“What? I’m hungry.”

“Nice to see you getting a real breakfast for a change. Must have been working up an appetite with Mr. Mitchel last night, hmmm?” I teased, winking at Mimi over my orange juice.

The three of us were together for breakfast on a Sunday, something we hadn’t done since Tahoe. They’d been busily settling into the life of new coupledom with their recently switched boyfriends, which left me out most of the time. When they were dating the wrong guys they were always more than happy to have me along—the more the merrier they’d say. It helped when there was no real chemistry. But now? Mimi and Sophia were definitely with the right guys and enjoying every second of it.

Initially I’d been a little worried that the Parent Trap shenanigans would make things uncomfortable, but the ladies had made me proud. They took it in stride, and since each wound up with her new better half, all my worries went by the wayside.

We giggled as we got caught up on friendly gossip, waiting until the food arrived for any big news, as was protocol.

“Okay, who’s going first? Who has news?” Mimi began, and we settled into our ritual. Sophia paused from shoveling in the waffles, indicating that she would serve the first voll ey.

“Neil has to go to LA for a sportswriters in television conference, and he asked me to go with him,” she offered. Mimi and I nodded.

“Ryan is thinking of letting me reorganize his home office. You should see it—his filing system alone made me break out in hives,” Mimi reported, shuddering.

“Natalie Nicholson referred two new clients to me—Nob Hill, very posh, thank you very much,” I added, pouring myself more coffee from the carafe as they congratulated me.

We chewed.

“Neil talks in his sleep. It’s the cutest thing. He calls out football scores.”

“Ryan let me paint his toenails last night.”

“I told Simon I’d go to Spain with him.”

Here’s the thing about a spit take. In the movies, they’re hysterical. In real life, they’re just messy.

“Wait a minute, wait a goddamn minute…what?” Sophia sputtered, juice still dribbling down her chin.

“Caroline, you told him what?” Mimi managed, still choking as she waved the waiter over for more napkins.

“I told him I’d go to Spain with him. No big deal.” I grinned. It was a big deal indeed.

“I can’t believe you had the nerve to sit here and talk about random shit all morning and not tell us this. When did this happen?” Sophia asked, leaning forward on her elbows.

“The night I went on a date with James.” I smiled.

“Okay, that’s it. No more dicking around—spil it.” Mimi rounded on me with a butter knife and a frown.

“What the hell, Caroline? I can’t believe you kept all this from us. When did you go on a date with James? And don’t you dare leave anything out. Tell us everything now, or I’ll let Mimi loose on you!” Sophia warned. Mimi gestured again in a menacing way with her knife—in a very West Side Story menacing way, mind you. I imagined an actual fight with Mimi would involve hitch kicks and barrel turns…

Nevertheless, I took a deep breath and spilled. All of it. Why I went out with James, the feelings that had been percolating with Simon, how James called me a decorator, how I kicked him out. They listened intently, only interjecting occasionally when they needed clarification.

“I’m so proud of you,” Sophia said when I’d finished. Mimi nodded in agreement.

“For what?”

“Caroline, there was a time when if James told you to jump, you’d fucking jump. I guess we worried him showing back up in your life would take you back to being that girl again,” Sophia explained.

“I know you were worried. You’re both sweet, and no one will ever take care of me as well as you, even though you worry like old chickens in a henhouse.” I smiled at my fierce ladies.

“So you sent James Brown packing, and then what happened?” Sophia asked, and I finished the last of the story: Simon’s entry, his apology, the disappearing Purina, his invitation…

“So you just, had this epiphany in the bathroom, just like that? Go to Spain with Simon?” Mimi finally asked.

“Yep. I didn’t really overthink it. I just, I can’t explain it…I just know I should go on this trip. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to Spain, and I know he’ll be a good tour guide, and come on, how much fun will it be? We’ll have a blast together!”

“bullshit,” Sophia stated simply.

“Come again?”

“I call bullshit, Caroline. You’re going because you want something to happen there with him. Don’t deny it.” She eyed me severely.

“I deny nothing,” I quipped, signaling the waiter for our check.

“No more harem, huh?” Mimi asked.

“So it would seem. I’m not a fool. I know a man like him doesn’t change overnight, but if the Giggler is out of the way before Spain? Well, then, that’s a Simon of a different color, now isn’t it?” I grinned cheekily, wiggling my eyebrows at my girls.

“Why, Caroline Reynolds, I do believe you plan on seducing this man,” Sophia said, and Mimi clapped her hands with glee.

“Simon’s going to bring back the O!” Mimi cheered, attracting more than a little attention.

“Oh, hush. We’ll see. If, and this is a big fat if, ladies. If I ever allow anything to happen between Simon and me, it’s gonna be on my terms.

Which would include no harem, no drinking, and no hot tubbing.”

“I don’t know, Caroline. No drinking? I think it’d be criminal to be in Spain and not be indulging in a little sangria,” Mimi piped up.

“Well, I do enjoy me some sangria,” I mused. Visions of Simon and me, sipping sangria while watching the Spanish sunset. Hmmm…

Text between Simon and Caroline:

So are you the type of girl who wears

a big floppy hat on the beach?

Pardon me?

You know, those crazy giant beach hats? Do you have one?

As it happens, yes. Is this a concern of yours?

Concern, no. Just trying to get a visual of you

on the beach in Spain…

How’s that working out for you?

Pretty spiffy.

Spiffy? Did you just say spiffy?

I typed it actually. You got something against spiffy?

This explains the old records…

HEY!

I enjoy the old records. You know this…

I do know this…

Are we really going to Spain together?

Yep.

Are you home? I didn’t see the Rover this morning.

Checking up on me?

Perhaps… where are you, Simon?

Have a shoot in LA, driving back in a few days.

Can I see you when I get back?

We’ll see…

I’ll play records for you.

Spiffy.

“So, since things are all completed on the Nicholson project, I was thinking…since I have a jump on the commercial project I’m starting next, and you mentioned before that I could take some time off before we get busy for the holiday season, that, well, maybe I could…”

“Spit it out, Caroline. You trying to ask me if you can go to Spain with Simon?” Jill ian demanded, not trying very hard to hide her smile.

“Maybe.” I winced, dropping my forehead to the desk.

“You’re a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. You know I think it’s a good time to take vacation, so why should I tell you whether you should go away with Simon or not?”

“Jill ian, to clarify, I’m not going away with Simon. You make it sound like some ill icit affair.”

“Right, right, it’s just two young people off to enjoy a little Spanish culture. How could I forget?” Jill ian drawled, insinuation all over her face, as well as a little satisfaction. She was enjoying my squirming.