limited the text to just Audrey.
Claire agreed, having learned by now that part of being friends with Audrey meant playing amateur photographer for Audrey’s Instagram feed.
An hour and a half later, she and Audrey sat side by side on a bench in Central Park, sipping pumpkin spice lattes and devouring the doughnuts Claire had picked up on her way across town.
“I half expected you to get a strawberry doughnut,” Audrey said, licking the chocolate from her own doughnut off her thumb.
“They didn’t have one,” Claire said, biting into her maple bar flecked with little bits of bacon. “Besides, I think I’m backing off the strawberry lemonade revolution just a little.”
“Oh yeah?”
Claire nodded thoughtfully. “It was good to break out of my vanilla rut, but I don’t want to move from one rut to another. I’m just trying to be more . . . open, I guess.” She held up her doughnut. “Case in point, maple bar with bacon instead of the usual glazed.” She picked up her coffee cup. “Pumpkin spice instead of vanilla chai.”
“Not me,” Audrey said, polishing off the rest of her doughnut. “Chocolate is my bae for now and always. It’s one rut I’m happy to be in. Does this new plan mean you’re abandoning your Barbie dream house?”
“No, I still like the idea of some pink.” she admitted. “But just like with food choices, I’m realizing it’s more about variety. Something other than white walls, you know? I found this gorgeous marigold color for the foyer. Navy for the sitting room. Pink accents in the powder room. I’m still deciding on the upstairs, but the painting will be the final touch, so I’ve got another week or so to decide.”
“That fast?” Audrey said in surprise.
Claire shrugged. “Apparently. Scott’s true to his word that he works fast. I can’t believe how quickly everything has come together. Walls have been knocked down, furniture dragged away. New sinks and toilets for all the bathrooms. He’s doing the hardwood floors today, and I can’t even tell you how glad I am to be done with that nasty, ancient carpet. I slept with him.”
Audrey choked on her latte. “Sorry, what?”
Claire ran a finger around the lid of her cup. “I slept with Scott.”
“I knew there was something going on there. Nobody dances the way you two danced at that gala without there being serious chemistry. When? How was it?”
“Last night, and . . . epic.”
Audrey’s eyes went wide. “Epic. I don’t know that I’ve experienced epic.”
Claire gave her a look. “Not with Brayden?”
Audrey wrinkled her nose. “It still skeeves me out to know we were sleeping with him at the same time.”
“Same,” Claire said. “But I’m taking solace in knowing that while Brayden was competent, Scott was . . .”
“Epic?” Audrey supplied. “I bet Brayden hates that from his front-row seat in hell.”
“I just realized,” Claire said, glancing around. “This is all very reminiscent of our first meeting.”
“It is!” Audrey said. “It was a few blocks north of here, and of course there’s no Naomi, but yeah. We’re basically at the site of our pact.”
“You know, when I agreed to Naomi’s plan to help each other avoid men, I never thought that a little more than a year later, I’d be sitting in almost the same spot talking about . . . a man.”
“We didn’t agree to help each other avoid men,” Audrey argued. “We agreed to help each other avoid the bad ones. And Scott’s not one of the bad ones.”
Claire smiled at the decisive note in Audrey’s voice. “Says the woman who’s met him once.”
“I know he’s one of the good ones because you think he is.”
“Well, I also married Brayden.”
“Still,” Audrey insisted. “You wouldn’t have, um, gotten back on the horse with anyone who was even remotely like Brayden.”
“I love your optimism,” Claire said with a smile. “Maybe you can be the one to break the news to Naomi. Help spin it so that she doesn’t freak out?”
“Why would she freak out? She was all on board with you getting laid, as she phrased it.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t want me to with Scott,” Claire said, feeling a little guilty that she’d done the exact opposite of the plan she and Naomi had devised to keep Scott at arm’s length.
“Why?”
“She doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
“And she thinks Scott will hurt you?”
“She knows Scott is leaving.”
“Right,” Audrey said. “Wanderlust.”
“Something like that,” Claire muttered, taking a sip of her coffee.
“But at least you know he’s leaving. You’re prepared for it.”
Claire