Sam caught her eye across the table and smiled. “Tequila. It’s always the answer.”
The next line in their routine sprang from Nellie’s lips instantly: “Even if there isn’t a question.”
“Let me get another look at that rock.” Josie grabbed Nellie’s hand. “Does Richard have a hot, rich brother? Just, you know, asking for a friend.”
Nellie pulled her hand back, hiding the three-carat diamond under the table—she always felt uncomfortable when her friends made a fuss over it—then laughed. “Sorry, only an older sister.”
Maureen was coming to New York for the summer, as she had in past years, to teach a six-week course at Columbia. Nellie was finally going to meet her in a couple days.
An hour later, the waiter had cleared their plates and Nellie was opening her presents.
“This one’s from Marnie and me,” said Donna, an assistant 4s teacher, handing Nellie a silver box with a bright red bow. Nellie pulled out a black silk teddy as Josie released a wolf whistle. Nellie held it up against her body, hoping it would fit.
“Is that for her or Richard?” asked Sam.
“It’s gorgeous. I’m sensing a sexy-night theme here, ladies.” Nellie laid it next to the Jo Malone perfume, position-of-the-day playing cards, and body-massage candles she’d already unwrapped.
“Last but not least.” Sam handed Nellie a gift bag containing a silver picture frame. Inside was a thick piece of ecru paper and a poem printed in italics. “You can take the paper out and put in a wedding photo.”
Nellie began to read aloud:
I remember the day I met you, the way you won my affection
You gave me Advil for my hangover at the Learning Ladder; we had an instant connection
It was your first job in New York City, and your path I did lead
Showing you the best spin studios and where to find the closest Duane Reade
I taught you the ropes, like how to stay on Linda’s good side
And about the secret supply closet, for when you just needed to hide
We soon became roomies in an apartment with bugs
Overflowing with makeup, magazines, and kids’ decorated mugs
You were late with the rent—let’s face it, you’re not good with money
And I’m a bit messy—always leaving out my mugs and honey
Over the years you’ve taught kids how to count and to write
And how to use their words, not their hands, when they begin to fight
Every day we worked hard—couldn’t the parents tell we were trying?
Still sometimes we’d get yelled at, and then we’d just start crying
We’ve been together for an amazing five years
We know each other so well—our hopes and our fears
You got engaged and Linda bought you a fancy cake with many calories
How ironic that it cost more than our combined salaries
You’re moving out soon and I worry I might sink
At the very least I’m sure it will drive me to drink (ahem, more)
But when you’re walking down the aisle wearing something old and new
Please know that you’ll always be my best friend and I really love you.
Nellie could barely finish the poem. It brought her back to her early days in the city, when she’d been desperate to put distance between herself and all that had happened in Florida. She’d traded palm trees for pavement, and a loud, busy sorority house for an impersonal apartment building. Everything was different. Except the memories had followed her across the miles, draping around her like a heavy cloak.
If it hadn’t been for Sam, she might not have stayed. She could still be running, still trying to find a place that felt safe. Nellie leaned over the table and gave her roommate a tight hug, then wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Sam. I love it.” She paused. “Thanks to all of you. I’m going to miss you. And . . .”
“Oh, stop, don’t get sappy. You’ll only be a train ride away. We’ll see you all the time. Only now you’ll always pick up the tab,” said Josie.
Nellie let out a small laugh.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Samantha pushed back her chair. “The Killer Angels are playing at Ludlow Street. Let’s go dance.”
Nellie hadn’t smoked a cigarette since her last year of college, but now, three Marlboro Lights, three tequila shots, and two glasses of wine later, she had been dancing for hours and could feel a trickle of sweat running down her back. Maybe leather pants hadn’t been the wisest choice. Across the room, a cute bartender was wearing Samantha’s veil and flirting with Marnie.
“I almost forgot how much I love to dance,” Nellie shouted over the pulsing music.
“And I almost forgot what a terrible dancer you are,” shouted back Josie.
Nellie laughed. “I’m enthusiastic!” she protested. She lifted her arms over her head and did an exaggerated shimmy before spinning around in a circle. Halfway through her spin, she froze.
“Heya, Nick,” Josie said as a tall, slim guy in a faded Rolling Stones concert, circa 1979, T-shirt and dark wash jeans walked up to them.
“What are you doing here?” Nellie asked, belatedly realizing her arms were still above her head. She pulled them down and folded them across her chest, aware of how her damp tank top was clinging to her body.
“Josie invited me. I moved back a few weeks ago.”
Nellie glared at her friend, and Josie made a mock-innocent face and shrugged, then melted away in the crowd.
Nick had waited tables alongside Nellie for a year, until he moved to Seattle with his band. Slick Nick, they’d all called him, although a few heartbroken women in his wake had modified it to Nick the Prick. He was the hottest guy Nellie had ever dated—although “dated” wasn’t an accurate description of their encounters, since most took place in a bedroom.
Nick’s black hair was shorter now, emphasizing his sharp cheekbones. Any one of his features—his blunt nose, his heavy eyebrows, his wide mouth—might have been overpowering alone, but together, they all worked. They worked even better than Nellie had remembered.
“I can’t believe you’re engaged. It seems like we were just hanging out. . . .” He reached over and slowly ran his hand up her bare arm.
Her body responded instantly, even though she pulled her arm away and took a step back.
How predictable that Nick was interested in her again now that she was taken. He’d stopped answering her texts about two minutes after he left the city. He’d always liked a challenge.
“Happily engaged. The wedding is next month.”
Nick’s heavy-lidded eyes appeared amused. “You don’t look like someone who’s about to get married.”
“What does that mean?”
Someone bumped into her from behind, pushing her closer to Nick. He curved an arm around her waist. “You look hot,” he said softly, his lips so close to her ear that the dark stubble on his chin tickled her skin. “The girls in Seattle don’t compare to you.”
She felt a tug in her lower stomach.
“I’ve missed you. Missed us.” His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her shirt to rest against her lower back. “Remember that rainy Sunday when we stayed in bed all day?”
He smelled like whiskey and she could feel the heat of his taut body through his T-shirt.
The pulsing music and heat of the crowded room made her feel dizzy. A strand of her hair fell into her eyes and Nick smoothed it away.
He bent his head slowly, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “One last kiss? For old times’ sake?”
Nellie arched her back to look up at him and offered him her cheek.
He gently cupped her chin, turned her mouth toward his, and kissed her softly. His tongue grazed her lips and she parted them. He pulled her tightly against him and she let out an involuntary groan.
She hated to admit it even to herself, but although sex with Richard was always good, with Nick, it had been great.
“I can’t.” She pushed him away, breathing harder than when she’d been dancing.
“C’mon, baby.”
She shook her head and walked toward the bar, squeezing between people and flinching as a man’s elbow bumped into her right temple. She stumbled over someone’s foot.