Page 51 of The Shake Off

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“Why are you staring at me?” I found myself asking for the second time today.

Kit shrugged. “Dunno, you look different. Did you have a facial before you came to meet us?”

“Don’t be silly.” I shook my head. “It’s probably the ridiculously flattering lighting in this place. How can you not look good in here?”

“Yeah, probably,” she grinned, and plopped herself down on the couch next to me. “We both know you’d drop from a ten to a five as soon as we walked onto the street and the natural daylight hits.”

I stuck my tongue out at her.

We were currently in the den of Kit and Murray’s mega apartment, as I liked to call it – the one with six bedrooms and a view of Central Park, a terrace that was big enough to have trees on it, and an entrance foyer that could double as an art museum if it wanted to. Flattering lighting kind of went with the vibe here. It was the type of lighting that made you look like you wrapped yourself in cashmere and got twelve hours sleep every night.

I snuggled into the couch and pulled one of the cashmere blankets from the backrest, throwing it over my lap just to prove a point to myself.

“Did Bell go down okay?”

“Yeah, she’s got her favorite stuffy and Barclay in bed with her, so she’ll fall asleep in no time,” Kit affirmed, picking up the bottle of wine that she’d brought in with her. “He’ll be in here the second the food arrives though.”

I hadn’t had the most productive day today, but ithadbeen fun. I’d arrived at work with all the expectations of Nathalie Cheung being so beside herself with excitement that I’d brought her the entire Ace Watson signed merchandise range, that she’d move me to the fiftieth floor immediately. But when I went up to find her, her P.A. informed me she was out at a conference in D.C. for the next three days, the same one Susie Van Marin was attending.

I’d left the bag with the P.A., and promptly walked back out of the office to play hooky. I’d met Kit and Bell, and their Labrador, Barclay, in the park. Then we’d come back here to hang out for the rest of the afternoon. Murray had gone to the Lions game; Kit and I had bathed Bell and put her to bed.

It was something I tried to do at least once a week, being the godmother and all. It was usually on the nights Murray was out with his boys, so Kit and I would get to have some girl time together. I also felt it was my duty to spend time with Bell and make sure she had someone to teach her about proper footwear, seeing as her mother seemed to live exclusively in sneakers. Bell might only be two, but it was never too young to start them early.

The other benefit of spending time here was Murray’s wine cellar, because while I liked wine, he was a borderline professional and ordered it by the very-expensive case load. The cork in the bottle we had planned to drink tonight, however, didn’t seem to want to move.

“Let me try.” I took the bottle and stuck it between my knees. The corkscrew eased out slowly with a loud pop just as the door buzzed.

“Yes!” Kit cried, jumping up and sprinting out of the room.

I finished pouring the wine, and ran back to the kitchen for plates when she returned, her arms laden with our delivery, Barclay hot on her heels. Whenever we had a night together, we always ordered the same thing from our favorite deli – the best lemon spaghetti I’d ever had in my entire life, a big salad, and three portions of fresh asparagus, because we always had to get extra for Murray.

My stomach rumbled and my mouth filled with saliva as the smell of butter and citrus filled the air from each box opening. Kit passed me the spaghetti tongs and I scooped up a big bowl for each of us.

“Yum, thanks,” she replied, taking one from me and twisting a forkful into her mouth before she’d properly sat back down.

She snatched up the remote and switched through the channels until she found The Bachelor reruns.

“We’re not watching baseball?”

She glanced up at me. “Yeah, just seeing what else is on.”

I leaned forward and picked up my glass of wine, trying to keep my voice way more casual than I felt. “Let’s see what’s going on with the game first. We already watched The Bachelor.”

“Sure, okay.” She flicked back through until she found The Lions game.

It was already top of the second inning; the score was still zero to both The Lions and The Red Sox, which was an improvement on the previous games so far this season – especially the opener.

The Red Sox were pitching, so it wasn’t clear whether Ace had started. Lux Weston stepped up to the home plate and hit a line drive to third, but the Red Sox third basemen wasn’t quick enough and it slipped through his fingers, continuing its journey to the outfield. As Lux ran around the bases and back into the dugout, the camera panned along the benches. Riley Rivers was sitting where Ace usually sat, which likely meant Ace hadn’t pitched yet.

I tried to ignore the way my chest tightened.

Stupid superstition.

But at least now the Lions had made it on the score board.

The Lions took the field, and Riley Rivers walked slowly to the mound. I tried to ignore the sinking in my stomach. The commentators started up while the camera followed the teams change over, and I stabbed my fork through the salad leaves.

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