Love on Lexington Avenue(11)

“Same, but add salmon for me,” Audrey said.

“Croque Madame. With fries,” Naomi ordered.

Claire handed her menu to the server, but when he reached out to take it, Claire’s fingers didn’t release it, realizing she’d just ordered a salad. Of course she had. Because she always ordered the salad.

“Actually, I’ll take the Croque Madame as well,” she told the waiter, finally releasing the menu.

“Fries?” he asked, scribbling the correction in his notebook.

“Why not.”

The server moved away, and both her friends were studying her.

“What was that?” Naomi demanded. “I feel like something just happened.”

“Yes. I changed my food order,” Claire said, sipping her champagne.

“Yes, to fries. You never get fries. And you love salad.”

“Nobody loves salad, but not all of us are running fiends,” Claire said pointedly at the exceptionally fit Naomi.

“Plus, she’s burning all sorts of calories having sex,” Audrey grumbled.

Naomi gave another of those secret, smug smiles as she took a demure sip of her champagne.

Audrey sighed. “And it’s good sex, too. You can tell by her face.”

“Oh, it’s not my face that knows it’s good. Well, actually—”

“Nope,” Claire cut in. “I love you; I love Oliver; I do not want details.”

“I do,” Audrey said morosely.

“You know, I’d feel worse for you if you were even trying to have sex,” Naomi said, giving Audrey’s arm a playful flick. “When was the last time you went on a date? Or you?” She glanced at Claire.

“It’s not that I don’t want to date,” Audrey protested. “I just haven’t felt the spark. I don’t want to date for the sake of dating.”

“Why not?” Naomi asked. “It’s fun.”

“Is it?” Claire interjected.

Naomi gave her a look.

“No, I’m really asking,” Claire said with a laugh. “Other than the awful blind date you sent me on a few months back, I haven’t dated anyone since Brayden. I guess I’ve never understood the point of dating just for the ‘fun’ of it.”

“Is that why you were interrogating Audrey on the nature of flirting?” Naomi asked.

“Sort of. Seeing you with that guy in the hardware store—”

“Good Lord, sweetie, you can’t date that guy,” Naomi interrupted, aghast. “Not only was his breath appalling, but even more prohibitively, someone apparently has managed to look past his egg breath to marry the guy. He was wearing a ring.”

“I don’t want to date that guy,” Claire said in exasperation. “I was just marveling at the way you marched right up to him and effortlessly charmed the pants off him.”

“Huh,” Naomi said. “I can’t figure out if I’ve just been insulted or if there’s a compliment in there.”

“A compliment,” Claire reassured her. “I love the way that you don’t overthink things. Neither of you do,” she added, with a glance at Audrey.

“Well, that’s not always a good thing,” Audrey pointed out. “Maybe had we thought through things just a little bit more, we wouldn’t have ended up all falling for the same guy.”

“That’s why we have our pact,” Naomi said. “Impulse control, as it relates to the opposite sex.”

Claire thoughtfully tapped her nails against her champagne flute. “What if I said I wanted your help with less impulse control?”

Audrey reached over and set the back of her fingers to Claire’s forehead. “Hmm, nope. No fever. Wait. Is that what the cupcake binge was about? And you wanting to go grab pizza after?”

“I missed cupcakes and pizza?” Naomi said.

“Sex,” Claire and Audrey reminded her at the same time.

“Fine,” Naomi muttered. “So, what are we dealing with here? A food revolution? You’ve decided to banish salads and embrace fries, cupcakes, and pizza to get out of your rut? Please say yes.”

“I’m not really sure yet,” Claire admitted. “I just know something needs to change, and I have to start somewhere. Why not with cupcakes and French fries?”

“And your house,” Audrey reminded her.

Naomi tapped the table excitedly with her palm. “Oh! That reminds me, I never got the lowdown on Scott.”

“Who’s Scott?” Audrey asked.

“My contractor,” Claire said wrinkling her nose.

“You hired him!” Naomi said, pleased.

“I think so?” Claire said.

“What do you mean you think so?”

“Well, he never really told me how much he was charging me, just said we’d figure it out later.”

“Yeah, that’s Scott for you,” Naomi said. “Super fly by the seat of his pants.”

“You might have also mentioned he’s a little abrasive,” Claire said.

“Abrasive?” Naomi titled her head. “He’s more just . . .”

“Rude, condescending, and opinionated?”

“Maybe a little,” Naomi admitted. “He’s good at his job, and he knows it. And has no issues saying it.”