Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(3)

Lori arched a single brow, one corner of her mouth rising simultaneously, looking pleased. Olivia warmed faintly at the unspoken praise. She had a sharp memory, necessary in a profession like this.

“Good.” Lori pointed at the paper in Olivia’s hand. “Brendon’s and Annie’s cells are listed at the top. Backup numbers for the Maid of Honor and Best Woman are below those. Just in case.”

Listed on the paper beneath B. Lowell and A. Kyriakos was D. Lowell and M. Cooper.

M. Cooper.

Olivia traced the inked name with the tip of her finger. In a city of nearly four million people, what were the chances of this M. Cooper being the same M. Cooper Olivia knew from high school? Her face warmed; the rest of her, too. Slim. The chances were slim.

“I’ll forward you his email with details on budget and guest list. Lucky for us, we already have a head count.”

Lucky was right.

“Well, go on.” Lori shooed Olivia out of the office. “You’ve got a lot work ahead of you.”

*

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s time to put some feelers out, start the hunt for a new roommate. It’s been six months since the last one moved out.”

As if Margot Cooper needed the reminder of how long it had been. It was the longest she’d lived alone, a fact of which she was painfully aware. “I know, Elle.”

“Doesn’t the quiet bother you?” Margot’s best friend frowned and leaned her shoulder against the crosswalk pole. “It would bother me.”

Elle didn’t have to worry about coming home to an empty apartment. A little over a year ago, she’d moved out of the place she and Margot had shared and in with her girlfriend, Darcy, at the same time Annie—Darcy’s best friend—had moved in with Margot. That arrangement had lasted a brief two months before Annie had moved in with her now-fiancé, Brendon, Darcy’s brother.

None of it would’ve happened had Margot and Elle, the voices behind the astronomically successful social media–based astrology business Oh My Stars, not partnered with Brendon’s dating app, One True Pairing, to incorporate astrological compatibility to the app’s matching algorithm two years ago. Not only had it been a smart career move, beneficial for both OTP and Oh My Stars, but Margot had also lucked out, finding a close friend in Brendon. And thanks to Brendon, Elle had met Darcy. Wins all around.

Except for the part where Margot was down a roommate and now came home to an empty apartment, ate dinner alone more nights than not, and had started saying good night to her plants. An admission she could kick herself over confessing to Elle, the reason behind this whole conversation.

“Maybe I’ll get a cat,” she mused, stepping out into the street when the light turned green.

Elle snorted. “Except for the part where you hate cats.”

“I do not hate cats.” She sniffed. “I have a . . . healthy respect for anything that could rip my face off.”

It was common sense. Self-preservation. Survival skills.

Elle bumped Margot with her hip. “Healthy fear, more like.”

“Call it what you want.” Margot shrugged. “I’m strongly considering adopting a cat.”

Elle whipped out her phone, eyes flitting between the screen and the building up ahead. “And I think you should strongly consider getting a human roommate. You know, someone you can actually talk to.”

Margot opened her mouth.

“Someone who can actually talk back.” Elle nibbled on her bottom lip, footsteps slowing to a stop in front of the entrance to the venue. “I know you’re a little gun-shy after your last roommate.”

More like last string of roommates.

Margot snorted at Elle’s tact. “I’m not gun-shy. I’m being selective, and for good reason. I’ve already put feelers out, Elle. I’ve got my ear to the ground. I know I need a new roommate.” She huffed. “Preferably one who doesn’t have a habit of taking Ambien, sleepwalking into my closet, and popping a squat over my shoes at three in the morning.”

Elle cringed.

That wasn’t even taking into consideration the roommate who’d stolen Margot’s credit card or the one who’d owned an ant farm. An ant farm Margot had known nothing about until she’d woken up to the floor moving on one memorable Sunday morning.

Margot’s recent luck with roommates wasn’t just bad, it was abysmal.

Elle stared, eyes wide and full of sympathy, and it made Margot’s skin itch. The perks and pitfalls of having a best friend who knew her so well that she could hear what Margot wasn’t saying.

“Look, can we just . . . put a pin in it and circle back around?” Margot flipped her wrist over, checking the time on her Fitbit. Five ’til. Now wasn’t the time or the place for Margot to throw herself a pity party. “It’s almost six.”

Elle stole another peek at her phone and smiled. “Darcy texted. They’re already inside.”

Stepping through the door, Elle led the way down a winding hall lined with doors on each side, the sound of Brendon’s boisterous laugh growing louder as they approached. Margot ducked her head inside an open door and cringed at the decor. Between the heart-shaped, glitter-filled balloons floating aimlessly along the perimeter of the room and the pink confetti littering the floor, it looked like Cupid had jizzed all over the reception space.