“Bob, sweetie, put the Louboutin down,” Audrey said as she handed them each a champagne flute. “I swear, they say dogs are color-blind, but Bob only seems to go for the red soles.”
“Don’t judge her,” Naomi said. “She has excellent taste. Who is that poor dog even living with these days?”
“Claire and Scott, but I get regular visitation rights,” Audrey explained.
“Ah. And where are you living?” Naomi asked Claire. “Since you have, what? Three places to choose from?”
“Mine. Are you kidding? That sucker took months of planning. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor,” Claire replied.
“And Scott’s labor?” Naomi nudged.
“Eh. Maybe a little. I guess he did some stuff. Built the kitchen, redid the bathrooms, changed all the flooring, painted all the walls . . .”
“But you Pinterested hard,” Audrey pointed out.
“I did. I really did. Thank you for noticing.”
Naomi had picked up Claire’s left hand and was tilting it in every direction. “I still can’t believe you’re married. I haven’t even found my dress yet.”
“Second wedding prerogative,” Claire pointed out. “I’ve already done the big white wedding. This time around, I just wanted Scott.”
“Don’t cry,” Naomi said, pointing a warning finger at an already blubbering Audrey without looking away from Claire. “But it is pretty damn sweet the way you guys are doing things your way, all out of order.”
Scott and Claire had spent the week in Paris on what they’d called their honeymoon. Then they’d come home and gotten married at city hall on the way back from the airport. Then they’d moved into the home they’d built together.
Scott had started work almost immediately on a new building in the city, one he swore he liked even better than the Shanghai project. It didn’t hurt that the architect of this one was none other than Oliver Cunningham.
Life was just about perfect.
Naomi set Claire’s hand aside and turned her attention toward Audrey. “All right, Tate. Two of us in the pact down, one to go.”
“Well, actually,” Claire pointed out. “The pact was to help each other avoid the Manhattan womanizers, not necessarily to help each other find the right guy.”
Naomi gave her a look. “Really? Says the one who’s been looking like the personification of the heart-eyes emoji for the past few weeks?”
“I do want that,” Audrey admitted. “But I’ll also point out that I’m the only one with a perfect record on picking out the good ones. Naomi couldn’t see Oliver when he was right under her nose, and she misjudged Scott. Claire saw Oliver’s potential, but kissed way too many frogs before realizing Scott was the one.”
“Your point?” Naomi said.
“Just that the record proves that I am the best judge of male character. I love your intentions, but at this rate, I’ll have married my dream guy before you two have even spotted him. Bob, no! Drop the Louboutin!”
Claire and Naomi exchanged a knowing look as Audrey bent to wrestle a shoe from the dog. They’d both already spotted Audrey’s perfect guy.
And he was sitting right under her nose.
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much for letting me share Claire and Scott’s love story with you! I hope you enjoyed watching these two stubborn souls journey to happily ever after!
I loved writing this story, but as always, it didn’t make it from my imagination to the bookshelf without the help of a fantastic team who deserve my heartfelt thanks:
My agent, Nicole Resciniti, always deserves a shout-out, but she was instrumental in this book in particular for helping me navigate some tricky rewrites.
Marla Daniels, my lovely editor, for throwing your entire heart into making sure we got this one exactly right. And to Sara Quaranta for stepping in and taking this book under your wing to help get it out into the world.
To the entire Simon & Schuster team, thank you for your amazing marketing, design, and production support. Especially Hannah Payne for making sure this book got into all the right hands!
Kristi Yanta—I hope you know that I absolutely could not have made this story sparkle without your thoughtful notes.
Lisa Filipe, you’re a freaking treasure.
Jennifer Probst and Rachel Van Dyken, your email assistance on this book was absolutely pivotal, and Jessica Lemmon, you always know when I need to be reminded to take a breath and step away when I feel stuck.
And last, but never least, to Anth. For the coffee, and for the wine.
Don’t miss the first in
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Love on Lexington Avenue Page 23
