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“Tell me anyway.”
“Mick’s considering me for his new project. We’re going to meet on Wednesday. Eee!” She squeezes her fists. “We tossed around ideas at Lexie’s party. We seemed in sync, you know? But I didn’t want to be forward and ask him, given our friendship. Might seem like I was taking advantage or something. But holy shit, I’m psyched.” Her eyes pop with excitement. “It’s an awesome project. Great cause, great client, and will be fab for my portfolio. I really want this.”
“You’d be great for it, Jord. I told Mick you’re an amazing architect.”
“Oh.” She deflates.
“No,” I hurry to explain, “Mick mentioned you first. I just gave a thumbs-up. Papa’s Kids is too important for him to hire anyone but the best. If you get the job, it will be based on your own merits.”
“You’re sure?” she questions dubiously. “Because from what I’ve seen, Mick would do anything for you.”
“Not this. He won’t hire you just for me. Whatever advantage you have is because you impressed him at Lexie’s party. And speaking of Lexie...”
She breezes through the restaurant with her usual stylish flair. Belted designer jacket and shiny mink bob swinging against her collar.
“Sorry. A PR planning meeting with a client ran late. What did I miss?”
“Only that Mick might hire me to design the new residence for Papa’s Kids. Can you believe it?”
“Of course,” Lexie says. “The man has taste.”
“Aw.” Jordyn bats her eyelashes, pretending to blush. “That’s so sweet.”
“I know you have a talent for more than just man-eating.” Lexie flashes her white smile and turns to me. “Hi, Dee.”
“Hey, Lex.”
She shrugs out of her jacket, revealing a tapered blouse neatly tucked inside a high-waist pencil skirt, an outfit made for her long, svelte body. I often feel like a big, lumpy potato next to her, but I’m in a better place today.
I shift over and Lexie settles in beside me. We exchange a hug.
“You look wonderful.” She regards my face close-up. “Radiant.”
“Thanks. I feel great. How was the rest of your birthday weekend?”
“Clearly not as good as yours.” She bumps my shoulder.
The server arrives with a basket of warm sourdough bread and runs through the chef’s specials. We order a celebratory bottle of sparkling wine and entrees: a rare steak with crispy frites for Jord, roasted quail on a cauliflower purée for Lexie, and the grilled halibut with cilantro-lime salsa for me.
“Spill the goods, girl,” Jordyn demands when the waitress is gone. “Every dirty detail.”
My feelings of happiness are all so new that I’m almost afraid to jinx them. But excited to rave about my incredible weekend, I lean in and tell my friends everything. Well, almost everything. I don’t mention the meltdown that happened after brunch, as that was a very private moment between Mick and me. Nor do I go into any specifics about our sex life because they’re way too special to share. But I do tell them all about the time I spent with Mick and my family, and the seamless way we reconnected.
Their mouths curve up in thrilled-for-me smiles and Jordyn wags a knowing finger. “Don’t think you’re getting away without some sex deets. If that kiss we witnessed on Friday is any indication, Mick must be smokin’ in bed.”
My pulse kicks into sixth gear just thinking about the way he claims my body as if he wants me more than anything in the world…how the feel of his hands, his mouth, drive me wild, how loving him cuts to my very soul and makes me lose my mind.
“Holy shit!” She tosses her napkin at me. “You lucky bitch.”
I grin and toss the linen back. “He curls my toes every time.”
Both women squeal with delight. When the server brings over our wine, we raise our glasses.
“To toe-curling sex,” Jordyn toasts.
“To you and Mick,” Lexie adds.
“To second chances.” I click my glass to theirs and take a good luck sip of bubbly wine.
