“Not bad. I did a shoot in Central Park today and the model fainted. Granted, the girl weighed four pounds, but I think it had more to do with wearing a faux fur hooded jacket in ninety-degree heat. I hear it’s supposed to rain tomorrow and then get cooler by Sunday.”
“Really?” Lake said. She couldn’t stand this. As she listened to Molly’s husky voice droning on about the weather, she kept picturing the green eyes and full mouth and imagining that mouth on the man she once loved and cherished.
“So how about grabbing a drink this weekend? I could even do brunch on Sunday.”
“Um, gosh. I wish I could. But now I’m backed up with a new client. I want to use the weekend to catch up.”
“Any Jack sightings? He hasn’t been lurking around again, has he?”
The abrupt change in topic suggested Molly had been crouched for the past few minutes, waiting for an open moment to spring that question into the conversation.
“Not lately, no. Look, Molly, I’d love to talk, but I should get to bed. I want to—”
“Is everything really okay, Lake? Be honest with me.”
Don’t keep denying, Lake told herself. Molly won’t buy that.
“Okay, honestly you’re right. Remember that roller-coaster factor you mentioned last week? I guess I’m just in one of the dip periods right now. Maybe because the weekend is about to start and I’m still getting used to being on my own.”
“See, that’s what I was talking about. Well, feel better and call me if you just need to vent.”
That did the trick, Lake thought. Because Molly loved being right. As Lake hung up and lay back on the sofa she realized that despite how despicable it was that her friend and Jack were lovers, it would be a relief to cut Molly from her life. Deep down she’d begun to grow tired of Molly’s smugness and pushiness.
She switched off the light on the end table and closed her eyes wearily. How different her couch seemed from Archer’s. There was no hint of wood smoke from the fireplace still in the fabric, no reassuring footsteps overhead.
The phone rang then. It was Archer, as if she had conjured him up.
“How are you?” he asked. “Sorry it took so long to phone you back. I got stuck in an endless, mind-numbing meeting with our lawyers.”
“Well, my doorman is missing, which is scaring the hell out of me, but on the other hand I have some good news.”
She filled him in on what Rory had shared about the transported eggs and her agreement to help. Archer pelted her with questions and then turned back to the doorman issue.
“Do you want to crash on my couch again? Do you want me to crash on yours?”
For a split second she considered both. But she felt uneasy about leaving the apartment this late, and it wouldn’t be smart to have Archer stay there. It was the kind of thing Hotchkiss had warned her about. And she’d already paid too high a price for ignoring his advice once before.
“I appreciate that. But I think I’m okay. I’ve got the door barricaded.”
“Why don’t we touch base tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. I may be out of reach for a while, though. I’m running up to my kids’ camp and the cell service is spotty on the way there.”
She slept restlessly, and kept waking, thinking she’d heard a noise. The next day she was on the road by one, giving herself more than enough time to reach the camp just before five, when Will would be returning. Before pulling onto the highway, she’d driven up and down a few blocks in Manhattan, making sure no one was following her. She couldn’t take the chance of anyone discovering where the camp was. By the time she merged onto the West Side Highway, the back of her summer dress was wet with the sweat of pure anxiety.
She tried to calm herself by focusing on her kids. She craved seeing them, if even for a few minutes. She looked forward to making sure Amy was okay and pampering her a little. She also thought of Rory and felt a surge of hope. Finally she had someone on the inside to help her.
And yet for every comforting thought, there was a troubling one to match. What if Rory got cold feet or came up empty-handed? Then what was she going to do