Shadow Spell (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy 2)
“Gay, Julie.”
“You can’t tell from here.” Julie lowered the glasses, frowned, then lifted them again for another look. “Your gaydar can’t leap over buildings in a single bound like Superman.”
“He’s wearing a thong. Enough said.”
“It’s for ease of movement.”
“Thong,” Lila repeated.
“Does he dance nightly?”
“Pretty much. I figure he’s a struggling actor, working part-time in a strip club until he gets his break.”
“He’s got a great body. David had a great body.”
“Had?”
Julie set down the glasses, mimed breaking a twig in half.
“When?”
“Right after the Hamptons Wedding Week From Hell. It had to be done, but I didn’t want to do it at the wedding, which was bad enough.”
“Sorry, honey.”
“Thanks, but you didn’t like David anyway.”
“I didn’t not like him.”
“Amounts to the same. And though he was so nice to look at, he’d just gotten too clingy. Where are you going, how long will you be, blah blah. Always texting me, or leaving messages on my machine. If I had work stuff, or made plans with you and other friends, he’d get upset or sulky. God, it was like having a wife—in the worst way. No dis meant to wives, as I used to be one. I’d only been seeing him for a couple months, and he was pushing to move in. I don’t want a live-in.”
“You don’t want the wrong live-in,” Lila corrected.
“I’m not ready for the right live-in yet. It’s too soon after Maxim.”
“It’s been five years.”
Julie shook her head, patted Lila’s hand. “Too soon. Cheating bastard still pisses me off. I have to get that down to mild amusement, I think. I hate breakups,” she added. “They either make you feel sad—you’ve been dumped; or mean—you’ve done the dumping.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever dumped anyone, but I’ll take your word.”
“That’s because you make them think it’s their idea—plus you really don’t let it get serious enough to earn the term ‘dump.’”
Lila just smiled. “It’s too soon after Maxim,” she said, and made Julie laugh. “We can order in. There’s a Greek place the clients recommended. I haven’t tried it yet.”
“As long as there’s baklava for after.”
“I have cupcakes.”
“Even better. I now have it all. Swank apartment, good wine, Greek food coming, my best pal. And a sexy . . . oh, and sweaty,” she added as she lifted the glasses again. “Sexy, sweating dancing man—sexual orientation not confirmed.”
“Gay,” Lila repeated, and rose to get the takeout menu.
* * *
THEY POLISHED OFF MOST OF THE WINE WITH LAMB KABOBS—
then dug into the cupcakes around midnight. Maybe not the best combination, Lila decided, considering her mildly queasy stomach, but just the right thing for a friend who was more upset about a breakup than she admitted.