Page 32 of The Distiller's Darling

“What are you talking about?” Innocence was her best defense, but it wasn’t really her strong suit.

“We all know you’re sleeping with him, Nay.” Noah raised his eyebrows at her. “Even if it wasn’t obvious, Angelica took him shopping. You know what happens at Target doesn’t stay at Target.”

She raised her hands to ward off their stares. “So? I’m not allowed to have sex all of a sudden?”

Angelica snorted. “You can have all the sex you want, now that you’re not having it with Noah.” She stuck her tongue out, and the twinkle in her eye let Naomi know her friend was teasing. Mostly, anyway. There’d been a few awkward moments early in their friendship, but everything was on an even keel these days.

“I thought we were having an intervention here.” Naomi pointed at Angelica and assumed an imperious expression. “You there. Get married. Et cetera.”

“Nice try, Queen of the Commitment-Phobes. Let’s talk about the fact that you’re still sleeping with that Irishman.” Angelica raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“What are you implying?”

“That you’re daaaaaaating him.” Noah’s singsong accusation made Naomi grit her teeth.

“We’re not dating. We have an arrangement.”

“Max says he barely even comes to the garage apartment.”

“Not true. He’s there right now, as far as I know.” Naomi stuck her nose in the air, adopting her mother’s no-more-talking face. “There you are. End of story.”

Angelica snorted. “Hardly.”

Naomi blew out a frustrated breath. “I definitely RSVP’d to the wrong intervention,” she muttered.

“Come on, Naomi. We’re your friends, and we all have eyes and at least a vague grasp of calendars. You never stay with the same guy this long.” Noah narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t do relationships. You barely stick around to learn people’s last names.”

“So?” She didn’t need to justify anything about her life to a man who owned as many flannel shirts as Noah did. He clearly wasn’t all there.

“Nobody’s judging you,” Angelica said. “Frankly, I’m sometimes a little jealous of the action you get.”

“Hey!” Noah protested.

“Hush.” Angelica grinned. “She’s been living her best life.”

“True that.” Noah shrugged. “But the thing is, Naomi, this seems different.”

Angelica nodded. “I haven’t known you that long, but even I can tell something is different.” She glanced at her boyfriend. “Even Noah here has barely spent much time in your house, but Iain’s there all the time these days.”

“Please tell me you’re not spying on me.” Naomi scowled at them. “You both have much better things to do than sit outside my house watching to see who goes in and out.”

“Your neighbor is on the library board with Sean’s mother. And Mrs. Amory likes me,” Angelica said smugly.

“Mostly because you order so many breakfast pastries from their bakery.” Noah’s tone was dry.

“Well, that, and also I’m delightful.”

Naomi put her hand to her forehead. “Sometimes I forget how small River Hill is.”

“There are pros and cons,” Angelica said sympathetically. “Everyone knows you, but everyone knows you, too.”

Naomi nodded.

“Still glad you live here?” Noah asked.

She made a face. “Most of the time. At least my parents aren’t here.”

Noah and Angelica both laughed. Noah had known Naomi’s parents all his life, and Angelica had met them recently at an event she’d hosted on behalf of the network that aired her show. Noah had made a point of introducing her to Naomi’s mother, which had in turn made Naomi’s phone nearly explode with text messages and voicemails alternately insinuating that she ought to steal him away and suggesting that she “get over him” by going out with one of the sons of her mother’s society friends. There was a list. Her mother had emailed it to her. Twice.

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