Page 98 of The Worst Best Man

“We’re not serious,” Frankie said. “We’re just having fun, enjoying the ride.”

Pru snorted into her still water at “the ride.” “Oh, I bet you are.”

“He’s great. Okay? He’s smart and funny, so much more than the gorgeous son of a bitch I thought he was. Happy?” Frankie asked.

The waitress appeared and rattled off the daily specials. Pru ordered the kale salad with steamed chicken. Frankie ordered a beer and a turkey panini with fries.

“Why do you do this to me? All my snotty rich friends order green juice and plates of air,” Pru lamented.

Frankie took a bite out of one of the breadsticks the waitress delivered. “I’m your snotty poor friend, and I love carbs. I thought your stupid diet was over the minute the dress came off?”

“I’m on a new diet called fat blast the honeymoon weight.”

Frankie shoved the breadstick in Pru’s face and waved it from side to side. “Eat me. Eat meeeee…”

“God, I miss you,” Pru sighed, snatching the breadstick out of her hand and taking a tiny nibble out of it.

“You rebel, you,” Frankie teased. “I miss you, too.”

“So, tell me about Valentine’s Day. What did Aiden the perpetual bachelor do for you?”

“Well, he tried to surprise me with a long weekend in San Francisco. He had to go for business, but I couldn’t get away. So he ended up bringing over take out when he got back, and he got me a bracelet.”

A verynicebracelet. One that was too nice to actually wear. But she did open the swanky case and stare at the diamonds every night.

“Jewelry already? Margeaux would be impressed and dying of jealousy. What did you do for him?”

“I got him a Knicks hat.”

Pru sat waiting expectantly. “And?”

Frankie shrugged. “And that’s it. Well, I did flash him from the fire escape when he got to my place.”

Pru looked like she smelled something funny. It was her concentrating face that Frankie recognized from a few years of finals weeks.

“What?”

Pru shook her head, her honey blonde hair never moving from its sleek knot at the base of her neck. “Nothing. Hey, let’s do dinner tonight! The four of us! We can go to The Oak Leaf.”

Frankie wrinkled her nose. “Eh. Doesn’t Page Six camp out there?”

Pru rolled her eyes. “Who cares? Their crab puffs are to die for, and I miss you, and I want to see you and Aiden together so I can give you my official seal of approval. I’m texting Chip right now.”

“I don’t know what Aiden’s doing tonight,” Frankie began to argue.

“So text him. Find out,” Pru said without looking up. “It’s Friday night. You’re already here. You can stay at Aiden’s.”

“I’ve actually never been there,” Frankie said, taking a bigger bite of breadstick. It lodged in her throat.

Pru dropped her phone on the table with a clatter. “I’m sorry, what? You’ve been dating him for almost six weeks, and you haven’t seen his place yet? Is he just taking you to hotels like some skank?”

A few of the closer diners shot glances their way.

“I’m not a skank,” Frankie promised them. “She’s just running lines for a play.” Everyone went back to their meals. “Can you try to keep it down, please?”

“I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you to his place. I really thought this was different. Chip said he’s never seen Aiden so—”

“Relax, Cujo. He’s invited me plenty of times.”