The Worst Best Man(71)

Frankie took a bite out of one of the breadsticks the waitress delivered. “I’m your snotty poor friend, and I love carbs. I thought your stupid diet was over the minute the dress came off?”

“I’m on a new diet called fat blast the honeymoon weight.”

Frankie shoved the breadstick in Pru’s face and waved it from side to side. “Eat me. Eat meeeee…”

“God, I miss you,” Pru sighed, snatching the breadstick out of her hand and taking a tiny nibble out of it.

“You rebel, you,” Frankie teased. “I miss you, too.”

“So, tell me about Valentine’s Day. What did Aiden the perpetual bachelor do for you?”

“Well, he tried to surprise me with a long weekend in San Francisco. He had to go for business, but I couldn’t get away. So he ended up bringing over take out when he got back, and he got me a bracelet.”

A very nice bracelet. One that was too nice to actually wear. But she did open the swanky case and stare at the diamonds every night.

“Jewelry already? Margeaux would be impressed and dying of jealousy. What did you do for him?”

“I got him a Knicks hat.”

Pru sat waiting expectantly. “And?”

Frankie shrugged. “And that’s it. Well, I did flash him from the fire escape when he got to my place.”

Pru looked like she smelled something funny. It was her concentrating face that Frankie recognized from a few years of finals weeks.

“What?”

Pru shook her head, her honey blonde hair never moving from its sleek knot at the base of her neck. “Nothing. Hey, let’s do dinner tonight! The four of us! We can go to The Oak Leaf.”

Frankie wrinkled her nose. “Eh. Doesn’t Page Six camp out there?”

Pru rolled her eyes. “Who cares? Their crab puffs are to die for, and I miss you, and I want to see you and Aiden together so I can give you my official seal of approval. I’m texting Chip right now.”

“I don’t know what Aiden’s doing tonight,” Frankie began to argue.

“So text him. Find out,” Pru said without looking up. “It’s Friday night. You’re already here. You can stay at Aiden’s.”

“I’ve actually never been there,” Frankie said, taking a bigger bite of breadstick. It lodged in her throat.

Pru dropped her phone on the table with a clatter. “I’m sorry, what? You’ve been dating him for almost six weeks, and you haven’t seen his place yet? Is he just taking you to hotels like some skank?”

A few of the closer diners shot glances their way.

“I’m not a skank,” Frankie promised them. “She’s just running lines for a play.” Everyone went back to their meals. “Can you try to keep it down, please?”

“I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you to his place. I really thought this was different. Chip said he’s never seen Aiden so—”

“Relax, Cujo. He’s invited me plenty of times.”

“And?” Pru looked at her like she was talking to an idiot.

“And I live in Brooklyn. By the time I get over here and we do our thing, I’d have to spend the night or go straight to work. Take the train…” She trailed off, feeling a sliver of something uncomfortable.

“I see. So, when do you see each other?” Pru asked.

Frankie shifted uncomfortably. “When he comes to Brooklyn.”

“And how often is that?”

“Three or four nights a week,” she said. Five times last week.

“I see,” Pru said primly. “And what kind of events have you gone to with him? Any fundraisers? Galas? The theater?”

Frankie shook her head to each one.

“Have you met his family?” Pru asked.

“Uh, no. He wanted me too, but the timing wasn’t right. He did meet mine.”

Pru brightened considerably. “Really? How did it go?”

“Well, I mainly did it to piss my mom off. Like ‘Hey, Ma, here’s this gorgeous guy I’m seeing. But guess what, we’re just fooling around. No future here. Burn.’” Frankie laughed nervously but quit when Pru didn’t join her.

Pru pinched the bridge of her nose. “Frankie, I’m going to say this with love because I do love you, and I want you to be happy. But you have got to quit the Frosty the Bitch Queen routine before you ruin something amazing.”

“Excuse me?”

The waitress reappeared with their meals. “I’ll just leave you two to it then,” she said when the silence at the table grew awkward.

“Frosty the Bitch Queen?” Frankie repeated.

“Don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You are freezing Aiden out. Why in God’s name, I have no freaking clue. But you’re trying to sabotage this thing. Do you want to be right that badly?”

Frankie’s jaw was on the table.

“And while I’m talking and you’re listening, Aiden inviting you to his home, to meet his parents, to go to San Fran? He’s trying to share his life with you, jackass. And you’re basically kicking sand in his face.”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“Bullshit.” Pru stabbed her salad with such violence Frankie thought she saw the kale shrivel. “I get that you’re protecting yourself, but you don’t need to hurt him to stay safe.”