Maybe Later(17)

“Oh, you’re busy feeding the infant,” I say with disdain because it pisses her off that I’m not talking with a small voice and making parties for the baby.

Why would I? I can’t hold her, she can barely listen to me since she’s never around and we haven’t been introduced. Evidently, the day we meet in person she’s going to become my favorite niece. I just won’t say that to Laura. I enjoy pissing her off.

“Simone, her name is Simone,” she corrects me.

“One day, I’ll get used to calling her Simone. How is she doing?”

“Let me see, she cries every two hours, demands food, and craps like an adult.” Laura kisses her forehead. “She’s doing fine. She hasn’t done anything extraordinary yet, but I can’t imagine my life without her.”

I scrunch my face. “You’re talking like a true mother. One day you’re going to dump me for one of those women who take their children to play dates and know how to make giraffes out of toilet paper rolls and glue.”

“How’s work?” she asks, rolling her eyes and ignoring me.

“The usual, my clients demand food, complain every two hours, I’m sure they crap like adults. It’s like having multiple babies, but not a single one of them is cute.”

“None of them?”

“Well, Fitz could be Chris Evan’s doppelg?nger—but he’s not into women. The other three I have on the roster are pretty ugly if you ask me and J. Spearman—aka Jackson Spearman—doesn’t have a picture online, and I am not allowed to search for any information, or he’ll sue me.”

She gives me an incredulous glare. “I take that you didn’t cyberstalk him.”

I grin. “I tried, there’s not one picture of the guy.”

“Of course you stalked him. That’s in your nature, you’re a true rebel who never gives up a quest.”

I groan, pinching a few leaves of spinach and fighting with the strawberries. “Yeah, I almost fired him as my client,” I say before taking a spoonful of salad.

“Uh-uh, what did he do?”

“He’s one of those men who thinks he can spread his anger around the world.”

She nods as if understanding. Laura and I go way back. She was my roommate from freshman year and even when I changed schools in college, we lived together until I decided to move out of Boston.

“What’s for lunch today?” she eyes my bowl.

“A ‘salad,’” I answer dismissively.

“Without lettuce?” She snorts. “That’s not a salad. Does it have any greens?”

“Do artichokes count as lettuce?” I stab some of them along with roasted red pepper and carrots.”

“Nope, you’re just mixing stuff in a bowl.”

“It’s a rainbow of veggies, ahi tuna, and wonton sticks.”

“Dressing?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Sesame dressing, and lots of it.” I grab my ramune and take a few sips.

“You were born in the wrong country,” she declares, giving me an eye roll. “Have you looked into moving to Japan, yet?”

“I’m happy here. What else can you tell me about yourself? Husband?”

“He’s pretending that he’s working while he’s playing Player Unknown, or maybe it is Fortnite. I can’t keep up with his vices,” she says with a huffy grin.

“I’ll send him some work,” I say loudly, hoping he can hear me.

“Anthem,” I hear Alistair protest. “If you two are going to talk shit about me, get your facts straight.”

“Tell him I have some work for him,” I insist. “To get his butt in gear.”

“Erasing your love letters to J. Spearman?” he asks loudly.

“Have you been spying on me?” I protest when he comes to the screen, kissing the top of Laura’s head and then the baby.

“No, I have better things to do, but while I was updating the chat app, I happened to catch some of the action. Things are heating up,” he says mockingly.

Alistair has been my best friend since elementary school. We’re as close to brother and sister but cooler. I even introduced him to the love of his life.

I glare at the screen, complaining, “Your husband is an idiot.”

“You two put me in a tight spot,” she says. “Since I want to go out with him tonight and have crazy hot sex later. So, I have to be nice to him. But I don’t want to lie to you.”

“I’m right here, ladies,” he protests and bends down. “Do you want me to take her, babe?”

Once Alistair and Simone are out of sight, I ask, “You’re finally going out?”

“Yeah, his mom is coming to take care of Simone for the evening,” she says.

“We should celebrate,” I say.

“Come over, and we can go out—my geek can babysit—and you can finally meet Simone in person.”

“Boston is too far away,” I say, letting out a nostalgic sigh.

“How are things with you?” she inquires.

“Same old same old.” I give her a slight shrug, rising from the floor. “Give me a second, let me get dessert.”

I grab a piece of the chocolate Bundt cake I prepared yesterday and top it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and some whipped cream. Laura stares at my plate, her mouth slightly open.