Page 26 of Count Your Lucky Stars
“You know, you, too, could have a girlfriend who gives you orgasms whenever you want, if you’d ever actually—”
“No.” Margot held up a hand. “Thanks.”
Margot liked her life the way it was.Exactlythe way it was. Uncomplicated. She had her friends, her business with Elle was solid, and if she needed to scratch an itch she could either do it herself or find someone to do it for her, no strings attached. Nothing needed to change.
“Okay. Backing off.” Elle frowned. “Do you really not want to help with the wedding favors? Because the four of us could probably get together another time if you’d rather skip it.”
Margot puffed out her cheeks, shoulders slumping. No, shedidn’t want that, to be left out. “No, of course I want to help. You know me. I just have to bitch about it first. Get it out of my system, you know? I promise I will be nothing but sunshine and rainbows when Brendon and Annie get here.”
“No oneexpects that of you, Margot.” Elle stuck out a socked foot—they were toe socks, fuzzy and bright blue—and nudged Margot’s leg. “We like you exactly as you are.”
“Brazen and bitchy?” Margot chuckled under her breath, only halfway joking.
Elle smiled. “Bold and no bullshit.”
Margot ducked her chin. “Shucks, Elle. You’re going to make me blush.”
Someone knocked on the front door.
“Come in!” Elle shouted.
Annie stepped into the living room, Brendon close behind, each carrying a small pallet containing easily four dozen succulents.
“Hey.” Annie beamed. “Can I set these down somewhere?”
As if summoned by the mere idea of dirt winding up on her carpets, Darcy appeared. “There’s a tarp under the coffee table.”
Elle snagged it and shook it out, laying it flat atop the floor so Annie and Brendon could set the plants down.
After making two more trips out to the car to retrieve yetmoresucculents, Brendon clapped his hands together and, with a zeal that Margot usually reserved for happy hour and BOGO shoe sales, said, “Let’s get this party started.”
***
Tongue poking out from between his lips, Brendon finished tying off a twine bow with a quiet littlehaof delight. He wiped his hands on his knees and reached across the table, making a grab for Margot’s Reese’s Pieces.
She smacked his hand aside. “Excuse you.”
Brendon laughed. “You’re so weird about sharing food.”
“You try growing up with two brothers and talk to me about sharing food.” Margot popped a Reese’s Piece in her mouth. “I swear if it wasn’t glued down, they’d tried to eat it. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.” She grinned. “Every man for himself.”
Elle snickered. “There’s more in the kitchen, Brendon.”
Brendon stood and saluted Elle before disappearing around the corner.
“So, Margot,” Annie said. “How’s the roommate situation working out? You and Olivia getting along?”
Did an immense amount of—what she was pretty sure was mutual—sexual tension count asgetting along?
Work seemed to keep Olivia busy. Whether that was a regular thing for her or Brendon and Annie’s last-minute wedding required overtime, Margot wasn’t sure. Either way, Olivia had been out of the apartment all day yesterday, coming home after Margot had already crawled into bed. Margot had only seen her briefly this morning. Olivia had smiled sleepily, dashing out the door with a travel mug of coffee in hand, offering a softhave a nice dayover her shoulder.
Margot had wandered into the kitchen for her own cup of coffee, drawing up short at the sight of a smiley face scribbled on the refrigerator whiteboard and fresh flowers in a vase—anactual one made of glass, not the plastic pitcher that pulled double duty on the rare occasions Margot got flowers—on the breakfast bar.
It was taking a little time for her to get used to coming out of her bedroom to find Olivia curled up on the couch, Cat purring away innocently from the windowsill, but it wasn’tbad. A little stiff and stilted still, but getting better. Margot actually liked it.
“She hasn’t stolen my credit card, let her ant farm loose, or gone on a hallucinogenic bender and peed in my closet, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Margot fixed the bow on her last globe. No matter what she did, it came out crooked, hanging sad and lopsided, nothing at all like Darcy’s impeccable bows, with their pristine symmetrical loops. Oh well. Done was better than perfect. “Her cat did try to kill my vibrator, though. So that was fun.”
Silence followed for a beat, two beats—
