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44
Carter
Kismet
“Remember we’re not staying long, okay?” I adjust the cuffs on my jacket and sweep the crowded room for signs of my agent and his wife.
I spot my one of my oldest friends by the bar talking to Lucia Carras, a bona fide star in the literary world who is also the wife of one his best friends.
“Come on, I see Dave, let’s head over.” I put a hand in the center of her back and try to steer her in their direction.
“Wait,” she hisses and digs her heels in.
“What?”
“How do I look?”
I give her a quick once over. “You look nice,” I say honestly and her frown deepens.
“Ryan’s here tonight, Carter. I know he’s your friend and all, but ugh…I really want him to like me.”
My irritation fizzles in the face of her confession. “You like Ryan? The pediatrician who wears bow ties and doesn’t own a television?”
She sighs dreamily. “Yes, him. On top of all of that, he’s hot. And he’s a doctor that takes care of kids. I mean…what’s not to like?”
“It’s just… your last boyfriend was a football player and the one before that was a model. I thought you liked…you know, those type of guys.”
She groans in annoyance. “No, but they’re all I seem to attract. But Ryan…is what I want. I have never ever been so crazy for anyone in my whole life, and he’s so out of my league.”
“I’m sure he’d say the same about you, Nad,” I reassure her. “Unless of course you make that face you’re wearing right now.”
She harrumphs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re used to seeing him, but this is a big deal for me. I need to make a good impression.”
I have to stop myself from asking the “why” on the tip of my tongue. “Come on, let me introduce you,” I say instead.
She nods, solemnly. Her eyes sparkle, though and I can’t help but smile at her irrepressible excitement. I let her take my hand as we make our way through the crowded living room of Dean’s apartment.
“Hey, there you are,” Milly, his wife steps into our path with a soft scold turning down the corners of her lips even as she presses a kiss to Nadia’s cheek.
“Sorry we’re late. Traffic was murder,” I apologize and shrug out of my coat.
“If you took the subway, you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” Ryan drawls as he walks up with Dean.
“I’d rather be late,” Nadia says at the same time.
Ryan looks at her and smiles. “The party doesn’t start until you get here, so you’re never late.” Dean and I exchange surprised smiles over Nadia’s head.
He’s their kid’s pediatrician and we all play basketball together on the weekends we’re in town, but he’s a stoic, serious, semi grumpy man of very few words. That might the longest sentence I’ve ever heard him say.
“We’re just waiting
for a few more people before we sing happy birthday to Dean,” Milly informs us before she takes our coats and walks away with them.
“Hey guys,” Hetal chirps happily as she joins our little group.
She drops air kisses on our cheeks, even on Ryan’s who I’m sure she’s never met before. But Hetal is the kind of person who has never met a stranger.
We’ve been friends since we were kids. She was born in India and adopted by a family that traces their lineage to the Mayflower. Our families gravitated toward each other when we moved to Brooklyn and our parents are good friends.
