She rolled her eyes, checking her phone. “My Uber’s coming at seven. I have to do something about this hair.”
“It looks perfect to me,” I said.
She started rummaging through her closet while I gathered my clothes.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Meeting Evan for dinner at eight. I better head home.”
I walked over to her, tilting her chin up to kiss her. “I loved today.”
“Me too,” she said, her eyes soft.
“Come over after your girls’ night?” I asked.
“Isn’t that too much time together?” she teased.
“Not for me,” I said. “Pack a bag. I’ll take it with me, so you’ll have what you need.”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding, grabbing a small bag and tossing in a few things.
I kissed her one last time before heading out, knowing I’d spent the rest of the night thinking about her.
CHAPTER 17
ANOTHER ROUND
NATALIE
Iwas running late, frantically brushing on mascara, then scanning my jewelry box to find something that matched my outfit. My cream sweater dress clung perfectly, paired with tan booties and a YSL clutch. Meredith would’ve been proud, but I hadn’t even had time to check in with her for approval.
My mind wasn’t on my outfit, though, it was on Will.
The day we’d spent together had been blissful, like a stolen piece of heaven. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that carefree or loved. But as wonderful as it was, the weight of reality had already started creeping in.Could I keep doing this?Getting lost in him for a day, only to face the endless complications of his life—and mine?
I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. The clock was ticking, and my Uber had just pulled into the driveway.
The car door opened to Camille, already lounging in the back seat.
“Hello, love,” she said with a knowing grin. “You’re glowing!”
“Am I?” I asked, a little self-conscious.
“Absolutely. What have you been doing all day? Was it with that hot British lad?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Not exactly.”
Camille arched a brow. “Not exactly, huh? Spill it as soon as Lauren gets in.”
We pulled into Lauren’s driveway, and she emerged looking elegant. Her newly renovated house stood behind her like something out of Architectural Digest.
“Hi, ladies! You all look gorgeous!” Lauren said, sliding into the car.
“You too, darling,” Camille replied.
“I love your blouse,” I added, admiring her chic outfit.
“And the house—it looks absolutely beau-tiful,” Camille said, the word rolling off her tongue with that unmistakably French lilt.
