Page 36

Before

After my Dear Prudence dinner, Marcus started stopping by Este’s house with fresh produce every few weeks.

He’d bring strawberries or cucumbers or spring potatoes and make a dish for all of us to share.

I chalked it up to coincidence that he stopped by on the nights I was there for dinner, because when wasn’t I there for dinner?

It became a relaxed little routine for the four of us.

Marcus would teach us a recipe or Beau would fire up the grill.

We’d eat in the outdoor living room of Este’s backyard with the ceiling fans spinning and watch the wakeboarders and the crew shells glide by.

It was nice to have people to share the days with while Will was buried in work, but sometimes, when we were sitting out on the deck, I would catch myself staring at our house, looking for the light in Will’s office and silently begging him to come out and join us.

Maybe that’s why, when Will proposed we go out to dinner one night, I leaped across the kitchen to hug him.

“I would love that.” I smiled.

His face screwed up a little at the sight of my enthusiasm. Like he hated to be the one to break the news to me. “There’s a catch, I’m afraid.” He sighed. “It’s a work thing. I’m sorry. Fritz thinks it would be a good idea for the four of us to get dinner.”

My shoulders fell. “Like you and me? With him and Gianna?”

“I know she’s not your favorite person. And I told him I barely have time to have dinner with you thanks to his latest fuckup, but he insisted.”

“I don’t hate her. But I am certain she…disapproves of me.”

“What? Why?”

Does he really not know what people say about me?

“I don’t know. She’s just Gianna. And I’m…not.”

“Yeah, you’re you. My wife. Right?”

Right.

He needed this. I could see it in his eyes.

“Of course. We’ll go. It’ll be…fun.” I nodded, walked toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Determined not to let this turn into a fight. “But you’ll still play footsie with me under the table, though?”

He smiled weakly. “Sure.”

God, he looks so tired.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been working like a madman, and it seems like you’re always stressed and cleaning up Fritz’s messes.”

He pulled me close, and I rested my head on his chest. I heard his heart beating, and I tried to listen for signs of distress. He kissed the top of my head. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

—

“Wow, Nora.” Will took in a breath and pulled one hand to his chest when I walked into his office the night of the dinner. He was already dressed for dinner but had gone back to his office to knock out a few emails when I told him that I needed ten more minutes to finish my makeup.

I had spent hours on TikTok, searching for the perfect smoky eye makeup tutorial. If I was going to have to sit across from Gianna all night, I was going to look perfect. Because she was perfect.

“You like it?” I turned in place to show off the form-fitting designer dress I had borrowed from Este’s closet. “I went shopping at Este’s.”

She might be a boho fairy by day, but Este’s evening wear could make a Vogue editor weep.

“Tell her I’ll buy the dress from her.” He came toward me.

“I’ll see what I can do.” I giggled.

It was nice to see an emotion that wasn’t exhaustion or frustration from Will. Maybe this double date could be fun.

“Let’s go.” He touched the small of my back and guided me toward the garage.

Once we were loaded into his car, though, he looked over at me. “I just realized I forgot where we’re going.”

Will had left the reservations to me, and I called in a favor with Marcus for Lemon & Fig.

Apparently weekend reservations were booked weeks—if not months—out.

Even though it was the first time my name, not Will’s, was the fix for snagging a restaurant reservation, I didn’t offer up the fact that Marcus was a friend of mine.

“Lemon and Fig. Este and Beau are friends with the chef.”

Will nodded and reached a hand across the center console to hold mine as we headed down the driveway.

—

“We must be early.” Will looked at his watch as we were seated near a window.

I couldn’t help the look I gave him. “It’s six forty-five. The reservation was for six-thirty.”

I knew a snub when I saw one, and Gianna never missed the opportunity for a power play. Will, on the other hand, never missed the chance to give people the benefit of the doubt.

“Let’s get a drink,” he soothed, landing a small kiss on my shoulder and rubbing my back.

It was after seven when Gianna and Fritz finally rolled in. I expected some flare of drama over their late arrival or a show of remorse and maybe even an elaborate—if flimsy—story as to why they were delayed, but they simply strolled in as if they were right on time.

I guess when you’re Fritz and Gianna Hall, you’re always exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Will stood to greet them, but I kept my seat, a quiet protest.

After the requisite air-kisses and backslaps had been exchanged, Fritz took the seat across from me while Gianna opted to sit in the corner, opposite Will.

The server was quick to attend to our table and take down their drink orders, hurrying off with a similar urgency to retrieve their requests.

It was like watching someone wait on royalty or a celebrity—pathetically obsequious.

“Nora,” Fritz said and slapped a hand on the table. “How the hell are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Surely not ages, Fritz,” Gianna purred. “Nora and Will haven’t even been married a year.”

Subtext: You’re brand-new and do not belong.

“I’ve been well.” I smiled politely. “Thank you for asking.”

“What do you get up to in that big house all by yourself?” Gianna asked as she sipped her tequila and soda.

Translation: You do not run in our circles. And like any other straggler in a pack of animals, we should leave you for dead.

“This and that.” I shrugged, very aware that anything I said to Gianna would make its way back to Constance in short order.

Will put an arm around my shoulder. “She practically lives in the yoga studio with our neighbor, Este.”

This made Gianna’s sharp eyes go wide. “I didn’t know you were so athletic. You should come by the club sometime. The girls and I have a little tennis group. We’d love to add one more to the clan.”

In other words: I’d love to isolate and bully you for sport while my friends watch. We can bring tennis rackets.

“Oh gosh.” I tried to sound innocent. “You’re so kind to offer. I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at tennis. The scoring makes me dizzy. What is it with country club sports and made-up scoring systems? Golf, tennis, cricket—it’s all Greek to me.”

Considering you already think I’m an unsophisticated idiot, I might as well play dumb to get out of whatever kind of hellscape socializing with you and your friends would be.

“It’s very nice of you to extend the invitation, Gianna,” Will chimed in. “I’ll help Nora brush up on scoring.”

“I’ll bet you will.” Fritz wagged his eyebrows.

Gianna just rolled her eyes. Will took a sip of his drink.

“Don’t mind Fritz,” Will said to me, but loud enough for the table to hear. “He’s never been able to move on from sophomoric humor.” Then, directly to Fritz, he said, “Even when it’s completely inappropriate.”

Fritz didn’t exactly look contrite, and Will didn’t quite look angry. But an awkward silence settled over the table. I’d never seen them like this.

Gianna kept the smile frozen on her face, then tried to break the silence. “How are things with the firm, Will? Fritz tells me you’re working on the case of a lifetime. Martinez something or other?”

Is this the thing that keeps him up all night? Why does Gianna know about it but not me?

My chest stings.

Will looked at Fritz for a second, and there was something strange and unspoken in the way he eyed his partner.

“Among other things,” Will said, noncommittally. “I’ve been swamped. And I’ve had to pull a few favors with the courts to keep up with all of the deadlines.” There was another look in Fritz’s direction.

For his part, Fritz was completely unaffected by Will’s veiled swipes. But everyone else at the table seemed to be aware of the tension. Will was mad at Fritz for something, and it was bigger than just a crass joke.

While Gianna had thrown out superficial topics—the weather, Mia’s schooling, rising property taxes—to keep the conversation going, I had listened for clues about what was really going on.

But Will was polite, engaged on each topic and kept a sort of distance from anything that might draw Fritz into the conversation.

That didn’t keep Fritz from chiming in in his usual big way, taking up any available space and calling the attention back to himself.

Fritz trying to take control of the conversation only for Will to wrench it back was an unusual tug-of-war.

Usually, Will gave Fritz all the rope he wanted, shrugging off the wild stories and lewd language as “just Fritz being Fritz.” That night, though, he wasn’t laughing Fritz off, and when Fritz had piped up to add a comment, Will had diplomatically and firmly changed the subject.

When the tension got to be too much to bear, I had excused myself for the bathroom, and took my time walking through the restaurant. In no hurry to return to the conversational standoff at the table, I checked the news on my phone as I’d stood by the sinks in the ladies’ room.

After I had wasted the maximum time allowable—enough time that it was plausible I had used the bathroom, but not so much time that Gianna could start a rumor I had some kind of digestive disorder—I emerged and bumped squarely into Marcus.

“Sorry,” I sputtered as we collided.

He put both hands on my arms to steady me. “Hey, Nora! I read the note that this was a work thing. That’s too bad. I would have pulled together a Yellow Submarine tasting menu.”

I smiled. “Yeah. It’s for my husband.”

We were in a narrow hallway, set back from the dining room. He looked behind himself to see if he could spot our table.

“By the window.” I pointed surreptitiously.

“Ah,” he said. “So that’s the elusive Mr. Nora.”

“Will. And Fritz and Gianna, the witch.”

“Witch, like she’s got powers?”

“Witch, like if she had powers she’d use them to make me disappear.” I shrugged. “I’d love to see her turned into a newt or something.”

“Got it.” He turned back to me. “So, if you two can’t stand each other, why are you at dinner together again?”

As if it’s that simple.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen Will in, like, a hundred years, so I said yes to spend some time with him.” I bit the inside of my cheek. Complaining about Will to Marcus felt like a betrayal. I looked back at the table and saw Will watching us.

His face was inscrutable, but as I caught his sight line, he winked, his face softening into a smile.

I turned to Marcus. “I should get back.”

—

“What was that?” I asked as we were driving home at the end of the night.

The tension at the table had not gotten any better. In their own, conflict-averse ways, Will and Fritz covertly sparred with each other for the entire meal.

Will just shrugged and said, “It’s complicated. And what was with the conversation between you and the chef?”

“Don’t turn it around, Will. Marcus is a friend. What’s going on with you and Fritz?”

“Fritz and I aren’t seeing eye to eye at work.”

“About what?”

“Almost everything.”

Another nonanswer.

“You know you can talk to me about work stuff, right? I am happy to be a sounding board. I’m your wife—”

“Leave it alone, Nora. The work stuff doesn’t concern you.”

It was a real shutdown, and it hurt. It was the first time he had made me feel like the ditzy young wife everyone gossiped about.

I couldn’t help but fire back, “Then don’t concern me with stuffy dinners with Fritz and Gianna.”

I crossed my arms and shifted toward my window. Will let out an almost inaudible sigh, but I heard it and tried to fight back the tears that were stinging at the corners of my eyes.

He reached over and pulled at my left arm. I let him. He took my hand and kissed it. “This will all pass. I’m going to take care of it. I love you.”

I didn’t say another word the rest of the way home.