Naomi spotted her first and waved her over.
“Tell me you’re ordering carbs,” Naomi said as Bea slid into the booth, dropping her oversized tote onto the seat. “Because I’m about to eat like I wasn’t just on a boat for ten days.”
“My circadian rhythm is fried,” Isabel muttered, peeling off her sunglasses.
Bea grinned. “You two look like you swam here.”
“We basically did,” Naomi said. “Charles rented this yacht—obscene, obviously—and then we island-hopped with his family for the entire last stretch.”
Lillian glanced over her menu. “What about you two? Bali, right?”
“Yeah,” Isabel said, lips twitching. “Mason said we were going off-grid. Which apparently means a villa with six staff and a private driver.”
Bea snorted. “That’s his version of roughing it?”
Naomi snagged a breadstick. “Please. Isabel doesn’troughanything. Mason was just being smart.”
“How was Canada?” Isabel asked, smirking.
“It was…good,” Bea replied. “For the time I was there.”
Naomi tilted her head. “I don’t know if I ever mentioned this, but Charles told me after the bonfire night, verbatim: ‘There’s no way King lets her go back for ten weeks without him.’”
Isabel sipped her drink. “Mason said the same. But with expletives.”
Bea coughed. “Yeah, he did kind of hate it.”
“Even if you came back, you still went.” Lillian glanced up. “That counts for something.”
“Looks like you took my advice about intermittent reward.” Isabel smirked. “Our Bey might be the cleverest of us all when it comes to men.”
Naomi made a sound that was half impressed, half conspiratory. “Youdidmake Gage King follow you all the way to Toronto.”
“She made the most of it,” Lillian supplied. “She learned to cook for him.”
“And I missed it. I’m still mad,” Naomi pouted.
“Next girls’ night. I want proof Bea can cook,” Isabel said. “Even if it was for Gage.”
“It wasn’tjustfor him,” Bea mumbled.
It was. It totally was.
Lillian smiled gently. “It tasted great. Even Georgie said so.”
“Whereisour resident diva?”
“With Hunter.” Isabel peeked at her phone. “She’s on her way.”
A waiter appeared, depositing sparkling waters with lime and handwritten menus. The girls quieted just long enough to order before the teasing resumed.
A ripple of perfume and designer energy swept into the atrium.
Naomi raised her glass. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”
“I had to,” Georgina said, gliding into her spot. “It’s the first lunch of the year. Also, I need someone to tell me I’m not peeling.”
“You’re not,” Isabel said flatly. “Yet.”
