The Dirty Book Club(19)

“I brokered the deal on your cottage,” Britt told Dan. “Maybe you don’t recognize me. I cut bangs.” She scissored her fingers for emphasis.

“I know who you are,” he said. “It’s the Dr. Hartwell part that threw me. You’ve always called me Dan.”

Britt flicked her hair toward the two women behind her and with a subtle hitch of her thumb whispered, “Single girls like single doctors. Work with me here.”

“Not single!” M.J. blurted, having no time for pronouns.

“This is M.J.,” he said, steering her into the conversation. “My girlfriend. You were actually introduced a few weeks ago over Skype.”

The dimple just below Britt’s bottom lip deepened and softened, deepened and softened while she strained to remember. Then her whiskey-brown eyes widened. “Ah, yes.”

“I’m from New York,” M.J. explained, in lieu of an apology. “I didn’t realize it was normal to dress like that until I moved here. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“Dress like what?” Britt asked, forehead crinkled, thirsty for Botox.

“You know . . .”

“I don’t.”

“The whole activewear thing. New Yorkers wear that stuff to the gym, but then they change. I like it, though,” M.J. tried. “I mean, if anyone can pull it off—”

Dan cleared his already clear throat.

“Well, I’m from New York, too,” Britt said. “And I always wore activewear. Tons of people did.”

“You’re from New York?” M.J. asked, willing to forget all about the woman’s Just Do It approach to style. Finally, someone who understood her longing for food delivery and people who don’t check CAUCASIAN on a census. “Which part?”

“Brooklyn.”

“Where? Prospect Heights, Park Slope?”

“Flatbush.”

M.J. giggled. “My old friend Katie used to call her pubic hair Flatbush when she took off a pair of tights: ‘Next Stop, Flatbush Avenue,’ she’d say, just like the announcer on the five train.”

“So, Britt,” Dan interjected. “How do you know Leo?”

“My husband did the Goldens’ landscaping for years.”

M.J. cut a look to the tangle of vines outside the glass walls.

“It’s been a while,” Britt said. “Paul has been so busy. Anyway, he’s around here somewhere, I’d love to introduce you—”

“There she is!” A blond, swizzle stick of a woman approached Britt; arms splayed, professionally whitened teeth bared. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” she bellowed. “And this summer I am not taking no for an answer. You are joining the Downtown Beach Club. Trust me, your kids will ab-so-lutely love it.”

“My kids are going to sleepover camp.”

“Well, then you and Paul.”

Britt looked past the woman’s shoulder and into the kitchen, where a shaggy-haired man was eating chicken nuggets off his twelve-year-old daughter’s plate. “Maybe.”

“Promise you’ll think about it, m’kay? The rooftop bar has been totally renovated, the library has been converted into a hot-yoga studio, and need I remind you, no tourists.”

Dan lovingly smoothed the back of M.J.’s hair. “Maybe you could join.”

“Me?”

“It sounds like a great way to meet people.”

“Not if you like tourists,” M.J. said.

Dan laughed.

The woman evaluated M.J.’s black slip dress with a quick flick of her eyes. “Are you a local?”

“She is,” Dan boasted.

“Why don’t I know you?”

“I just moved here,” said M.J.

“From New York,” Britt added, with an air of Look at what the hoity-toity cat dragged in.

“How fortuitous,” the other woman said. “The DBC is having a new-recruits luncheon next week. I could drop off an invitation if you’re interested.”

“That would be great,” Dan said, before M.J. could stop him. “We live right next door.”

“Easy enough,” she tittered. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’ve been so thrown by this whole Leo thing I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Kelsey Pincer-Golden, Michael’s wife.”

“You gave Gloria that garden gnome, right?” M.J. asked.

Kelsey raised her right hand. “Guilty! I mean how darn jolly is that little guy?”

“Incredibly darn jolly,” M.J. said, thinking of the gray ash smudges that pocked his dwarf head like bullet holes. “She loves it.”

“Phew.” Kelsey dragged a hand across her wide forehead, wiping away sweat that wasn’t there. “Because I just ordered another one. You know, to keep Gloria from getting lonely.”

M.J. twisted the gold wedding bands on her thumb. “I’m sure that will help.”

“Right?” Kelsey mouthed, then turned her attention to the buffet table. “Beach season is coming, ladies! I better get some food in me before I lose my curves.” She lifted a plate from the bottom of the stack and surveyed her options.

“Try my bread,” M.J. said, hoping to placate Dan with her attempt to socialize.