What Lovers Do(40)

“Good. Yours?” I scroll through today’s schedule on my computer.

“Fine. Did you uh … hear back from your doctor? Is everything okay?”

I glance up, eyes narrowed.

“The bleeding,” she says in a hushed voice.

“Oh. That. Yeah. Fibroid. No big deal. Thanks for your concern, though.”

“That’s good. Your first patient is here.”

“Thanks.” I close my eyes and exhale when she leaves my office. My life is an epic disaster at the moment. Ten balls in the air and I don’t know how to juggle.

Midmorning, Nora catches me just before I go into the exam room. “Flowers at the front desk for you. They’re stunning.” She waggles her eyebrows.

I frown. Fucking Jimmy. I’m sure I paid for them. I didn’t check my purse before leaving for work. Ten bucks says I’m missing a credit card. After the exam, I return to my office where Nora has set the bouquet on my desk. Snatching the card, I pull it from the envelope. What could he possibly say to justify this?

Hey, Sophie!

Hope you’re having a great start to your week. So glad we’re friends.

Jules xo

For some irrational reason, I get tears in my eyes. Jules has sent me flowers before, but only for special occasions like a birthday. Now I feel extra guilty for thinking that Shep could ever be my best friend no matter how well-honed his orgasm-giving skills happen to be. Maybe she feels bad about what happened on the phone. Maybe she feels that she did unfairly judge me and not trust me when I said that Shep is just a friend. And the fact that I had sex with him is making me feel a billion times more guilty in the presence of the wildflower bouquet dotted with the purple-pinkish echinacea. It’s symbolic of strength and healing. It’s definitely an apology.

Grinning, I call Jules and bend over to smell the flowers.

“Hey. Calling to spill all the details from your ‘friendly’ golf weekend?” she asks as soon as she answers my call.

“Funny. No. Wait … is that what this is? Is this a bribe? Here I thought you were being crazy generous. Overly generous. Apologetic. A truce of sorts after our short conversation on the phone. But now I’m a little suspicious of your motive.”

“What are you talking about? Bribe? My motive?”

“The flowers. I got them. They’re beautiful. And way too much. Now I feel like a terrible friend. I should have been the one sending you flowers for lying to you or … misleading you.”

“Is this pregnancy brain already? It’s a little early for pregnancy brain.”

“What do you mean?” I chuckle.

“Sophie, I didn’t send you flowers.”

“Um … yeah you did. Your name is on the card.”

“Maybe Jimmy sent them.”

“No. It says Hope you’re having a great start to your week. So glad we’re fri—”

Friends.

“Gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Let me know when you figure out who sent you flowers and gave me credit for them. Tell them thank you. And we need to talk—”

“Sure.” I press End. I won’t be thanking anyone. I call Shep, feeling all sorts of anger.

“Miss me already?”

“You cannot send me flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Don’t. I know it was you. And they are too much. Friends don’t send each other flowers for no reason. It’s not my birthday. I didn’t receive a job promotion. And nobody in my family died. And we don’t exist.”

“Your mom’s cat died.”

I scoff. “You sent me flowers because my mom’s cat died?”

“No. I sent you flowers because I wanted you to feel as good as I do today.”

“Shep, we are friends. You have no idea what it means to be friends. You cross all the lines and—”

“Were you pissed off at Jules? When you thought they were from her … because I assume you called her first. Were you mad?”

“I …” I clench my teeth and roll my eyes. “That’s not the point.”

“That’s the only point. It can’t be okay for Jules to send you flowers, but not okay for me to send you flowers.”

I close the door to my office. “I’m not having sex with Jules. So don’t lecture me on friendship etiquette.”

“Well, Jules should address that if she feels it’s unfair that I get to have sex with you and she doesn’t.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I bite my lips to keep from grinning. Not that he can see me. Still, I swear he’d detect the grin on my face from the sound of my voice. “Got. You got to have sex with me. Once. It was a one and done. And for the record, I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Jules sending me flowers for no particular reason. When I thought it was her, I called to tell her it was too much.”

“And thanked her,” he says.

“No.”

“Yes. I’m not stupid, Sophie. Even if you thought it was too much, which I’m sure you would or did say to her, there’s no way you would have been mad. There’s no way you wouldn’t have said thank you. So just tell me they’re too much, then insert the big ‘but’ and finish your long speech with a ‘Thank you, Shep. It’s too much, but so sweet, and you’ve brightened my Tuesday.’”