Page 101 of Happy Wife

“They’ll be ready in three to five years,” Este chimed in.

Beau fired back, “What’s that healing book say about negative energy, Este?”

She rolled her eyes. “Hey, stranger.” Este patted the chaise next to her. “Come sit with me.”

“Stranger?” I dropped into the chair. “I saw you three hours ago at yoga.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t done dinner in forever. You’ve been too busy making heart eyes at Will.”

I had been making heart eyes at Will most nights. But even on the nights that he had a work commitment or some late-night brief to write, I steered clear of dinner at Este and Beau’s. I hadn’t seen Marcus since the night I stayed at his place. And dinner with Este and Beau meant I might run into him. And then I might have to talk about that awful fight again.

We’ve moved on. I’m not looking back.

“It’s good to have you back. Can I get you a drink?” Beau offered on his way to the house. “Marcus is making margaritas in the kitchen.”

“Marcus is here?” My stomach lurched.

“You think I’d let Beau use power tools without adult supervision? I made him show me where his living will is before I even let them go to the hardware store.”

I tried to laugh, but it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll pass on the margarita, but thanks.”

Este handed me her glass of rosé with a knowing expression. “Take this. I’ll go get another.”

What was that? Did Marcus tell Este I stayed at his place? No, I don’t think he would do that. And if he did, I’m pretty sure she would have let herself into my house at any hour of the day or night to get to the bottom of the story.

The look was gone by the time she returned with a fresh glass of wine in her hand.

She settled back into her lounger and took a sip of her drink. “How’s the planning for Will’s birthday party coming?”

“Oh, God.” I sighed, touching my forehead with one hand. “Autumn keeps sending me Pinterest boards. I feel like my head’s going to explode. She keeps asking me about table linens and color palettes. I mean, fuck. I didn’t even know drink menus needed an aesthetic.”

“Jesus, this town is the worst sometimes. Drink menus don’t need an aesthetic.” Este snickered. “What the hell does that even mean? Sounds like she’s just padding her hourly rate so she can charge you a fee every time she gets the urge to google ‘twinkle lights.’ ”

“It seemed like the right idea at the time, but I’m starting to dread it.”

“It’s going to be fine. I’ll be there, and Beau will bring weed if you want.”

I stifled a laugh. “When doesn’t he bring weed?”

“You know…” Este shifted in her seat to face me. “You should see if Marcus will cater this fête.”

Another look.

Does she know something?

It’s not like Este to be coy. Still, I saw her watching my face for a reaction, but I kept my expression neutral.

“I’ll let Autumn handle that.” I waved the thought off casually. “I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m where logistics go to die for this party. And I don’t want to mess up all of her spreadsheets and planning documents.”

“What a nut.”

“She’snice.”

“She and Carol Parker might as well be best friends. I bet they’re planning a trip to Magnolia Farm together or something equally clichéd and sad. And the way she worships the old biddies at the Garden Club. It’s all a bit fucking much.”

“Not everyone can afford to fuck off to a private island if being a member of the civilized world doesn’t pan out for them, Este. Some people have to go along to get along.”

“Touché.” She sipped her drink with an unapologetic smile.