“So, do you live around here?” he asks.
“I do,” I answer. “I’m in Tudor City on 41st Street.”
“Oh, nice. That’s near the water, right? I love that block.”
A smile spreads across my face. “Me, too.”
I’m gearing up to keep our conversation going when Kyle pats Adam on the shoulder once again. We say goodbye and Maggie and I watch the boys walk away until they’re out of view.
“And who, pray tell, was that?” I ask, turning to Maggie.
She shrugs with a smirk. “I met Kyle last week at my cousin’s birthday.”
“I daresay he is very handsome. Got a good feeling about this one?”
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself but it’s fair to assume that he’s my future husband and the father of my unborn children.”
“Fantastic. Does he know that yet?”
“No, but he will after we go out for happy hour this week.”
“Because half-priced drinks are notoriously conducive to enduring love.”
“That’s what I always say.”
I shake my head with a grin as our waitress appears and introduces herself. We tell her what we’d like and are told that select cocktails are included with our brunch special.
“Excellent!” Maggie beams. “My friend and I will each get a Bellini. We’re actually here celebrating our engagements.”
I almost choke on my water at Maggie’s words. The waitress congratulates us and walks off to get our drinks.
“Are you high?” I ask through a laugh.
“What? I honestly think marriage proposals are on the horizon for us. Kyle and Ryan are very lucky men.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I say.
“Oh, well. Gotta fake it till you make it.”
7
“So I send you a freak-out text, and you show up thirty minutes later with pandebono and coffee? I’ve made my decision. I’m marrying you instead of Jason.”
“We’re going to be a beautiful couple.”
I step inside as Cristina pushes her door back farther, dressed in a faded NYU T-shirt, soft lounging pants and fuzzy slippers. We plop down onto her couch moments later and I edge my sneakers off before curling my feet into the blue velvet cushions.
Cristina and Jason’s NoHo apartment is a beautiful loft with exposed brick and visible ductwork along the ceiling. Plush rugs and contemporary artwork make the space feel homey even with the industrial atmosphere. The place would be perfect except Cristina swears a stowaway mouse lives in the radiators. She hasn’t spotted her tiny, non-rent-paying roommate yet, but those guys can be unavoidable in an old building like this.
“Now, what’s with all the ‘send help’ messages?” I ask, leaning forward to rip open the bakery bag that’s separating us from our cheesy bread goodness. “Did Jason’s work people still not RSVP? Did the florist finally send over the centerpiece sample?”
I glance around the apartment but see no trace of the human-sized purple orchid centerpieces that are going to grace all forty tables at the reception.
“No, no centerpieces as of yet,” Cristina says. “I have to talk to you about something else.”
Her voice sounds calm but I also catch the uncertainty. I sit back, giving her my full attention. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay with Jason?”
“No. I mean, yes, he’s fine. I’m just a little stressed at the moment and I need you to help center me.”
“Okay, but remember you’re less than a week away from your wedding. Stress is normal.”
“This is not normal. Guess who’s moving in with us for the next six days—what could be considered the most important six days of our lives.”
“I don’t know,” I answer after hesitating. “Jason’s mom?”
“Oh, god, don’t even joke about that! Jason’s mom is encamped at the Four Seasons and would happily remain there for the rest of her natural life. No, I’m referring to your boy toy, Ryan.”
I hate to say it, but the mere mention of Ryan’s name is enough to make my whole body tense. “Ryan is moving in with you? Why?”
“Oh, this is a great story,” Cristina says, laughing without the slightest trace of humor. “Ryan is staying with us because he was kicked out of his hotel. Apparently, he brought his dog with him, because of course people do that when they’re attending out-of-town weddings, and the dog trashed the room while we were at Butter last night.”
“Are you serious?” I ask. “He left his dog in the hotel alone?”
“No, Jason’s other genius groomsman, Beau, was supposed to watch him but decided to go meet up with one of my friends from work. A guest made a noise complaint so the manager went in, and you can imagine what happened from there.”
“And now Ryan and his dog are moving in with you?”
“That is correct. Beau is loaded, so he got his own room at a different hotel that doesn’t allow dogs, and Ryan is staying here. Jason thinks it won’t be a big deal and feels bad because any hotel Ryan books now will be ridiculously expensive. I offered to pay for it myself but eventually caved because some lunatic started a rumor that you’re supposed to compromise in relationships.”
I’m about to come up with a comforting response when Cristina’s apartment door swings open, banging against the wall. We crane our necks to look behind the couch and in walks Jason, followed by Ryan, followed by one slightly overweight bulldog.
Cristina turns back to me and takes a deep breath in through her nose. “I’m going to have a panic attack.”
“No, you’re not,” I say quickly and quietly, getting up from the couch. “Hey, guys!” I cross the room with a friendly smile, and it almost falters when Ryan openly grimaces at me. I consider vampire hissing back at him in response, but then figure one of us should act like an adult. I do my best to ignore him as I squat down in front of his canine better half, who’s now pulling excitedly against his leash, trying to get to me.
Ryan’s dog has bristly white fur with wide caramel patches, and I instantly want to pick him up and cuddle him even though he
