‘Well, then, you should be grateful for my forceful nature. You’re going to have the best stories to tell. Assuming you live to tell them.’
I’d run out of snacks to throw. ‘Remind me why we’re friends again?’
‘Because everyone needs a cute, high-achieving blonde in their lives. Keeps you striving.’
All right, so perhaps Lara had a point there.
‘It saysknow your heartunderneath,’ I said, flashing my palm at her. ‘And every time the boys are around, it zaps me.’
Lara grinned diabolically. ‘Maybe it’s a chastity ring.’
‘Oh, shut up.’
If it were one of those, I definitely wouldn’t have had the dreams I’d had last night.
Lara caught my flush and gave me a look.
Leaning over, she grabbed my hand. She swiped a pair of reading glasses from atop Rosie’s Agatha Christie novel, holding the lenses up close to the ring.
‘Well, it’s definitely a ring,’ she said, prodding it with a pointed nail.
‘Wow, thank you, Poirot.’
With a laugh, Lara crooked her finger and held it under her nose like a moustache. ‘Oui, oui, je suis… whatever very smart French detectives say.’
‘Belgian,’ said Noah idly. He’d come in to top up the water bottle he always sipped from while he was painting – apparently the water from the sink in the studio tasted strange. Maybe the headaches were a dehydration thing. ‘Poirot’s a French-speaking Belgian.’
Lara waggled her finger moustache. ‘Just because Imoustacheyou a question does not mean I need the answer to be mansplained to me.’
‘You’ve just forfeited any right to a portrait.’ Noah shook his head as he ran the faucet. ‘So, why are we role-playing Poirot?’
‘We’re trying to figure out the provenance of Molly’s ring,’ said Lara. ‘In case it’s worth pawning for pizza money.’
Noah screwed the lid back on his water bottle. ‘Any leads?’
The way his dark eyes met mine made me squirm. When had he become so handsome? Both of the Tucker boys had always been gorgeous, as Lara had always been so happy to point out – she spent about half of our Summerweens discussing their looks at length – but Noah had a new gravitas to the way he carried himself that intrigued me. Intrigued me so much it had kept me up last night, in fact.
But that gravitas is because his dad has just died, Molly, I reminded myself. Ugh, I was awful. What next? Swooning over the new furrow between his brows that made him look particularly thoughtful and erudite? Coming apart at the seams over the way his hair had grown out just a little too much and now had a slight curl over his ears and above his collar? Ah yes, the sexy dishevelment of grief. Definitely not a sign that I was a terrible human being.
My ring crackled on my finger. I made a fist, trying to hide it.
‘Sorry?’ I said, realizing that Noah was looking at me. He probably expected an answer to something, but unless the question was, ‘Do I look hot right now?’ I was absolutely going to draw a blank.
‘I was asking whether you had any leads on the ring,’ he repeated, amused. ‘Maybe another coffee will help you prevail against whatever’s haunting you after last night.’
‘The spirit of too much tequila,’ supplied Lara.
‘We can’t all have your tolerance,’ I said with a sigh. ‘Not all of us work in PR.’
‘But you could.’ Lara pulled a vodka seltzer from the fridge and popped it open. Wow, my espresso had been bad enough to drive her to drink. ‘Scarletta’s looking for a managing copywriter for her team. You could even nudge her up to assistant creative director if you really put the screws to her.’
‘But I have a job,’ I said, confused.
‘Wow, do you?’ Lara widened her eyes in faux surprise. ‘Because you definitely never talk about your deadlines or spending your weekends at pickleball matches or how many doughnuts Eddie has fed you throughout the week.’
‘I thought you liked my doughnut tallies,’ I protested, pretending to be hurt.
‘Iknowyou have a job, silly. I’m just saying you could have a better one if you want it. More money, moreme. What’s not to love?’
