Passion on Park Avenue (Central Park Pact #1)(12)

“You two fit right in,” Naomi said.

“She does,” Claire said, nodding at Audrey in a forest green turtleneck sweater, wide black belt, and over-the-knee boots.

“And you,” Naomi insisted. Claire’s wardrobe adhered more to classic than trendy, but the woman knew the basic rules of style and, even more important to Naomi’s critical eye, knew her way around accessories.

Naomi was a big believer that the only crime worse than no accessories were too many, and Claire’s gold necklace with a tiny diamond pendant and matching stud earrings were the perfect choices for her outfit. Anything more would have overwhelmed the white silk blouse and gray slacks.

“So I was going to come in here claiming that I forgot to put in earrings this morning,” Audrey said, unabashedly poking through some of the merchandise on the table, “but I may have kind of, sort of forgotten on purpose on the off chance your selection was better than mine, which it so is.”

“Help yourself,” Naomi said, waving her hand. “Those are free samples. I haven’t really had a chance to dig through them yet, so I’d love your thoughts.”

“Oooh, rose gold,” Audrey said with a delighted clap. “It’s so in.”

As Audrey browsed through the earrings, Naomi turned her attention to Claire, giving the woman a careful study. She’d known the woman only two months, but true to her premonition in the park that day, their friendship had been on the fast track. They’d already had countless brunches, happy hours, and most telling of all, that late-night, soul-sharing kind of texting that left you feeling like you knew the other person.

Maybe it was these texts, maybe it was their shared history with Brayden, or maybe theirs was just one of those friendships that was meant to be. Whatever the reason, Naomi knew she had a pretty good read on both Claire and Audrey despite their short acquaintance, and she knew that neither woman was doing quite as well as they wanted people to think.

Claire still had the same shadows under her eyes she’d had the day of the funeral, though she had decent skill with concealer and disguised the worst of it from a casual observer.

“So, when do you have to be packed?” Claire asked, looking around at the mess as though itching to help.

“Oh no,” Naomi said, popping the cork. “You’re not one of those neat freaks who actually like to clean, are you?”

“Clean? No. I’d skip scrubbing the toilets any day, but tidying up . . . I do like to organize things.” She rubbed her hands together.

“That’s disturbing,” Audrey said, coming back to Naomi and holding up two pairs of earrings, one a cluster of gray faux pearls, the other a dangling rose-gold flower charm. “Which?”

“Pearls,” Naomi said automatically, digging through a box where she was pretty sure she had some plastic cups.

“You didn’t even look.”

“I saw the second you picked them up.” Naomi found the cups and turned to face Audrey. “You’ve got big eyes, but the rest of your features are petite. The long earrings will overwhelm you.”

Audrey looked at the earrings, then shrugged and began to put in the pearls.

“What about Claire?” Audrey chirped. “She needs something new and pretty, too.”

Naomi glanced over at Claire as she poured the champagne. “Help yourself. I’ve got some new clutches and scarves around here if jewelry’s not your thing.”

“No, I’m good,” Claire said, absently fiddling with her watch. The Cartier watch Brayden had given her. The same one he’d given Naomi and Audrey. To Naomi’s thinking, that had been Brayden Hayes’s worst crime—thinking that the same watch could possibly be the right choice for three very different women.

Claire seemed to realize what she was doing and glanced down at the gold band and froze.

Naomi and Audrey exchanged a look.

“You’re still wearing it?” Naomi asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of her voice. She’d taken a hammer to hers. Wasteful? Yes. But necessary.

Claire was still looking at the watch, fiddling with the clasp once more. “I know. I know. It’s just . . .” She looked up. “He was my husband. And he’s gone. And . . .”

She pressed her hands to her lips and didn’t finish the sentence.

Naomi racked her brain for the right thing to say and came up with nothing. She was good at a lot of things. Comforting and reassuring words weren’t among them.

Luckily, Audrey was better at it. She took Claire’s hands in hers. “What can we do?”

Claire sighed, then looked up. “Pour me some of that champagne?”

Naomi smiled, relieved to be of use. “On it.”

She poured them three cups, then a fourth for Deena, who had reappeared at her desk and was barking into the phone. Naomi took a cup out to the main reception desk and handed it to her assistant, who gave her a grateful smile as she argued with who Naomi assumed were the movers on the phone.

Naomi went back into her office and noticed that though Claire was smiling at whatever Audrey was saying, her hand shook the slightest bit as she lifted the champagne to her lips.

Naomi’s gaze caught once again on the glint of gold at Claire’s left wrist.

That damn watch.

Inspiration struck. Naomi went to the cabinets that lined one side of her office. She’d had them custom built the same year she moved into the space and realized that conventional storage units weren’t conducive to the accessory business. Accessories, by nature, were small, and Naomi had needed dozens of tiny spaces to store products, not a couple of big spaces. As a result, the wall was nearly covered in itty-bitty drawers, each labeled with a number that corresponded to a spreadsheet cataloging the vendor, the item, and whether or not Naomi wanted it ordered for the monthly accessory boxes.