“One of Felix’s sisters knows Gabe’s sister and they started chatting and—”
“Girl!” she cries. “Are you in a soap opera?”
“Feels like it. Especially after Gabe low-key announced to everyone that he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
She claps her hand over her mouth. “Oh dear God. What was Felix’s reaction?”
“He seemed… dismayed.”
“Understandable. Have you talked to him?”
“I hid in the bathroom and texted him to try to explain, but it fell kind of flat. And when we got back I asked him to hang out and he said he was busy all day.”
“Shit,” she says.
“Yeah. Feels not good.”
“Well, it’s not your fault your ex showed up. And not to be harsh, but you don’t owe Felix anything. You just met.”
“I know. But I understand him being taken aback. I mean, what he saw looked pretty intense. If I had seenhimdoing that with an ex after last night, I’d have been upset too. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Well, you just need to talk to him. And he can’t exactly avoid you forever. He lives three doors away.”
“I guess I could do a stakeout.”
“No ma’am. What you need is a girls’ night.”
This sounds incredibly soothing. “Yes, please,” I say.
“Let’s go to the tapas place before we hit karaoke.”
We get dressed up. She wears a low-cut, backless, taupe silk dress that only a woman with more clavicles than breasts can pull off. I choose a wide-legged jumpsuit and cinch it at the waist with a narrow vintage belt. I’m pleased when Lauren pronounces it sexy and doesn’t even try to make me change.
She downloads me on all her suitors at dinner. Her eyes light up in an unfamiliar way when she gets to Colin, the distiller.
“I think I actually like him. And you’ll be pleased to learn he’s only forty-six.”
“Spring chicken.”
“Oh, come on. He meets the age-gap rule!”
“What’s the age-gap rule?”
“Half your age plus seven. So if he’s forty-eight, the youngest he can date is…” She performs a mental calculation, then smiles triumphantly. “Thirty-one.”
“You’re thirty,” I remind her.
“Rounding error.”
“Well I’m glad you hit it off.”
Usually the men she meets on her “missions” are more for content than real romantic interest.
She waggles her eyebrows. “He booked a private sailing trip for us tomorrow in St. Thomas.”
“That sounds lovely. Even if it means I’ll be snorkeling alone.”
She gives me a look like I’m an utter dunderhead. “Um, no. Invite Felix. Get out your phone and do it right now.”
