Page 26 of The Problem with Playboys

The elevator dinged and the three stepped on board.

“Why do you guys tell me this stuff with no warning?” Alex asked. “You know I’m not good at keeping secrets.”

“Look, here’s the situation. I took a quick job from Parker Sullivan, but it was mostly to prove to him that what I do is actually a valuable service.” Chloe cleared her throat, knowing she was already sounding defensive. “It wasn’t a big deal. Just a night in Miami together.” As soon as those last words were out of her mouth, she regretted sharing that information. Her voice had reached a pitch that she knew her friends would pick up on.

Alex and Taylor exchanged knowing looks, then Taylor slammed the stop button on the elevator. “Hold on one second. Something happened in Miami, didn’t it? With Parker.”

Chloe was panicked. “Taylor. You can’t do that. They’ll call building security.” She reset the emergency button and the elevator lurched as it resumed its trip upstairs.

“I want details, Chloe. Dirty, filthy details,” Taylor said.

The door slid open to Chloe’s mother’s floor. “How do you even know there are any details?” Chloe whispered, quietly stepping into the grand foyer.

“I can tell,” Taylor said.

“She can tell.” Alex nodded eagerly as if this all made perfect sense.

“I can’t believe you slept with your stepbrother,” Taylor said under her breath.

“Former.Formerstepbrother.” Chloe shook her head. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Girls? Is that you?” Chloe’s mom’s voice came from somewhere off in the expanse of the apartment. Funny that she still referred to them as girls, even though they were in their thirties.

“It’s us, Mom. We’ll be right there,” Chloe called back. “Can we please just have brunch and not talk about this?” she asked Alex and Taylor.

Taylor unleashed a devilish smile. “You always tell us everything eventually. I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

“If there was hot sex involved, I definitely want to know,” Alex added. “I have no sex life. I need to live vicariously through someone.”

Chloe’s face flamed so hot it was like she’d stuck her head in a lava flow. The worst part was that she was sure the heat had turned her cheeks bright pink.

“So therewashot sex.” It wasn’t a question from Taylor. She was making an assertion.

Chloe pointed at Taylor, then Alex. “Both of you. Shush.”

“You can tell us in the elevator on the way down,” Alex said.

“Girls! Mimosas are waiting,” Chloe’s mom announced in a singsong from the other room.

The three friends strode down the long central hall past two well-appointed guest bedrooms and her mother’s showplace of an office, then into the main living space—a great room with the gourmet kitchen her mother rarely used on one side and casual seating on the other. Most of the apartment was tastefully decorated in white and cream with the occasional bit of gray. Her mother’s other homes—the historic family mansion in the Hamptons, the terrace house in London, the lodge in Aspen and the seaside estate in Hawaii weren’t all so neutral. But the Madison Avenue apartment was home base, and a place for her mom to reset when she was newly single, thus the calming color scheme.

“I’m so glad you three are here!” Chloe’s mom exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air then rushing over to wrap Chloe up in a quick but warm embrace. Chloe noticed that her mom felt a bit skinny, but that was normal for her in the wake of a breakup.

“Hi, Mom. It’s so good to see you.” Chloe inhaled the enticing aroma of something delicious baking in the oven.

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world, Ms. B.,” Alex said, eagerly taking her own hug.

Taylor followed. “Thanks for having us.”

“It’s long overdue. I’m sure there’s a lot we need to catch up on.” Chloe’s mom began to unwrap a platter of artfully arranged fruit, which had undoubtedly been assembled by her personal chef. Her mom didn’t cook. But she did present other people’s culinary efforts with flair. Per usual, her mom was very put together, in dark jeans and a white sweater with deep crimson lipstick. Her red hair—a near match for Chloe’s—tumbled past her shoulders. “I’ll just finish getting out the food for everyone. Taylor, if you could pour the mimosas that would be great.”

Taylor filled four glasses, then pulled a barstool up to the center island and took a sip of her drink. “Did you hear Chloe went to Miami?”

Chloe shot her friend a look. “Mom knows. She and I talked the morning I left.”

“I see you didn’t have any time in the sun while you were there. You’ve still got that early spring pale,” her mom said, slipping on a pair of oven mitts just as the kitchen timer went off.

“I was only there for a short time,” Chloe replied.