Follow Me(69)

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I mumbled, “I take pride in my work.”

“I meant it as a compliment,” he said gently, chucking me lightly on the shoulder. Then he paused, eyes trained somewhere behind me. “I didn’t realize Audrey was coming. Who’s that with her? That friend of yours?”

I turned and saw Audrey stepping onto the deck. She was wearing a short floral dress and a too-large men’s fleece jacket, and she was hand in hand with Max Metcalf. It suddenly felt as if the champagne were burning a hole in my stomach. Why had she brought Max here? It was bad enough Audrey was spending time with him, but she had to introduce him to all my friends? To Connor? One offhand mention of camp and everything could fall apart. If Connor learned about Emily Snow, what might he do with that information? I could certainly say goodbye to any chance of a romantic relationship with him. And what about work? We were friends, yes, but we were also competitors. Only one of us would get to argue during the Phillips trial, and down the road, we would be vying for partnership at the same time. Connor might seem affable, but no one went to a top-ten law school and worked at a Vault 50 firm without being at least a little cutthroat.

I forced myself to breathe. I was getting ahead of myself. Emily Snow would not come up. Camp Blackwood would not come up. Why would it? There was no reason for anyone to even be talking about me, not with Audrey right there.

? ? ?

QUICKLY I REALIZED my earlier concern about Audrey feeling alone at the party was unfounded. I watched from across the rooftop as she flitted around with a flute of champagne in hand and Max in tow, chatting with complete strangers as though they were intimate friends. I’d always envied her ability to do that.

If I was honest, a small part of me also envied the way Max was looking at her as though she was the most beautiful creature to ever walk on two legs. No one had ever looked at me like that, whereas almost every man who came into contact with Audrey was immediately smitten. Even Nick, who usually seemed so cool and detached, lost his mind over Audrey. I’d never forget the night sophomore year I awoke to hear someone jiggling our door handle. Audrey had still been out, trawling the bars with Jasmine, when I’d gone to bed, and I assumed she’d forgotten her key. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I was crossing the room to the door when I heard a high-pitched keening noise on the other side.

I froze. The noise sounded more animal than human.

“Audrey?” I tried.

The handle rattled again, and with my heart in my throat, I cautiously opened the door. The shadowy figure of a broad-shouldered man loomed in the darkened hallway, and I screamed and jumped back.

“Audrey?” the man said hopefully, his voice thin and his breath smelling like beer, as he lurched forward toward me.

Panicked, I put up my hands to ward him off. “No!”

“But . . .” he said, staggering backward, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands.

That was when I recognized the shadowy figure as Nick, whom Audrey had been casually seeing for only a couple of weeks, and also when I realized that he was crying. I shuddered as I realized he had been the one making that inhuman noise.

“You can’t be here,” I said, trying to keep the alarm from my voice. “Men aren’t allowed upstairs after seven p.m.”

“I know,” he moaned. “But she’s not taking my calls. Where is she?”

I hesitated, worried about his reaction if I told him Audrey wasn’t there. Before I could come up with a plausible lie, the hallway was suddenly drenched in light and our house mom, Nancy, was pointing a sharp pink fingernail at Nick.

“You,” she growled. “Out. Now.”

Nick blinked in the light, his eyes red-rimmed and bright with tears. He opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to notice Nancy’s expression and shuffled away. Audrey had laughed when I’d recounted the story to her, and Nick had never once hinted that he remembered the incident, but I had never been able to forget the image of Nick crying outside our room like some third-rate Romeo.

I wonder what Nick thinks about Max.

? ? ?

“HEY,” AUDREY SAID breezily, dropping onto a cushion beside me as I sat around a fire pit with Connor, Priya, and some of Priya’s work friends. She sat so close to me that she was practically on my lap, forcing me to brush strands of her hair from my eyes and scoot away, and then she glanced up at Max and patted the sliver of cushion beside her. “Come on, sit down.”

As Max awkwardly lowered himself onto the precarious seat, Audrey turned to the rest of us and, completely oblivious that she was interrupting our conversation about our predictions for the upcoming Supreme Court term, said, “Have you all met my boyfriend Max?”

Boyfriend? I felt my cheeks grow hot. Since when was Audrey calling Max her boyfriend? And why hadn’t she told me first? We were best friends. Or we were supposed to be.

“Hi,” Max said, waving self-consciously.

“Nice to meet—” Priya began.

“So,” Audrey said, cutting Priya off as she leaned forward. “Do you guys want to hear a scary story?”

“Baby,” Max said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

I almost felt bad for him. He would learn soon enough that there was no stopping Audrey once she got going, and even if there was, a soft “baby” wasn’t going to do it. Baby. As if Audrey Miller stood for anyone calling her “baby.” I gave Max another week, at most.