“You’re biased.” Molly watched as he poured the sparkling liquid into three glasses.
“Why would you think you’re worth less than the best? Because some jerk with a big ego made you feel the size of a grain of rice a thousand years ago?”
“Three years ago. That’s not so far away.” She’d told them part of the story. Not all of it of course. No one knew all of it. But a large part of it had tumbled out one night when they’d shared Mark’s spaghetti Bolognese and a bottle of wine. That same night Gabe had told her that his father hadn’t spoken to him since he’d come out in his last year of high school and Mark confessed he had a closet full of pink shirts because his mother thought that was what gay men wore.
Families, she thought. The most complex relationship of them all.
“Honestly? I’m not great with his type.”
“Hot, sexy and charming? Yeah, that’s a killer combination. I can see why you’d struggle.”
“Very confident men make me wary.”
“Because they’re more likely to trample all over those defenses you’ve built? Honey, confidence is sexy.”
“Confidence can be intimidating. And then there’s the fact that he’s a divorce attorney. I’m a supporter of relationships.”
“Even though you don’t have one.” Mark dissected the risotto with his fork, examining the texture, apparently satisfied. “Does your hot guy in the park know about your secret identity?”
Molly felt a rush of alarm. “No! Of course not. I’m Molly.”
“So he doesn’t know about Aggie?”
“No one knows I’m Aggie apart from you, my dad and my publisher. And it’s staying that way.”
“You should be proud of your success.”
“I am. But these days I separate my work life from my personal life.” Molly glanced at Valentine and Gabe followed her gaze.
“He’s cute. Shame humans can’t marry dogs. He’s a keeper.”
Molly nodded. “Even Mrs. Winchester loves him and she isn’t easy to please.”
Gabe topped up their glasses. “Speaking of Mrs. Winchester, I saw her a moment ago. Her hearing aid has been fixed, so no dirty talking in the stairwell.”
“She shouts when her hearing aid isn’t working.” Mark drained his glass. “Hopefully now she might stop yelling, ‘you’re that nice gay man who lives upstairs,’ every time I meet her.”
“I get ‘at your age I was married,’” Molly said. “That’s one of my favorites.” She took a mouthful of champagne, enjoying the fizz and the warmth that spread slowly through her veins. “There is nothing better than drinking champagne with friends. It makes every day a celebration.”
Gabe stared at her. “That’s it!”
“That’s what?”
“Champagne—makes every day a celebration.” He leaned back, his chair rocking precariously as he grabbed a pen from the side and a piece of paper, which happened to be an advertisement for pizza delivery. “I need to write that down before I forget it. Shit, Molly, you’re a total genius.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Language. Mrs. Winchester can tolerate dog hair and the fact that we’re gay, but if she hears you swearing you’re out of here.”
Molly frowned. “Shouldn’t champagne be saved for special occasions?”
“If people save it for special occasions, the company doesn’t sell as much and won’t increase their profits. This way, people drink it all the time and I get a big, fat bonus.” Dropping his pen, Gabe raised his glass. “To friends. And to Mrs. Winchester’s hearing aid, which will hopefully last longer than the previous one.”
Seven
The day started with a dark threatening sky, but Daniel didn’t alter his plans. The day before, he and Molly had spent half an hour discussing their favorite places in New York, while Brutus and Valentine had romped in the grass together. True, she still hadn’t said yes to his invitation to dinner, but he sensed that pretty soon she would. Of course, finding a time was a challenge. The woman might not be dating much, but she certainly wasn’t sitting around.
Harriet handed over Brutus. “Do not be late today. Someone is coming to meet him. Don’t take him through any puddles. I need him to look his best.”
“You’re running a dog-dating agency?”