Adrian took her time selecting the perfect plump blackberry. “Things are going fine.”

“Very vague.” Maya nodded toward Teesha. “Don’t you find that response very vague?”

“A sad and selfish lack of details, when we sit here, women with sex lives squeezed in between active kids, breastfeedings, floor walking, businesses running, diaper changings.”

“Question answering, toy repairing, tear drying,” Maya continued. “When’s the last time you had the energy or opportunity for uninterrupted sex, foreplay included, with an encore?”

“An encore? Oh my, my.” Leaning back, Teesha cast her eyes to the sky. “I believe that was back when the grandmas took Phineas for a long weekend to Hersheypark. And that’s how we got Thaddeus. Pretty sure it was the encore.”

“Mom kept both kids overnight a couple weeks back, even though our girl still wants the breast or bottle about two in the morning. Joe and I managed round one, then we both slept like the dead for ten hours. We have to give that another shot.”

Now she smiled at Adrian. “Your turn.” Then she pointed when Adrian shook her head. “Not fair. When Joe and I started dating, you got flooded with details.”

“Same with me and Monroe.”

“Neither one of them is my brother,” Adrian pointed out, and ate a grape. “Talking about having sex with my friend’s brother to my friend shoots beyond awkward and straight into weird.”

“He’s not my brother.” Teesha gestured with her glass with one hand, sliced some cheese with the other. “Maya can take a walk, you tell me, then I’ll tell her later.”

“How about if I say, as Raylan has two children older than yours, there’s hope for both of you in this intimate area.”

“Still vague,” Maya mused, “but uplifting.”

“So far, he’s got no problem uplifting.”

Teesha let out a hoot. “Now we’re talking.” She stretched out her legs. “God, this feels good. You get major points for thinking of this, Maya. I was going home and straight back to work.”

“I was heading into the shop to finish updating the website. I love the shop. I love working with the craftsmen, the artists, working the counter, talking with people every day. But you sure can get in a routine that dips toward a rut so you forget who you are outside of work, wife, and mom.”

She held up her glass. “Here’s to remembering to be a girlfriend.”

“You’re both the best I ever had.” Adrian tapped her glass. “Both of you, right there, are two big turning points in my life. That first summer here, you making room in your group for me, Maya. I really needed a friend.”

“I’m going to tell you what I never did. When my mom found out what happened, and that you were staying here for the summer, she sat me down. She explained, and she said a lot of kids might push questions on you. Some might even make fun of you or just say something mean. And she asked how I’d feel if kids did that to me. I said it would make me feel bad, and embarrassed. She just said I was right, and knew I wouldn’t do that. How she bet you could use a friend.”

“I love your mom,” Teesha murmured.

“Best there is. Of course, I said what if she’s mean or stupid or I just don’t like her? She said I should find out. So I did. And here we are.”

“You asked if I wanted to come over to your house and see your Barbies, and changed what I thought would be a summer of sad and alone. And here we are. And you.”

She shifted to Teesha. “I was so angry with my mother, sticking me in that school where I didn’t know anyone, didn’t want to be. Time to show her what I could do, time to grab my own. I walked over to that table in the cafeteria looking for a video crew. I got a whole lot more.”

“You shocked the crap out of us. The new girl, the one who should’ve marched over to the popular kids—the jocks or the snobs for sure—walks right over to us and sits down. It was brave. You’ve always been brave.”

“Pissed and determined. And here we are.”

Because it seemed right, she set down her glass, took her friends’ hands. “Next time I’ll have cookies.”

Rachael walked into the Ardaro Consultants offices in Northwest DC with a plan in mind, one she could adjust in several ways if necessary.

A couple days before, she’d called the office with the claim she was on the alumni reunion committee of Nikki Bennett’s high school. She’d put on the chatty and perky, and though Nikki’s assistant had been too professional to give her exact whereabouts, she had suggested Rachael call again in two days when Nikki would be back in the office.

Today, she intended to corner Nikki in her office as a frazzled owner of an independent bookstore in Bethesda, Maryland, who needed help restructuring her business.

At least until she got into the office, got that face-to-face.

She’d dressed for it—gray pants with her best black heels, a matching scoop-neck top, and a pale blue blazer. She’d borrowed her sister’s diamond studs, draped on a few sparkly chains, replaced her own simple wedding ring with a flashy cubic zirconia she believed would pass.

A woman of means. A woman who could afford to hire a good expert and experienced consultant from a good firm to turn her sweet business around.

She stepped into the tastefully appointed lobby, fixed on a pleasant but slightly arrogant look, and walked to the receptionist.

“Good morning. Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so. I’d like to speak with …” She held up a finger, took her phone out of her—also borrowed—Max Mara handbag. “Yes, it’s Nikki Bennett.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Rachael peered over. “She came highly recommended. I was in the building on another appointment. I’d like five minutes of her time. Please tell her Mrs. Salina Mathias is waiting. You’ve perhaps heard of my brother. Senator Charles Mathias.”

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Mathias.”

“Mrs.”

“Mrs. Mathias, Ms. Bennett is currently out of the office consulting with another client. I’d be more than happy to direct you to one of our other consultants, or have Ms. Bennett’s assistant schedule an appointment.”

“Well, when is she due back in the office?”

“Tomorrow. After her consult, she’s scheduled to work from home.”

“Working from home?” Rachael let out a short, derisive laugh. “I can see I’ve wasted my time.”

She sailed out.

And wondered what it said about her that she’d enjoyed putting on the entitled snob the receptionist would bitch about to a coworker on her break.

Back in her car, she changed the heels for sneakers, then drove out of the parking garage to head to Georgetown.

She stopped for snacks, to empty her bladder, then parked a half block up and across the street from the Bennetts’ dignified home.

She’d sit on the house—not nearly as much fun as pretending to be an asshole—until Nikki got back.

Pretty neighborhood, she thought, quiet, settled. Wealthy.

If somebody decided to report a strange car, she’d chat it up with the cops who came to have a look. She’d been one of them, after all.