The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (10 page)

“Good, they’ve got a vegan entree,” he said.
“White cannellini and gnocchi with cabbage.”

Which would have had Lucy reaching for the
Beano, so she settled on the chicken. And, because Alex had shifted
over to eliminate the space between them, she decided to ask for
wine too, even though it was early and she was freezing and they
only had chilled whites.

After they’d ordered, Lucy put on a warm
smile and turned to Alex. “You’re an old friend of Huntley’s?”

“Not too old. Only since college.”

“We’re not
old
, Lucy,” Krista said,
and Lucy wished she’d let her go back to her cabin.

The waitress placed a goblet of coconut water
in front of each of them.

“I meant I haven’t known him as long as Miles
has.” Alex sipped the coconut water. “They went to prep school
together, the whole bit—fathers belonged to the same country club,
summer home in the Hamptons, spring break in Costa Rica, that sort
of thing.”

“Miles didn’t mention that.” Krista looked
thoughtful.

“He’s always been in denial,” Alex said.
“There was a lot of that at Stanford. Kids realizing how good they
had it, not wanting to feel guilty about it.”

The waitress placed a painted wicker basket
of crustless baguette slices on the table. Lucy slathered a piece
with butter and put it in her mouth, uneasy with Alex’s tone.
“Isn’t he an old friend of yours?”

“Not really. We were roommates very briefly.
Freshman year. Stanford makes a big deal about resident education.
You’re supposed to learn as much from each other as from your
classes.”

“It didn’t work out?” Lucy said.

“He dropped out of school right after
Christmas break. Moved into Huntley’s mansion in Atherton, which is
where Huntley spent most of his time too, since he hated his
roommate. But then the spot opened up in my room, and he started
sleeping with a girl on the third floor—” He closed his eyes for a
second then laughed, looking embarrassed. “My God, listen to me.
Not the sort of stuff I should bring up at the man’s wedding. Point
is, I got to be great friends with Huntley, but Miles left before I
got to know him.”

“Why’d he drop out?” Krista asked.

Alex sipped his drink. “You’d have to ask
him.”

Krista glanced at Lucy. “But you must know
something.”

“It’s not my place to say,” he said. “And
really, I only heard about it secondhand.”

“He never went back?” Krista asked.

“Krista,” Lucy said, “It’s really not any of
our business.”

“No, he never did, and it killed me. To have
that opportunity—” Alex cut himself off again, ducked his head.
“Sorry. I’m kind of irrational about education. And access to
it.”

Krista gave Lucy a meaningful eyebrow wiggle.
“Alex is a lawyer for an educational non-profit in San
Francisco.”

“Great,” Lucy said. Small talk was not her
thing, especially when the other person was chatty. Easier just to
nod and listen.

Breaking the awkward lull in the
conversation, Krista said, “I had breakfast with Miles this
morning. He seemed like a really nice guy.”

“He is, he is,” Alex said quickly.

“I kind of talked his ear off,” Krista
said.

“Easy to do,” Alex said. “He’s not much of a
conversationalist.”

Lucy was finding it harder to keep the smile
on her face, so she looked down at the plate that had appeared in
front of her and speared a potato. She really was going to have to
think of something to say. Chewing, she caught Krista’s eyes on
her, the silent entreaty to speak. She swallowed and said, “Not
that you knew him very well.”

Krista closed her eyes.

“You’re right.” Smiling, Alex sipped broth
from his spoon and nodded. “You know what my problem must be?”

“No,” Lucy said, and Krista kicked her again.
Lucy snapped her head around to glare at her. “What?”

Krista smiled tightly at Alex, who
laughed.

“It’s okay, I have it all figured out, and
it’s not flattering.” He toasted them with his goblet of coconut
water, then stared into it without drinking. “I’m jealous.”

“Of all the privileges they had?” Krista
reached out to touch his arm, grabbed her goblet instead. “We
totally get that. Lucy and I grew up with the basics, but not much
extra. People think academics make tons of money and it just isn’t
true.”

“No, I’m jealous of something far more
humiliating.” Alex set down the glass, set his palms on the table
to either side of his plate, and leaned back in his chair. “I, Alex
Sargeant, am jealous that I am not the best man. There. I admitted
it.” He picked up his fork and scooped some gnocchi into his mouth,
smiling at Lucy. His brown eyes were warm and amused.

Krista put her hand on her chest. “Oh! How
sweet. Of course you would be.” She gave Lucy a warning look. “It’s
funny, because I had the same problem.”

Alex gave Krista a quick, polite smile.
“Really?” The way he’d been staring at Lucy until then had made her
wonder if she had white sauce on her nose.

Krista leaned forward. “Yes. We’ve all known
each other since junior high, even earlier, and Fawn and I have
always had a special friendship because of the fashion thing. She’s
a model, I’m a fashion designer—you know? I thought the wedding
would be, uh, our place to really bond.”

Lucy had to look at her plate to keep herself
from laughing out loud. Fawn and Krista were friends, but not very
close ones, and Krista’s ambitions to be a fashion guru had put a
strain on the relationship. Being her maid of honor would have led
to homicide.

“So you know how ridiculous I feel,” Alex
said. “And I’m a guy, so it’s even more embarrassing. We’re not
supposed to care about this sort of thing, which is of course a
sexist delusion. Men are secretly, hopelessly sentimental.”

“That is so true,” Lucy said with conviction.
“I’ve always known that.”

He beamed at her. Really, he had very nice
eyes. His hair was a nice, deep brown color too, and his skull
looked nicely shaped if and when he lost his hair a couple of years
down the line. He wasn’t difficult to look at. No weird tics that
might get distracting during a conversation. And he didn’t have any
obvious hygiene issues.

“Which is why it was so, so nice that Lucy
offered to step aside so I could be the maid of honor,” Krista
said.

Burying her shocked cough in a napkin, Lucy
averted her eyes back to her plate and couldn’t see Alex’s face
when he touched her hand and said, “That was very generous of
you.”

Krista sighed. “Of course, I refused. But
please don’t say anything, okay? Especially not to Fawn.”

His hand was warm over hers. She pulled hers
free, patted his, and buried it in the napkin in her lap. Lucy
didn’t like lying. Lies unbalanced everything, fogged up the view.
She was a scientist and believed in it. Lies were human; truth was
divine.

“She’s joking,” Lucy said. “Fawn would
never—Krista wouldn’t—” Crap. What could she say now?

“I understand. We won’t talk about it,” Alex
said, but Lucy could see he believed Krista. His knee was bumping
her thigh again.

Nice skull
, she thought.
And no
obvious hygiene issues.

They finished the meal—joking about the lack
of a bill—and went out into the clearing in front of the
restaurant. The fog had crept back in, blurring the tops of the
trees, and white tendrils snaked through the trees looking like a
side dish for The Snowy Egret.

“We have to go. We have a spa appointment at
three.” Lucy held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you,
Alex.”

His gaze darted down to her hand, lingering
over the rest of her, and came back to her face. He held her
fingers, then enveloped her hand between both of his and looked
into her eyes. “Very nice.”

She made herself smile back, but she didn’t
like two-handed shaking and was concentrating on holding her hand
still inside his grip instead of jerking it free. “See you around,”
she said, nodding, smiling harder.

Looking amused, he let go of her hand and
stepped back. “Yes, you will.” Nodding to Krista, he pivoted on his
comfy-looking leather shoes and strode away through the
redwoods.

When she was sure he was out of sight, Lucy
sighed loudly.

Krista whirled on her. “
See you
around
?”

“I didn’t like him.”

Gaping, Krista pointed off into the woods.
“He was totally hot.”

“He didn’t get my turnip joke.”

Her big gray eyes got bigger. “Are you
kidding?”

Lucy sighed again. “Do I seem too picky?”

“Oh, no. Totally reasonable. Turnips are
really important.”

“I’m not sure I could live with a guy who
didn’t laugh at my jokes.”

“Even the bad ones?” Krista shook her head
and started walking. “You’re hopeless. Come on, I’m cold and these
trees are dripping on me.”

They found the path to their cabins and
didn’t speak for a few minutes. Lucy regretted having told Krista
what she was thinking. Krista was so quick to overreact and jump to
conclusions.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try to like
him,” Lucy said finally. “Or that I couldn’t learn to like
him.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“How am I impossible? I’m capable of changing
my mind. You tell me I care too much about him laughing at my
jokes. I’m willing to consider you’re right. In the scheme of
things, if his other qualities add up, it won’t be a problem. But
it would be dumb to go into a long-term relationship without
knowing as many potential problems as possible.”

Krista kicked a bark chip off the path. “Very
romantic.”

“Since when is having your friends pick out
your spouse romantic?”

“Since you came to us for help, since we love
you and want you to be happy, since we’re in a totally gorgeous
place to witness our best friend getting married to a billionaire
out of a fairy tale.”

“There weren’t really billionaires in
fairy—”

“Shut up!” Krista stopped and buried her face
in her hands.

Lucy watched her for a minute. When her
shoulders began to shake, Lucy put her arm around her waist. Like
Fawn, Krista was almost six feet tall, and Lucy had to peer up at
her. “This isn’t about me, is it?”

Face still in her hands, Krista shook her
head. “I’d be happy for any of them. Any one of them.” She lowered
her hands, exposing the tears streaming down her cheeks. “My
neighbor. Huntley. Miles. Alex. Hell, even the guy driving that
golf cart. Why don’t any of them want me?”

This was a moment when Lucy wished she didn’t
hate lies so much. “I don’t know,” she said lamely.

“I’m thin and pretty and have nice clothes
and a real job and I’m friendly to everybody—”

“Hold it right there,” Lucy said. “For one
thing, your list is screwed. Take it from me, I know lists.”

“You don’t think I’m—I’m—”

“I wouldn’t want to be friends with the chick
you just described.”

A flash of anger displaced some of the
despair in her eyes. “How would you describe me, then? Fat, ugly,
and unemployed?”

“If you put on a hundred pounds, were
disfigured in a fire, and went on disability, what would you have
left?” Lucy held her arms and looked up into her face. “In addition
to me and Fawn and Betty and your family?”

The tears began to flow again. She blinked,
gazed into Lucy’s eyes. “What?” she whispered.

Lucy smiled. “Figure that out first. Then
worry about finding somebody to share it with.”

Her voice wavered. “I’m so lonely.”

Holding her tightly, Lucy nodded into her
armpit. “I know.” She patted her back. “Me too.”

* * *

Tuesday morning was as foggy as Monday had
been but colder, with a wind that reminded Miles of riding his
motorcycle over the Bay Bridge. Hiding out the day before had
refreshed him enough to venture out of his cabin, get some air,
interact with the rest of the wedding party. The hot tub had
soothed his muscles, Fawn had soothed Huntley, and he was ready to
admit that Huntley was right; it was past time to rebuild some
bridges with his father.

Perhaps not a bridge. An infrequent ferry
with one-way service. At least until he could get used to the
idea.

Huntley had recovered from his paralysis and
gone off hiking with Alex at dawn. Miles normally didn’t get out of
bed before nine unless he had to, certainly not during a vacation,
and had no desire to be in Alex’s company for a twenty-mile hike,
so he’d begged off. Shivering in his thick sweatshirt from the
short walk from his cabin to the lodge, he was glad he had.

He noticed her the moment he walked into the
lodge.

Curled up in a slipcovered chair in the
lodge, a laptop open in front of her, Lucy appeared deep in
thought. Since she didn’t see him, Miles paused near the door to
take the opportunity to study her.

She was in black again, though today’s
sweater was a turtleneck that covered that pointy little chin of
hers and set off her pale skin. And while she stared at her screen,
nose wrinkled with concentration, she nibbled on the hem of her
collar like a rabbit.

She was the cutest thing he’d seen in a long
time.

He wondered why she was in here working
instead of enjoying the free goodies at the spa. He wasn’t into it,
but most women were. Hell, he’s spent the entire afternoon the day
before soaking in the hot tub, drinking his way through the
mini-bar, having meals delivered to his cabin on a white tray.

Just as he was about to walk over and say
hello, Alex Sargeant came out of the small store in the back of the
building carrying a cloth grocery bag over one arm and two steaming
coffee mugs. He didn’t notice Miles, either because too many years
had passed or because his eyes were fixed on Lucy. She hadn’t
noticed either of them yet.