You are not the first, and you are definitely not the last . . . And probably you are not the best. It's never a good idea to take messages scrawled in bar bathrooms personally. Eva Lockart knows this, really she does. Still, such things tend to take on a weird sort of significance when one is in the throes of a panic attack prompted by irrational jealousy of one's boyfriend's ex-wife. Something that's been happening lately-a lot . . . Not that Eva has anything to worry about, really. "X" (she has a name, but why dwell on details) is long gone, and Will loves Eva now-loves her enough, in fact, to want to move in and get married. So, she's got a guy she's crazy about, a thriving business, and "fun" wedding plans to make, including finding an affordable reception site that doesn't have dead animal heads hanging from the walls, a non-poofy dress that adequately corrals her cleavage; and a cake that isn't orange inside.
