“Yes, I do know how it is with you. The love-’em-and-leave-’em type. Though I think having a man more or less permanently in your life might be good for you. Someone to be there for you, to remind you to eat . . .”

Sometimes having Carolina for a friend was like having another sister to watch over her. “Ha ha. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and don’t need a man to do that for me.”

“Oh, but having a man around can be advantageous. Someone to take out the trash, replace batteries in the smoke detectors, sex on demand . . .”

“Speaking of sex on demand, how is Drew?”

“Oh, he’s very good. At taking out the trash, of course.”

Stella laughed. “Of course.”

“I’m sure Trick is very good at taking out the trash as well.”

“I can’t say I’ve sampled his trash or battery replacing skills, but he’s fantastic in bed.” And just talking about sex revved her up when she should be trying to relax.

“So why are you here with me instead of with him?”

“Because I love you and haven’t seen you in a while. And because it’s not always about the men.”

“This is true.”

“So show me all your pretty clothes and what you’ve got going on, and tell me how crazy your life is right now so I won’t feel like it’s just me.”

“Okay,” Carolina said with a laugh, sliding off the barstool. “Let’s go look at clothes.”

Stella was amazed at Carolina’s eye for clothing, at how she could spot upcoming trends and create something that she instinctively knew people would want. Or at least everything that hit Stella’s hot buttons. Carolina had created lines for both men and women that were simple yet luxurious at the same time. As Carolina walked her through the sketches and some of her line that she’d already completed, Stella mentally ticked off items she wanted.

Mostly everything. And she could see Trick in so many of the men’s clothes as well.

“This line is fantastic, Carolina. I love everything. And those leather pants with the ankle zippers, especially paired up with that sequined sweater? Those belong in my closet—now.”

Carolina grinned. “Wait until you see the mohair ankle boots I’m putting the model in to walk with that outfit.”

“I hate you.”

“You won’t hate me when I send you the outfit—plus the boots—after the show.”

Stella threw her arms around Carolina and hugged her. “This is one of the many reasons why you’re my best friend. But not for the clothes. Really. Not for the clothes.”

Carolina laughed. “I know. Now, we need to get out of here. My brain is toast and I’m starving.”

“If you’re going to want to go out to eat, I need a shower.”

“Okay, we’ll stop at your place first.”

Carolina closed up her studio and they grabbed a taxi to Stella’s apartment, both of them complaining about how damn cold it was as they jumped in and out of the cab.

“Why is it so fucking cold already?” Stella asked.

“Because it’s New York?” Carolina replied.

“Good point.” Arm in arm, they hurried into the building. The wind was picking up. Stella could smell snow in the air. It was early December and she wasn’t ready for snow yet.

Just the quick dash in the cold made Stella long for that nice warm bath, but it was going to have to wait. She thought the glass of wine might slow her down, but it was amazing what hanging out with a friend could do for her energy level. She stripped out of her clothes and took a quick shower, then chose a pair of skintight leggings, her favorite pair of combat boots, a dark tank, and a sheer silver top, topping it off with a leather studded jacket. She complemented the look with several necklaces.

“I love how you can take five minutes to put one hell of a kickass outfit together,” Carolina said, studying her as she came out of her bedroom. “You should help me put clothes together for the show.”

Stella laughed. “You don’t need me. Your sense of fashion rocks. Look at you with your skinny jeans and those leather boots that, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d kill you to take off of you. And I covet that black trench coat with all those zippers. You know I’m a sucker for zippers.”

“I know. I designed this with you in mind. And you might be getting one for Christmas.”

“I do love Santa. And you. Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

“Not more than three or four times in the past hour.”