Nicole tilts her head in the direction of Elle. “Wait, James? I hate that guy. We went to prep school together, and he was always such an asshole.”
“Yes, he has his moments,” I say, keeping my tone light. “But I really like the job, most days. And the city.”
“Oh, that’s true,” Nicole adds, and I catch the faintest flick of a smile. Maybe it’s harmless, but it’s leaning towards not. “You’re not from around here.”
“No,” I say, tucking my feet up under the robe. “Argentina, originally. Buenos Aires before New York.”
Hannah glances over, expression unreadable. “That’s… quite the jump.”
“It was. Still is sometimes,” I admit. “But Elle made it so much easier.”
Elle lifts her head from her lounger again, eyes warm, like she’s remembering those first months too. “She’s being modest. She handled the move much better than most people who’ve lived in the city their whole lives. And she learned the subway faster than I did.”
“That’s debatable,” I say, grinning. “I got so lost my first week that I ended up in Queens when I was supposed to be in Midtown.”
Amelia laughs. “Oh god, I could never take the subway.”
“She texted me in a panic, and I sent a car to pick her up,” Elle says. “The benefits of having a car service on speed dial, honestly.”
“Yeah, and I haven’t really taken the subway alone since,” I say with a faint smile on my face. The idea terrifies me. I know that I should learn how to navigate the city but… “I gave up and started walking to work every day. About thirty blocks one way.”
Nicole’s brows jump. “That’s… commitment.”
“Completely out of necessity,” I say, smiling. “But then I realized I liked it—taking different routes every day, finding new thrift stores, and seeing shop windows change with the seasons. There’s always something to look at.”
Elle points a finger without opening her eyes. “See? This is why she fits in. She actuallylooksat New York instead of just rushing through it.”
“That’s actually how I discovered this tiny little antique shop in the Lower East Side that has the best vintage jewelry. I’ve been working on my bangle collection since I moved here.”
Nicole’s gaze flicks up at that, softer than usual, like she wants to admit something but thinks better of it. The moment is gone as quickly as it comes, her glass tipped back toward her lips.
Hannah hums like she doesn’t quite agree. “Guess I’ve never thought of walking as fun.”
“Different perspectives,” I say, settling deeper into the lounger. “That’s half the fun of moving somewhere new.”
The conversation drifts on, the storm clouds outside drawing closer. I let their voices swirl around me—some warm, some cooler—feeling both part of and separate from the group. Elle’s presence is an anchor, though, her occasional smile or squeeze of my knee reminding me I’m not entirely adrift.
By the timeour treatments are over, the rain has started in earnest, fat drops streaking the floor-to-ceiling windows in uneven trails. The indoor pool area is busier now, steam curling above the water and blurring the edges of everything.
We pad out from the changing rooms, hair still damp from the showers, robes cinched tight. The air is warm and humid, the faint chlorine tang mixing the citrusy smell coming from the juice bar. This definitely looks like any upscale New York gym, except make itheavilyEuropean.
Elle spots the guys first—Jack, Connor, Sterling and Cash—sitting at one of the low tables tucked under an overhang in the lobby. Jack is gesturing animatedly with a glass of somethingbright green, while Cash scrolls his phone with the single-minded focus of someone avoiding small talk.
Connor is the only one who looks up as we approach.
And it’s more than a glance. It’s a slow shift, his attention narrowing until it lands squarely on me. His hair is darker wet, pushed back carelessly, a few short strands falling loose to his forehead. There’s the faintest shadow along his jaw, like he hasn’t shaved since yesterday, and his brown eyes are fixed on me in a way that feels too deliberate to be casual. They flick down—quick, almost imperceptible, to the rolled cuffs of my robe before coming back to my face.
“Still in your robes?” Jack says, getting up to kiss Elle’s cheek. “How was it?”
“Amazing,” Amelia says, reaching for the bowl of mixed nuts on the table and moving slightly to sit on Cash’s lap. “Except for Nicole almost drowning in the plunge pool.”
Nicole snorts. “I didnotalmost drown. It wascold. Where’s Banks?”
Elle and Jack fall into their own side conversation, and Cash starts talking about what the men did for their part of the spa day to both Amelia and Nicole. I overhear something about Banks enjoying the sauna a little too much—whatever that means—and heading to the house earlier to take a nap.
Somehow, I end up standing across from Connor, the table between us, and the rest of the group drifts around us like background noise. It’s ridiculous, but the second our eyes meet, my brain cues up last night again—his voice low in the dark, the warmth of his hand when it brushed mine, the way I’d gone to bed with that stupid restless hum under my skin, my heart thumping nonstop in my chest.
“Good massage?” he asks, voice pitched low enough that it doesn’t have to compete with the others.
