stared down at the cupcake, then shrugged, peeled down the wrapper, and took a bite. Why not? They were celebrating, after all. The sweetness exploded in her mouth. “Oh, God, Megan. This is so good.”

Megan wriggled in her chair. “I know, right? I’ve already had two. The first I had to taste to make sure they were okay.”

Chelsea swallowed, then washed the cupcake down with champagne. “Honey, everything you bake is more than okay. It’s delicious.”

“See? Now you’re smiling. There’s nothing in this world a good cupcake can’t fix.”

Chelsea laughed. “I don’t know about that, but it definitely doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, now that you’re feeling better, tell me what you were thinking about.”

“My childhood. My parents. Men. Families. Weddings. My future.”

Megan leaned back and picked up her glass. “Oh, so light topics.”

“Yes.”

“Want to get into specifics?”

She didn’t, really, but it was probably time she started talking to someone about where her mind was at.

Someone besides Bash, anyway.

“I’ve made a list.”

“Really. What kind of list?”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“I doubt it. Tell me.”

“It’s a perfect man list.”

Megan frowned. “A what?”

“Here. Let me show you.” She laid her drink down on the table, then went into the other room to grab her purse. She fished her notebook out of the bag, but was stopped along the way by Des, who had come in from outside.

“Halt. You are not drinking.”

Chelsea laughed and hugged her. “I laid my drink down in the living room. I just went to get my notebook.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. You might as well come along.” Emma and Jane were behind her. “All of you might as well come.”

Samantha tailed along, too, as well as Molly. They grabbed Martha, who had snuck into the kitchen in an attempt to do dishes. They all settled into the living room with their drinks.

“So what’s in the notebook?” Emma asked. “Secret love notes from some guy you’re dating that you haven’t told us all about yet?”

“Uh, no. It’s a list I was just about to tell Megan about.”

“Ooh, a list,” Jane said. “I love lists.”

“Of course you do. That’s because you’re a math teacher like me. And you’re orderly.”

Jane looked at all of them. “Chelsea thinks I’m orderly.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “The list, Chelsea.”

“It’s my perfect man list.”

“The one you mentioned a couple of weeks ago?” Emma asked.

“Yes.”

“Does it have names on it?” Samantha asked. “And if it does, will you share them with me?”

Chelsea laughed. “No. It’s not a list of names. It’s a list of qualities I want in my perfect man.”

“Oh. Sounds fun. Let’s see it,” Megan said, taking the notebook from her. She read the list out loud.

“It’s an interesting list,” Martha said.

“I don’t see you with a suit and tie kind of guy,” Emma said, regarding her thoughtfully. “I mean, yes, you dress well, and I highly covet the sexy shoes you wear, especially since I’m a veterinarian, so I’m stuck in tennis shoes all day. But I don’t know, Chelse.”

“Never married? That kind of limits you as well. Lots of great guys have been divorced, honey,” Jane said.

Chelsea knew Jane was thinking about Luke, her husband’s brother, who’d been married before and was now married to Emma.