Page 67 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

A smile played on her lips, and she leaned closer. “In the plane last week, he was on the phone with his financial adviser. He was trying to be subtle, but I’d bet my retirement fund he was talking about exit strategies. I suspect when Bill retired, he got jealous.”

“No! Really? I thought they were going to have to carry him out of the CEO’s office feet-first.”

“Apparently, his wife wants to spend more time with him. Can you imagine? With that jerk?”

“Nuh-uh. Only nice guys from here on out.” Like magnets, my eyes fixed on Oliver, who was chatting with one of Savannah’s sons. He had a little frown line of concentration between his eyebrows, but when he caught me looking, he smiled.

“Mmm,” Bridget said. “I see how it is. He makes you happy.” It wasn’t a question.

“He does…for now.”

“For now? What’s that bullshit?”

“I don’t know. He’s wonderful and all: smart, kind, and amazing in bed. But it’s too good to be true. He’ll turn out to be a liar, like Harry.” Even as I said it, I knew Oliver would never mislead me the way Harry had done.

“Or he won’t.”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t let myself hope that Oliver and I would stay together forever. I knew literally no one who’d done it. Savannah had been with her college sweetheart for thirty years, and now Justine was helping her through a divorce. Believing in love wasn’t logical. Or safe.

Danny and Lucie appeared beside us. Danny balanced a tray of drinks in one hand. Deftly, he pulled one from the tray and handed it to me. “Celebratory cocktail?”

“What’s in it?” I asked.

“It’s basically a blackberry bramble. Muddled blackberries with lemonade and gin, plus sparkling water for fizz. It’s sweet and refreshing.”

Lucie grabbed two glasses from the tray and handed one to Bridget. She raised her glass. “To Tessa. May she host many more parties, and may she continue to have excellent sex.”

“Lucie.” Danny frowned at his girlfriend.

“Fine. Only as much excellent sex as she wants.”

She drank, and after lifting my glass to her, I did too. I was having fantastic sex, the clinical trials were showing strong results, and I was happy for the first time in years. After a childhood where my security could vanish the second Dad decided we’d stayed someplace too long, I knew how precarious happiness was. This time, I hoped if I was smart about it and anticipated the problems, I could keep it all.

Like Lucie and Danny. On the surface, they seemed dissimilar. She was ten years older with a college degree and professional success, while he was a young, handsome bartender who’d lived downstairs from her. They’d taken a risk when they’d accidentally gotten pregnant and in the end, it had worked out for them. They now ran a bar together, and they seemed incandescently happy, both together and apart. A perfect example of a couple who had succeeded against all odds.

Could I have that too?

“See?” Lucie leaned into Danny. To his credit, he kept the tray steady and didn’t spill a drop. “Told you she was getting the good D on the regs.”

“It’s true.” I stared at the pink drink. Was there truth serum in there? Who was I, to talk about my sex life in public when I’d vowed never again?

Danny kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to pass out these drinks. Tessa, do you have more glasses?”

“The ones I borrowed from Oliver are in the left cabinet in the island.” I’d considered renting glassware and plates, but Oliver had enough for me to borrow. He liked having guests at his place. I scanned the room, where all our friends lounged on my couches and stood in my kitchen. Maybe I did too.

Danny walked off, and Lucie said, “Come on. Let’s grab Carly, then we can take a pic together to commemorate the time you let us into your stronghold.”

I already knew Carly was talking with Oliver and Andrew. The awareness of him was new. When he entered a room, especially at work, my gaze went straight to him, and my stomach gave a not-unpleasant skip. Hormones were impressive chemicals. Maybe if I had a biology degree like Oliver, I’d better understand what was happening and react more rationally. But what would be the fun in that?

When we joined their group, he seemed to have a similar awareness of me. Without looking away from Carly, who was talking, he slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. My stomach flipped again, and I inhaled his Christmas-tree scent. Pheromones: another interesting organic chemical. I put my hand on his back and rubbed between his shoulder blades. His back vibrated, and if not for the noise of conversation, I think I would’ve heard him purr.

Carly was laughing about something that had happened at one of Andrew’s mother’s famous brunches. They were notoriously high in drama since all four of her children were less tractable than she’d have liked. Andrew’s stubborn independence particularly irked her, especially after he’d gotten engaged to her frenemy.

“…Andrew was about to go nuclear. I mean, she called me ‘vintage,’ can you believe it? Then Audrey tried to backpedal and said I was aging like fine wine.”

Andrew mimed digging a hole with a shovel.

“I told her it was better than aging like milk. Brunch ended pretty quickly after that.”

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