“Nothing.”
George turned to see what Freddie had been looking at.
“Your sister’s here,” he said.
“I know.”
George considered. “The pink isn’tthatbad.”
Freddie was about to tell him to shut up when Sophie burst through the crowd with Anne in tow.
“Freddie! Why didn’t you tell me you invited Anne?!” she exclaimed.
Freddie opened his mouth to speak, not even sure what the hell he was going to say, but just like that day when he picked up his keys, Anne had an answer ready first.
“He didn’t,” she said, a painfully forced smile on her face. “I just live downstairs.”
Sophie’s eyes grew wide. “In thebuilding?”
Anne nodded, then stole a quick look at Freddie. “Hi, Freddie.”
“Hi,” he said. His tone was even and clipped.
“I can’t believe I didn’t know this,” Sophie said, turning her shocked expression to her brother. “Did you know this?”
“We ran into each other a couple of weeks ago downstairs,” he replied, then took another sip of his drink.
“Shut. Up.” Sophie’s mouth hung open. “That is nuts!”
“What’s nuts?” George asked, his brow furrowed.
“These two dated in college and hadn’t seen each other in eight years and now they live in the same building!” Sophie replied so loudly that a few people standing nearby turned.
George paused, then his eyebrows did a slight bob, like he had just connected two salacious dots.
Freddie shot him a look that he hoped communicated a demand for his friend to keep his mouth shut.
“It’s purely a coincidence,” Anne added, waving a hand betweenthem as if batting away whatever cobwebs were left there. For a brief moment, her eyes darted around the room again at the walls now a clean eggshell white, over the black-and-white photographs that had replaced the modern art. Was she critiquing what he had done to her old home? Silently judging how thoroughly she had been erased?
If she was, she didn’t say anything, and Freddie was almost ashamed by the relief that shot through his system. The last thing he needed was his sister learning that his apartment had been Anne’s.
“It’s fate! It’s kismet!” Sophie exclaimed with a flourish of her hand.
“No, it’s the New York real estate market,” Freddie murmured.
His sister shot him a sharp glare, then turned back to Anne.
“What have you been up to? Where are you working? You went to business school, right?” Sophie asked, the words coming out in such quick succession that Anne looked almost panicked. “No wonder you can afford this building, it’s gorgeous! Are you working downtown at some investment bank or—”
“Pace yourself, Sophie,” Freddie interrupted. “You just walked in the door.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to be excited to see someone after eight years.”
Freddie frowned and glanced over at George. His friend was watching the scene with mild amusement.
Sophie turned to Anne again. “Ignore him. Ever since he sold his company, he thinks he’s God’s gift to business. He traded in his cargo shorts and hoodie for a closet full of designer suits.”
“I don’t think anyone misses the cargo shorts,” Freddie said, throwing her a sardonic glare.
