Just Friends

She checked out after the reference to some naïve girl not knowing what anal was. Gross. Rachel pulled her phone off the end table and checked her notifications. Surprisingly, she had a message waiting for her on the dating app.

Not from a man (let alone Jeff the supposed skirt flipper.) From the first woman she agreed to see.

“Hey, babe.” The flirty text said. “Here’s what I’m imagining: you and me and a bottle of wine at my place. Let’s see where it goes. But first, dinner?”

Rachel stared at the message until her eyes crossed. She finally put her phone down.

Zack came into the room fifteen minutes later. He undressed at the foot of the bed. Rachel remained motionless, facing away from him as he slipped into bed behind her. He was naked, and interested in a nude cuddle before going to sleep.

Neither one of them said anything. Within a few minutes, Zack lightly snored against the back of Rachel’s neck.

She turned on her phone again. The message was still there, taunting her.

He’s probably got three dates already lined up for next weekend. Here some gorgeous woman was, hardcore flirting with her and already inviting her over.

The last thing Rachel did before going to sleep was reply.

Chapter 23

Zack’s family always expressed a modicum of surprise when he showed up to a semi-formal function dressed in a collared shirt and closed-toe shoes. But when Eloise left a text that morning saying, “You WILL come to the family dinner tonight, and you WILL dress nicely,” Zack decided he wasn’t in the mood to fight it.

He could have come down with something at the last minute, of course, but if the rumors were true, his oldest brother Daniel was gearing up to propose to his long-time girlfriend during dessert. Like hell he was missing that spectacle!

“Great mercy from the Lord on high.” Eloise closed her hands around her son’s face the moment they bumped into each other in the main hall. “You even shaved.”

“And used aftershave.”

“You become slightly less barbaric with every year you survive.” His mother’s sharp nails grazed his skin when she pulled away. “There may be hope for you yet.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

She gestured for him to join the rest of the Feldman clan in the front living room. And the Walken family, who of course was in attendance that night after hearing the same rumors about their daughter and Daniel.

“Portia,” Zack said, taking the matriarch’s hands into his own and exchanging kisses. “Stuart.” He shook the portly man’s hand. Only customary to greet the guests to his family home before receiving a slap to his back from his brother Evan and an exasperated look from Daniel on the other side of the room. “And, of course, Janet.”

Daniel’s fiancée-to-be wore her name well. She was a diabolical mix of classically sophisticated and pleasantly fresh, having studied at the best all girls’ boarding school in Europe while partying with the rest of New York’s elite. Her naturally curly, dark auburn hair rested effortlessly on her shoulders and crept down her gangly arms. Her black dress hugged the few curves she had, but her sex appeal was more in the expressive amber eyes she used to peruse the room. Even Zack was momentarily captivated every time he exchanged kisses to the cheek with his future sister-in-law and the destined future matriarch of all things Feldman. I don’t think I could have picked better for my brother. Portia and Eloise had conspired the relationship when both of their children were in college. Eloise was keen to get the Walkens’ New York money into the family coffers and Portia’s Italian features into the genepool. (They were fashionable again. All the matchmakers in New York encouraged it.) And, of course, Portia wanted to solidify her family’s connection to other parts of America while getting her daughter’s hand into every Feldman asset. Neither family had anything to lose and everything to gain.

“So nice to see you, Zack.” Janet lowered her hands and stood close to her partner. They’re living together, right? Wait, no, not officially. The uptight Catholic Walkens opposed premarital relations on paper, although they looked the other way whenever Daniel whisked their only daughter to a tropical island or a weekend romantic getaway to Paris. They drew the line at formal cohabitation, however.

God help me if I end up with a woman from a family like that. Daniel and Janet had been together for years. Daniel must really love her to put up with that.

The family ambled into the formal dining room and helped themselves to their assigned seats at the large 12-person table in front of the Georgian windows overlooking the greenest acreage that side of the river. The “humble” manor had been built by Zack’s grandfather during the depression when labor was cheap and some of the materials cheaper. What remained – after countless remodels through the decades – was an early 20th century throwback that was the envy of every architectural and home and garden magazine looking for their next cover photo. Sometimes Eloise humbled them with a brief tour if the lighting was good. Otherwise, she locked the double-doors and pretended to be a princess in her tower in no need of rescuing.

Four men at the table had been raised in this house. Isaiah was the most recent to take up residence in the master bedroom, but it was heavily implied that Daniel and Janet would one day raise their own children in this house. (Evan was keen to get a condo in Hong Kong and a flat in New York, anyway. Nobody cared what Zack wanted, property wise.) Only step to take now was to make the engagement official.

Soup was served. Zack covertly checked his phone beneath the table while family conversed around him. Like I care what they’re talking about. Stocks. Traveling around Europe. Which New York hotel was worth its salt those days. How hard it was to find good help anymore? “Where has all the good Slavic labor gone?” Portia lamented between courses. “Used to be we could find the best Slavic maids and nannies for half the cost of Mediterranean or Filipino! Sometimes I wish the USSR would come back and make those people desperate for American jobs again!” The only one cringing at the table – besides Zack, of course – was Isaiah, who probably wondered if some distant relative of theirs had ever worked for a family like the Walkens.

“So, Zack,” Evan interjected before Portia could start ranting about her Guatemalan gardener, “what’s this I hear about you having a new girlfriend?”

The female half of the table rolled their eyes. The male half turned their heads.

Including Zack, who looked to his father for help.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Zack said when Isaiah remained mum.

“That’s the best thing about being the youngest boy of three,” Stuart chuckled. He was the oldest of three sons, both brothers having founded their own companies in New York. “You get to live life to the fullest. Enjoy it. I know I envied my youngest brother since he was born!”

“Yes,” Eloise cut in. “Zachary has been quite spoiled compared to his brothers. The only pressure put on him is to be devilishly handsome and charming.” She said that with no admiration. “Unlike poor Daniel over there. You know!”

The two mothers shared laughter over an inside joke. Janet stifled her own giggles with her hand. Daniele sighed. Zack had a feeling this had to do with the expected proposal.

Daniel got up and excused himself for a few minutes. “I’m going to check on dessert,” he said, barely loud enough for his girlfriend and mother to hear.

They exchanged excited glances. Daniel, on the other hand, looked like he was about to vomit as he raced into the anteroom to the kitchen.

Isaiah kicked his son’s foot beneath the table. When Zack looked in his direction, his father curtly nodded before jerking his head toward the kitchen doors.

Why me? This was a job for Evan. Those two were much closer than Zack was with either of his brothers!

Nevertheless, when his father asked him to do something, Zack was inclined to do it. No skin off his back if he went into the kitchen and gave his big brother a pep talk.

“Yoooo.” Zack swung the door open wide and found Daniel leaning against an empty counter. The main kitchen beyond another pair of doors rumbled with clattering pots and chefs barking in French to one another. Of course they called in the French chefs for tonight’s party. The usual Feldman chef was a Russian woman whose dark gray eyes spoke more than her clipped words. But she made a mean spaghetti and meatballs. “What’s up?”

“Who sent you in?” Daniel snapped. “Mom or Dad?”

“Dad.”

Daniel released his pent up breath. “Guessing you’ve heard what’s going on.”

“Only if it has to do with you proposing to Janet in front of both families.”

Zack’s brother reached into his front jacket pocket and pulled out a diamond ring. “I’ve had this thing for ten months.”

“Jesus. What’s taken you this long to propose? You really think she’s going to say no? Or are you really that chickenshit about getting married to a woman you’re going to Heaven with anyway?”

“I’m more scared of the big Catholic wedding they’re going to make me go through. That shit’s no joke.” Daniel put the ring back into his pocket. “No. I was going to propose when we went to Cabo last month. I only got the ring months ago because I found the perfect one in some German shop when I went there for work. Vintage. Janet loves vintage and Bavarian anything. Guess what part of Germany I was in?”