as thought about walking more than a couple of carefully negotiated meters.
By the time they pulled up in front of the Waverly Inn, Emmy had texted each of them a half-dozen times.
‘Where have you been?’ Emmy hiss-whispered as the girls squeezed through the minuscule front door. She was leaning against the hostess desk and waving in their general direction. ‘They won’t even let me sit at the bar without you.’
‘Mario, such a bad boy!’ Adriana crooned, kissing a handsome man of indeterminate ethnicity on both cheeks. ‘Emmy is a friend of mine, and my dinner guest tonight. Emmy, meet Mario, the man behind the legend.’
Introductions and kisses – air, cheek, and hand – were exchanged before the girls were escorted to the back room and seated at a table for three. The restaurant wasn’t as jam-packed as it normally was since many of its usual revelers were in the Hamptons for Memorial Day weekend, but there was still plenty of opportunity for fantastic people-watching.
‘“The man behind the legend”?’ Emmy asked, rolling her eyes. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Men need to be stroked, querida. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to teach this to both of you. They sometimes require a gentle touch. Learn when to use a firm grip and when to cover it in velvet and they are yours forever.’
Leigh popped some Nicorette. ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’ She turned to Emmy. ‘Is she even speaking English?’
Emmy shrugged. She was used to the secrets Adriana tried to impart year after year. They were like pretty little fairy tales: fun to hear but seemingly useless in real life.
Adriana ordered a round of vodka gimlets for the table by grasping the waiter’s hand between her own and saying, ‘We’ll have three of my favorites, Nicholas.’ She sat back to survey the crowd. According to Adriana, it was still a little early – it wouldn’t start really buzzing until midnight or so, once all the first-timers and celeb-seekers left and the regulars could commence the night’s real drinking and socializing – but so far the crowd of thirtysomething media-and-entertainment types appeared happy and attractive.
‘Okay, girls, why don’t we just get it out of the way so we can all enjoy our meals?’ Emmy asked the moment Nicholas delivered their drinks.
Adriana returned her attention to her tablemates. ‘Get what out of the way?’
Emmy raised her glass. ‘The toast one of you will inevitably make that’s intended to remind me how much better off I am without Duncan. Something about how single is fabulous. Or how I’m young and beautiful and men will be beating down my door. Come on, let’s just do it and move on.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything so great about being single,’ Leigh said.
‘And while you most certainly are beautiful, querida, I wouldn’t say almost thirty is all that young.’ Adriana smiled.
‘I’m sure you’ll eventually meet someone wonderful, but men don’t seem to beat down anyone’s doors these days,’ Leigh added.
‘At least not the unmarried ones,’ Adriana said.
‘Are there any left who aren’t married?’ Leigh asked.
‘The gay ones aren’t.’
‘At least not yet. But probably soon. And then there won’t be anyone at all.’
Emmy sighed. ‘Thanks, guys. You always know just what to say. Your unending support means the world to me.’
Leigh broke off a chunk of bread and swirled it around the olive oil. ‘What does Izzie have to say about everything?’
‘She’s trying not to show it, but I know she’s absolutely thrilled. She and Duncan never exactly loved each other. Plus she’s obsessed with the idea that I – quote – “have trouble defining myself outside a relationship,” end quote. In other words, her usual psychobabble bullshit.’
Adriana and Leigh exchanged knowing looks.
‘What?’ Emmy asked.
Leigh stared at her plate and Adriana arched her perfect eyebrows, but neither said a word.
‘Oh, come on! Do not tell me you agree with Izzie. She has no idea what she’s talking about.’
Leigh reached across the table and patted Emmy’s hand. ‘Yes, dear, of course. She’s got a doting husband, loads of outdoor hobbies, and an MD. Did I forget anything? Oh, yes, she matched with her first choice for residency and is in the running for chief resident – a year earlier than expected. You’re absolutely right … she sounds tremendously ill-equipped to give a little sisterly advice.’
‘We’re getting off track,’ Adriana interjected. ‘Not to be the tactful one here, but I think Leigh was just trying to say that Izzie might have a point.’
‘A point?’
Adriana nodded. ‘It has been a rather long time since you’ve been on your own.’
‘Yeah, like always?’ Leigh added. ‘Not that that’s necessarily bad. But it does happen to be true.’
‘Wow. Anything else you two are just dying to tell me?’ Emmy clasped her menu to her chest. ‘Don’t hold back now.’
‘Well …’ Adriana glanced at Leigh.
‘Just say it.’ Leigh nodded.
‘I wasn’t really serious,’ Emmy said, her eyes wide. ‘There is something?’
‘Emmy, querida, it’s like the big white rhino in the room.’
‘Elephant.’
Adriana waved her hand. ‘Whatever. The big white elephant. You are almost thirty years old—’
‘Thank you for mentioning that yet again.’
‘—and you have only been with three men. Three! This is not to be believed, and yet it’s true.’
The girls quieted while Nicholas placed their shared appetizers on the table: an order of tuna tartare with avocado and a heaping plate of oysters. He appeared ready to take their order, but Emmy placed both hands atop her menu and glared. Defeated, he shuffled away.
‘You two are incredible. You sit here for twenty minutes telling me that I can’t be alone, and then you switch tacks – with no fair warning – and say that I haven’t dated enough people. Do you hear yourselves?’
Leigh squeezed a lemon wedge over the oysters and delicately removed one from its shell. ‘Not dated – slept with.’
‘Oh, come on! What’s the difference?’
Adriana gasped. ‘That, my darling friend, is exactly the problem. What’s the difference? Between dating and random sex? My goodness, we have much work to do.’
Emmy looked to Leigh for help but Leigh nodded in agreement. ‘I can’t
