Love on Lexington Avenue(54)

Save for the charities and getting together with Audrey and Naomi when their schedules allowed for it, she had none of that now. Following Brayden’s death, she’d had her renovation to keep her occupied. Planning out her vision for her house had been a way to fill the void in those endless, torturous months after the funeral. She’d spent hours each day planning, brainstorming, furniture shopping . . .

Now, even that was coming to a close. She’d have her dream house, and then . . .

What?

She had no job, no hobbies, few friends, minimal skills.

Claire pictured her life in a couple of months: The renovations would be done, the redecorating close to complete. Scott would be long gone. Audrey and Naomi would still be up for the spontaneous lunch or coffee, and Claire was realizing it was probably long past time to patch up some of her other friendships.

But she didn’t want to go back to being a socialite. She wanted to find something that excited her, maybe even something that could bring in a little money. She’d inherited plenty from Brayden, and up until this point she hadn’t felt bad in the least living off of it.

If she were going to move on—really move on—shouldn’t she start by doing something with her life? But what? She didn’t have Naomi’s business sense, wasn’t the least bit interested in whatever the heck Audrey did on Instagram. Her bachelor’s degree was in marketing, which felt vague to her even then, and more than a decade later she didn’t have the foggiest clue what to do with it. Or if she even wanted to. Not to mention, the thought of reentering the workforce at age thirty-five with what was basically an intern-level skill set was as daunting as it was unappealing.

Claire picked up her phone and started a group text to Naomi and Audrey, then remembering Naomi was in Houston for some jewelry trade show, she limited the text to just Audrey.





Claire agreed, having learned by now that part of being friends with Audrey meant playing amateur photographer for Audrey’s Instagram feed.

An hour and a half later, she and Audrey sat side by side on a bench in Central Park, sipping pumpkin spice lattes and devouring the doughnuts Claire had picked up on her way across town.

“I half expected you to get a strawberry doughnut,” Audrey said, licking the chocolate from her own doughnut off her thumb.

“They didn’t have one,” Claire said, biting into her maple bar flecked with little bits of bacon. “Besides, I think I’m backing off the strawberry lemonade revolution just a little.”

“Oh yeah?”

Claire nodded thoughtfully. “It was good to break out of my vanilla rut, but I don’t want to move from one rut to another. I’m just trying to be more . . . open, I guess.” She held up her doughnut. “Case in point, maple bar with bacon instead of the usual glazed.” She picked up her coffee cup. “Pumpkin spice instead of vanilla chai.”

“Not me,” Audrey said, polishing off the rest of her doughnut. “Chocolate is my bae for now and always. It’s one rut I’m happy to be in. Does this new plan mean you’re abandoning your Barbie dream house?”

“No, I still like the idea of some pink.” she admitted. “But just like with food choices, I’m realizing it’s more about variety. Something other than white walls, you know? I found this gorgeous marigold color for the foyer. Navy for the sitting room. Pink accents in the powder room. I’m still deciding on the upstairs, but the painting will be the final touch, so I’ve got another week or so to decide.”

“That fast?” Audrey said in surprise.

Claire shrugged. “Apparently. Scott’s true to his word that he works fast. I can’t believe how quickly everything has come together. Walls have been knocked down, furniture dragged away. New sinks and toilets for all the bathrooms. He’s doing the hardwood floors today, and I can’t even tell you how glad I am to be done with that nasty, ancient carpet. I slept with him.”

Audrey choked on her latte. “Sorry, what?”

Claire ran a finger around the lid of her cup. “I slept with Scott.”

“I knew there was something going on there. Nobody dances the way you two danced at that gala without there being serious chemistry. When? How was it?”

“Last night, and . . . epic.”

Audrey’s eyes went wide. “Epic. I don’t know that I’ve experienced epic.”

Claire gave her a look. “Not with Brayden?”

Audrey wrinkled her nose. “It still skeeves me out to know we were sleeping with him at the same time.”

“Same,” Claire said. “But I’m taking solace in knowing that while Brayden was competent, Scott was . . .”

“Epic?” Audrey supplied. “I bet Brayden hates that from his front-row seat in hell.”

“I just realized,” Claire said, glancing around. “This is all very reminiscent of our first meeting.”

“It is!” Audrey said. “It was a few blocks north of here, and of course there’s no Naomi, but yeah. We’re basically at the site of our pact.”

“You know, when I agreed to Naomi’s plan to help each other avoid men, I never thought that a little more than a year later, I’d be sitting in almost the same spot talking about . . . a man.”

“We didn’t agree to help each other avoid men,” Audrey argued. “We agreed to help each other avoid the bad ones. And Scott’s not one of the bad ones.”