“Well,” I say. Regrettably, I’m beginning to sober up already. “I’m sure she’s just trying to keep afloat. From what she says, the girl who had the job before her kind of left everything in a huge mess. She told me it would be months before she got it all straightened out.”

“Yeah,” Chaz says. “She told me that, too.”

“So,” I say. “You should be proud of her. She’s helping to make a difference.” Unlike me. And, I want to add, Chaz, who is only working on his Ph.D., after all. Although when he gets it, he intends to teach. Which is admirable. I mean, molding young minds, and all. Certainly more than I can say I’ll ever be doing.

But young girls, they do get weary…

Okay, I totally have to stop thinking of that song all the time.

“I am proud of her,” Chaz says. “I just wish she could help make a difference fewer hours of the day, is all.”

“Aw.” I smile at him. “You’re sweet. You wuv your girlfriend.”

He shoots a sarcastic look at me. “Maybe you do have a personality disorder,” he says.

I laugh and take a swing at him, but he ducks.

“What about you and Luke?” he wants to know. “I mean, aside from the shameful secret you’re keeping from him—about your abject poverty—how are you two getting along?”

“Great,” I say. I think about asking him what I should do about Luke’s mom. The guy who’d called—the one with the accent—had left another message, sounding wounded that Bibi hadn’t shown up to their meeting. Again, he didn’t leave a name, but again, he’d mentioned their standing appointment, and that he’d be waiting.

I’d erased the message before Luke got home from class. It just didn’t seem to me like the kind of thing a guy would want to listen to. About his mother, that is.

Of course, I was considering the fact that I hadn’t blabbed the whole thing out to Luke anyway the minute he walked through the door a sign of my newfound maturity and ability to keep my mouth shut.

The fact that I’m not blabbing it to Chaz now is even further proof of my incredible New York sangfroid.

Instead I say to Chaz conversationally, “I’m still doing the tiny woodland creature thing, and it seems to be working.”

Chaz blinks at me. “The what?”

And I realize, belatedly, that I’ve been lulled into a false sense of comfort by his easygoing nature… so much so that I’ve started talking to him about stuff I normally reserve for Shari’s ears only! What am I doing, talking about my woodland creature theory with another GUY? Worse than just another guy—my boyfriend’s best friend?

“Uh, nothing,” I say quickly. “Things are fine with Luke.”

“What’s the tiny woodland creature thing?” he wants to know.

“Nothing,” I say again. “Just—nothing. It’s a girl thing. It’s not important.”

But Chaz totally won’t let it go. “Is it a sex thing?”

“Oh my God!” I cry. “No! It’s not a sex thing! God!”

“Well, what is it then? Come on, you can tell me. I won’t tell Luke.”

“Oh, right,” I say with a laugh. “I’ve heard that before—”

Chaz looks wounded. “What? Have I ever ratted you out to any of your boyfriends before?”

I glare at him. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before. At least, not one who wasn’t gay or using me for my money. Back when I had some money, I mean.”

“Come on, just tell me,” Chaz says. “What’s it mean to do the tiny woodland creature thing? I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“Just… ” I can see I have no choice but to tell him. Otherwise, he’s never going to let it go. And with my luck, he’ll bring it up in front of Luke. “It’s just this theory I have, all right? That guys are like tiny woodland creatures. And to lure them in, you can’t make any sudden moves. You have to be subtle. You have to be cool.”

“Lure them in to do what?” Chaz asks, seeming genuinely not to know. “You’ve already got Luke. I mean, you’re living together. Although I still don’t understand why you can’t tell your parents that’s what you’re doing. They’re going to find out it isn’t Shari you’re sharing your place with eventually. Don’t you think the fact that you have an address on Fifth Avenue is going to make them a little suspicious?”

I roll my eyes. “Chaz. My parents don’t know from Fifth Avenue. They’ve never been to New York. And you know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I really don’t. Enlighten me?”

“You know,” I say. Because he’s clearly never going to let it go. “Get them to commit.”

“Get them to… ” Comprehension dawns across Chaz’s face. Comprehension combined with what appears to be a healthy dose of horror. “You want to marry Luke?”

I have no choice but to lift up one of the gold cushions and hurl it at him in fury. “Don’t say it like that!” I yell. “What’s wrong with it? I love him!”

This time Chaz is too stunned to duck. The cushion bounces off him, nearly overturning his empty gin and tonic glass, already teetering precariously on the uneven floor.

“You’ve only known the guy like three months,” he cries. “And you’re already thinking about marriage?”

“Oh, what?” I can’t believe this is happening. Again. Why did I open my big mouth? Why can’t I ever keep anything to myself? “Like there’s some kind of correct time frame in which you’re supposed to decide these kinds of things? Sometimes you just know, Chaz.”

“Yeah, but… Luke?” Chaz is shaking his head in disbelief. This is not a good sign. Considering Luke is his best friend. And he probably has insider information.

“What about Luke?” I demand. But I’ll admit it, even though I sounded cool about it—to my own ears, anyway—my heart was beginning to race. What was he talking about? Why did he have that expression on his face? Like he’d just smelled something bad?

“Look, don’t get me wrong,” Chaz says. “I think Luke’s a great guy to hang out with and all. But I wouldn’t marry him.”

“No one is asking you to,” I point out. “In fact, in most states, that would be illegal.”

“Ha, ha,” Chaz says. Then he clams up. “Listen. Never mind. Forget I said anything. You go on forest-creaturing him, or whatever it is. Have fun.”

“Woodland,” I say. Now my heart isn’t just racing. It feels like it’s about to explode out of my chest. “Woodland creature. And tell me what you mean. Why wouldn’t you want to marry Luke? I mean, aside from the fact that you’re not gay.” And that he hasn’t asked. Me, I mean.

“I don’t know.” Chaz looks uncomfortable. “I mean, marriage is pretty final. You have to spend the rest of your life with the person.”

“Not necessarily,” I say. “I think your father’s built himself a pretty lucrative career proving that this isn’t always the case.”

“That’s what I mean, though,” Chaz says. “If you pick the wrong person, it can end up costing you hundreds of thousands of dollars. If my dad’s firm represents you, I mean.”

“But I don’t think Luke is the wrong person,” I explain to him patiently. “For me. And I’m not saying I want to get married to him tomorrow. I’m not an idiot. I want to be established in my career before I start having kids and all of that. And I told him the whole moving-in-together thing was on a trial basis and all of that. I’m just saying that, if things work out, when I’m thirty or so, marrying Luke would be very nice.”

“Well,” Chaz says. “That’s fine, I guess. But I’m just saying, a lot of stuff can happen in the six years before you turn thirty—”

“Seven,” I correct him.

“—and that if you guys were horses, and I were a betting man, Luke’s not the horse I would bet on to come in first. Or at all, for that matter.”

I shake my head. My heart has slowed down. It’s clear Chaz doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s talking about. Not bet on Luke? What is he talking about? Luke is the most fantastic person I’ve ever met. What other guy does Chaz know who’s memorized every song on the Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers album by heart—and frequently sings them in the shower—on key? What other guy does Chaz know who can take oil, vinegar, some mustard, and an egg, and make the most delicious salad dressing I’ve ever tasted? What other guy does Chaz know who was willing to give up his lucrative salary as an investment banker to go back to school to become a doctor, and help heal sick children?