Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
SOPHIE
The next evening I’m walking out of the yoga studio with Ava and Lauren when my phone buzzes.
Hi. I have a slight change of plan. I have to leave for Washington DC on Wednesday afternoon, so I’m moving dinner to tomorrow night. Will it still be okay to eat outside? - Liam
I know the answer to this. I ran the forecast for New York from Tuesday afternoon to Thursday and it’s looking glorious.
You’ll be fine. The weather is looking great all week in New York. Have a good time. – Sophie :)
I add the smiley to let him know I’m not bothered at all about his dinner date.
Then I turn off my phone and put it into my gym bag because I don’t want to think about his date with another woman.
Especially when it’s a rare Monday night where all three of us have managed to make it to yoga.
It used to be a weekly thing, but since Ava got pregnant with Charlie it’s become more like monthly.
I miss getting together with my friends and I’m not going to spoil it by brooding about a man I shouldn’t want.
“Okay,” Lauren says, sitting down dramatically at our usual table in the café. “Has anybody else noticed how the rest of the class seem to be getting fitter while we just fall over every time we try to do a downward facing dog?”
“Speak for yourself,” Ava says, smiling. “Anyway I have an excuse. I just had a baby.”
“Charlie is almost four months old,” Lauren points out. “At some point between now and eighteen years old that excuse is gonna sound stale.”
“Never.” Ava grins. “Oh hey, did I tell you he laughed this weekend?”
“He did?” I lean forward, excited. “Oh my God, did you video it?”
Ava excitedly gets her phone out and scrolls until she reaches the right video. “You’re seriously going to die when you watch this.” She turns the phone around so Lauren and I can see the screen as music blares out of the speaker.
“Will Smith?” Lauren says, lifting a brow.
“Your son and I are going to have a talk about life choices…” Her voice fades away as Liam comes on the screen, rapping “Getting Jiggy Wit It” word-for-word as he dances around Ava’s kitchen.
Charlie lets out a watery gurgle, and then does it again, and Ava zooms the camera in on him as he watches his uncle with pure delight on his face.
“Oh Jesus, my ovaries just came out of deep freeze,” Lauren mutters. “Can you stop with the hot guys and baby?”
“I can’t help it.” Ava shrugs. “It’s the only way we can get Charlie to laugh. I made Liam come over again this morning and it still works.”
“I guess there won’t be any more laughing for the rest of the week with Liam gone,” I say before I think it through.
Ava looks at me, her brow raised. “What?”
“How do you know if Liam will be here or not?” Lauren asks.
I shake my head. “Because I’m doing his forecasts, remember? And I needed his itinerary. I know he’s off to New York tomorrow.”
“You two looked pretty cozy at the gala on Saturday,” Lauren says, grimacing at the green smoothie the waiter just delivered. She’s on some kind of detox which must be a living hell for her since she owns a bakery.
“We were just talking about the auction,” I say. “It’s part of my role to be nice to the donors.”
Ava tips her head to the side but says nothing. This is probably awkward for her since Liam is her brother-in-law.
“We’re friends,” I tell them.
And of course they both burst out laughing.
“It’s true.” My protest barely registers through the volume of their giggles. “We agreed to stop annoying each other and be nice.” I look pointedly at Ava. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“Well yes, I guess.” She smiles at me. “Although I was hoping Lauren was right and it was just unfulfilled sexual tension between you both.”
“Oh I don’t think Liam’s anywhere near unfulfilled,” I say. “He’s got a date tomorrow night.”
“He does?” Lauren asks. She looks at Ava. “Who’s it with, do you know?”
“I try to know as little about my brother-in-law’s love life as possible,” Ava says dryly. “Especially now that I know his one night rule.”
“Do you know?” Lauren asks me.
I shrug. “No idea. Just said he was taking her out for dinner and wanted to know whether he should book a table outside or inside.”
“Do they have outside tables in New York?” Lauren wrinkles her nose. “Won’t all those traffic fumes get in the food?”
“Myles and Liam know all the best places to eat,” Ava says. “He’ll probably take her to their favorite Italian place, it has this gorgeous courtyard that’s to die for.” Her eyes light up. “What I wouldn’t give for some of their mushroom ravioli right now.”
“I guess those Salingers know how to woo their women,” Lauren says.
“They do.” Ava sighs. “Myles is such a romantic.”
Lauren and I exchange glances.
“Okay, so this part of the conversation is officially over,” Lauren says, because neither of us want to imagine that. “How’s work going?” she asks me. “Have you killed Michael yet?”
“Not yet.” I grin. “I think he wants to kill me though. He’s still annoyed at me for changing my auction lot.” I’m riding on a high from that. And he’s keeping his head down which is good.
We start talking about our plans for the weekend. I tell them about Madison’s birthday on Friday – we’re all heading out to a bar to celebrate. But I don’t tell them about my plan to meet with Liam and confess the truth.
What I need to say is between him and me. I’ve made enough mistakes. I don’t want them to know before he does.
“Will Michael be at Madison’s birthday?” Lauren asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Unfortunately.” I lift a brow. “She couldn’t not invite him when the rest of the staff will be there.” And maybe it’ll be a chance for things between us to calm down. As much as I’ve enjoyed getting one over on him, we’re both adults and need to work together.
“Ugh. Is there any way we can help?” Lauren asks. “Maybe we could put rat poison in his champagne.”
“Or itching powder in his shorts,” Ava says, wiggling her brows.
I smile because they’re my people and they’d actually do those things for me if I asked. Which I won’t because I’m in my thirties and not a kid.
“It’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can deal with him for one night,” I tell them. “He’s been strangely hands off since the charity ball.”
“That’s because he knows you’re worth something now,” Lauren points out. “Although that’s kind of a crock of shit because you were always worth so much more than him.”
As I said, these women are my people. And that’s why I love them.
It’s almost nine-thirty the next evening when my phone rings.
I’m sitting on the sofa in my apartment, wearing a pair of yoga shorts and a flimsy tank, my hair pulled back into a bun which is way more than messy.
The television is on but silent, a Netflix documentary about a bank heist gone wrong flickering on the screen, subtitles telling me that apparently putting your gun down while you adjust your Scream mask isn’t a good idea.
I also have my laptop balanced on my knees because I’m trying to multitask. When I see who’s calling, I blink but answer it anyway, pausing the documentary so I don’t miss a piece of important information.
“Hi Liam.” I keep my voice light like I’m his friend. Because I’m supposed to be. It still feels a bit weird though.
“Sophie.” His voice is low and gruff. The perfect pitch. I know a lot of people don’t notice voices but I do. My mom had a thing about Neil Diamond when I was growing up and I couldn’t understand her addiction to his growly low voice at all.
I do now though.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. Because it’s Tuesday night. Date night. What’s he doing calling me? “Don’t tell me it started to rain on your dinner. I’m not offering you a refund.”
He chuckles and I shift my seating position.
“No. It’s glorious like you said it would be. My dinner date wanted to talk to you, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry what?”
He laughs again. The man is amazingly carefree. Who goes on a date and calls another woman, then encourages the two of them to talk? I’m seriously considering rescinding our friendship card.
“She wants to thank you for the forecast. I wouldn’t have chosen this place if it hadn’t been for your forecast.”
“I thought the sun always shone on you,” I say, because he really is the golden boy. And also because I don’t want to talk to this woman he’s dating. Not when I know what they’ll be doing later.
No, I’m not jealous.
Okay maybe a little.
“You’d be surprised. Hang on…” There’s a shuffling noise and I assume I’m being passed onto the date. I’m going to store this up for the next time I see Lauren and Ava. They’re going to think it’s the funniest thing even if I’m finding it mortifying.
“Hello? Sophie?” A smooth, feminine voice echoes into my ears. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” I say. “How are you?” What’s with this weird conversation? Should I be warning her that Liam is only good for one night? Isn’t that what the sisterhood should do? I’m seriously contemplating it when she starts to talk again.
“I’m much better after spending the evening with my son,” she says. “Thank you for helping him choose the perfect spot.”
My mouth drops.
That’s simultaneously sweet as heck and aggravating. He must have known I’d think the worse. And now instead of feeling jealous, I’m grumpy that I was worried about him having dinner with his mom.
“I’m glad you’re having a good evening,” I say, my voice warm because I really like his mom. “Was the food good?”
“Oh it was wonderful. Have you ever eaten here? It’s called Arno’s. In the West Village.”
“No, I don’t think I have.” I know I haven’t, but I’m trying to be polite here.
“You should come some time,” she says, then her voice goes a little tinny. “You should bring Sophie here,” she says, and I can only assume she’s talking to Liam. “To say thank you for the forecasting.”
I can’t hear Liam’s reply, but I hear his mom’s laugh. And now I really want to know what he said.
But of course I can’t ask.