Page 122 of Not That Into You

“I usually do.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab a box of chocolates and select a dark truffle. I bite into it, letting the silky richness of the chocolate melt over my tongue. “Oh my goodness. Try one of these.” I hold the box out to Claire. “They’re delicious.”

She plucks a chocolate out of the box and eats it in one bite. “Oh, wow.”

“Right?” I stare at the box, purse my lips, and then shrug. What the hell. I deserve another one.

After biting into another chocolate, I lean back in my lounger and enjoy the deliciousness. “Why don’t any of my clients send me baskets like this?”

“Do you make them millions of dollars?”

“No.”

“There’s your answer.”

“Wait.” I sit up. “Elliot made a client millions of dollars, and all they sent was this gift basket? Was it at least delivered by singing telegram?”

Claire snorts. “It’s better than a T-shirt.” She shrugs. “I don’t know which client sent the basket or how much Elliot made them. Maybe it was only a hundred grand.”

“Peanuts.”

“Exactly. Hence the inferior basket.”

“Inferior indeed.”

We smile at each other over our champagne glasses before each taking a sip.

Claire’s face turns serious. “I’m sure your mom will be happy to have you home.”

I sigh before draining my glass. “The thing is, if I don’t show up, I’ll never hear the end of it. I’ll be the ungrateful daughter who was too busy to care for her mother.” I shake my head. “She’s kind of impossible.”

“Aren’t all mothers?”

“Pretty much.” I chuckle. “I actually think she’s worried I’m going to mope around the house with nothing to do. She probably has visions of me wandering around aimlessly in my bathrobe. I told her I had plenty of work to do while I’m there, but I think it’s hard for her to believe it’s possible for me to ‘work from home.’”

“Well, you do sometimes wear a bathrobe while working from home, so she’s not entirely off.”

I gesture between us. “Pot, kettle.”

She grins as my phone pings with a text message.

Mom: I found your old Snoopy sheets.

My brow furrows.

Monica: Okay

Mom: I’ll put them on your bed when you’re here.

I snort while shaking my head.

“What?”

“Just my mom trolling me.”

“What’d she say?”

“Nothing. She just implied I’m regressing by staying with them.”

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