But if she did the right thing, why was she so miserable?
“Thank God. I was dying out there,” Olivia said when the hostess waved them into the restaurant. Leyla was the hottest new brunch spot in town, and it didn’t take reservations, which meant you had to wait at least an hour for a seat on the weekends. Olivia hated lines more than she hated wrinkled shirts, but Farrah knew she’d make an exception for food. “It’s so freakin’ hot today.”
Farrah murmured in agreement as she followed the hostess to their table.
“Who’s this mystery friend that’s supposed to meet us?” Olivia examined the single-page menu. “They better be good, considering we waited in line for an hour and they’re not even here yet.”
“Uh, well, you know him.”
Olivia lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”
“He’s right there.”
Farrah waved at her friend and braced herself for the fallout. Olivia turned, then whipped around to face Farrah again with fury oozing out of every pore.
“Are. You. Kidding me?”
“Remember Ken?” Farrah said quickly. “I forgave you for that.”
“That’s different! That was an innocent mistake on my part. He’s perfectly respectable in the office. I didn’t know he was such a jerk outside the office. But this, this is an act of utter betrayal—”
“Hey.” Sammy stopped next to their table. He looked even more handsome than usual in a pale blue button-down that set off his tan and a pair of dark denim jeans.
His face lit up with surprise and anger at the sight of Olivia. He was too much of a gentleman to say anything, but the displeasure wafted from him in waves.
“Hi!” Farrah chirped. “So glad you could make it. Take a seat.”
Sammy bypassed the empty seat next to Olivia and sat beside Farrah.
Both he and Olivia pinned Farrah with steely glares.
Hmm. Maybe tricking them into brunch with each other wasn’t the best idea.
But Farrah was sick of the animosity between her friends, and she wanted them to make up already. It’d been years since their breakup.
She realized the irony of the situation, given her refusal to give Blake another chance, but that was different. Sammy and Olivia’s breakup had been mutual, and one of them hadn’t confessed they still had feelings for the other.
Allegedly still had feelings. Farrah wasn’t going to take Blake’s words at face value.
“I’m so happy we’re together again.” Farrah tried to get the conversation going. “It’s like old times.” Minus the rest of the group, but that was a minor detail.
“Just like old times.” Sarcasm dripped from Olivia’s voice.
Farrah kicked her under the table and winced when Olivia kicked her back. They glared at each other.
Farrah tried her luck with the more reasonable person at the table. “Sammy, how was your meeting?”
Sammy had texted her when he returned to New York a few days ago—this time, hopefully, for much longer than three days.
He’d had a “casual coffee” with a potential business partner this morning, which was why he couldn’t wait in line with them. It was a Sunday, but Farrah swore half the deals in the city took place during “casual” weekend meetings.
“It was good.” Sammy’s shoulders remained stiff, but his grudging tone indicated he was well on his way to forgiving Farrah for the ambush. “We signed the deal.”
“That’s great!” Farrah almost knocked over her coffee in her excitement. “Sammy’s opening a pop-up bakery at Convention,” Farrah explained to Olivia. Convention was a trendy Soho storefront known for its revolving calendar of pop-ups. Every four months, it transformed into a new restaurant, bakery, or cafe headed by a Michelin-starred chef or food celebrity. The variety and star power made Convention catnip to Manhattan’s fickle culinary elite. “New York’s finally getting a Crumble & Bake! For four months, at least.”
“Great.” Olivia downed her mimosa in one long swallow. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Sammy said.