a show she’d seen on the Discovery Channel, about the mating habits of the praying mantis. Chloe hoped Ben would make it out alive. He opened one eye and gave Chloe a desperate look.
Alright, alright. She’d help him. Just like always.
Dropping her bag with a dramatic thud, Chloe said, “You can’t reschedule a birthday. As a . . .” She racked her brain, trying to think of the appropriate astrological sign. “. . . Leo, my lion-like personality is not responding well to that.”
The girl ended the kiss and glared at Chloe. “I thought that when you get old, you’re supposed to ignore your birthday.”
Old? Who was old?
“How old do you think I am?” Chloe demanded.
“I don’t know.” The girl gave her a disdainful once-over. “Forty?”
Ben burst out laughing but tried to cover it with a hearty cough. “Birthday celebration coming up. Give me one minute.”
“It was so nice to meet you,” Chloe told the girl. “I’m sure I’ll see you a lot.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “Ben’s shy, so if he doesn’t call you, be sure to call him. Until he picks up.”
Giving him a triumphant smile, Chloe swept into her apartment. The door clicked shut behind her.
“Forty,” she said out loud. “Holy crap.” She was only twenty-five! Digging into her purse, she yanked out her mirror. Upon inspection, she saw a tiny line between her eyebrows and, okay, maybe she could afford to wear a little makeup or something, but come on. She certainly didn’t look forty.
A white streak of fur flew across the room, accompanied by the tiny jingle of a bell. Whiskers, her cat, pressed up against her legs, rubbing that fluffy fur against her like a warm blanket. Scooping her up, Chloe stared absently out the living room window.
The view of the rusty train tracks of the El was so incredibly bad that Chloe had framed it like a painting with dramatic white curtains. They added some romance to the distressed, country-white bookshelves packed with art books, magazines and plants Most Likely Not to Die If Not Watered. In the center of the room sat a turquoise couch and a coffee table that had seen its fair share of paint jobs.
“I might look forty,” Chloe told Whiskers, “but at least I’ve got a cool place to live.”
The door banged as Ben raced into her apartment. He slammed it shut, bolting it behind him. For good measure, he pulled the chain lock, too. “She’s gone.” He slid down to the floor. “Thank God she’s gone.” Dramatically, he buried his face in his hands.
“She’ll be back,” Chloe promised. “I told her to call until you pick up.”
“That’s a whole new level of cruel.” Ben’s eyes widened. “I’m going to have to change my number.” Hopping to his feet, he loped across the room and scooped Whiskers out of Chloe’s arms, dropping his face in her white fur. “Hey, Whisk. It’s good to see you alive. Somewhat shocking, considering I forgot to feed you.”
By the time Chloe moved to slug him, Ben was already in position to block. His long face was scrunched up in a grin. It seemed that, no matter what the situation, Ben was always smiling. Of course, if Chloe got laid as much as he did, she might smile that much, too.
“What did I miss?” She grabbed a Diet Dr Pepper from the fridge. The silver tab on the top wouldn’t budge. Ben took the can and popped it open. After taking a hearty sip, he handed it over.
“Not much,” he mused. “I hung out with Sally and that whole crew. They miss you terribly and are threatening to file a missing persons report.”
Chloe felt a stab of guilt. Sally was her best friend from undergrad. They hadn’t seen each other in ages. “I’ll call her.”
Whiskers scampered over to the treats cupboard and started to meow. Ben opened the cupboard and fed her a handful of bacon bits. “How was the wedding?” He sniffed the can of cat treats. Giving her a skeptical look, he said, “Do you really think these taste like bacon?”
“No.” Chloe sucked soda from the lip of the can. “And please don’t eat one just to see.” Ben set the container back in the cupboard. “The wedding was fine. Your typical waste of time.”
“A waste of time?” Ben feigned shock. “You mean, you didn’t do the Macarena? Make out with the bartender? Line up for the bouquet toss?”
“Actually . . .” Chloe hummed “Here Comes the Bride” and dug into