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Malibu was a wreck of traffic at lunch. Supposedly, it was impossible to
get a table at Scopes, but I’d never had a problem. The parking lot of the
trendy Asian fusion place was full, but the valet guy promised to find a safe
spot for the Merc.
I looked for Ella and Mandy at the communal tables, but found them
sitting at one of the few separated from the crowd.
“Logan!” Mandy cried when she saw me, standing with her arms out.
“What an awesome surprise!”
I hugged her and—out of habit—bent down to kiss my wife, forgetting I
didn’t have to pretend in front of Mandy. Ella must have forgotten too,
because she kissed me back.
“Oh, you guys,” Mandy said, pointing from one of us to the other. “I
almost believe it.”
“What are you doing here?” Ella asked, ignoring our friend as I took a
chair.
“I have news, and I was hungry.”
The waitress came. I ordered something while she poured water for me.
“Okay?” Ella said. “So what’s the news?”
“Byron’s going to be out soon,” I said, picking up my water glass. “I
give it a month before Crowne is mine.”
“Yes!” Mandy exclaimed, lifting her wine.
Ella followed suit and we toasted.
“Congratulations, boss. You did it. You got what you wanted,” Ella said
sullenly.
Her tone hit me like a brick. She sounded like that a lot, and I thought it
was just how she was. Forty-five percent cynic. Thirty-five percent
pessimist. Twenty percent product of Los Angeles.
For the first time, I realized she wasn’t at some benchmark of happiness
I could improve incrementally. She was miserable, and I had the feeling it
wasn’t the fact that Papillion wasn’t hers.
“What?” Ella asked me when I’d stared too long.
“Nothing,” I replied. “Am I interrupting a girls’ lunch or something?”
“Mandy was about to tell me something.”
My friend’s smile turned as bright as her yellow blouse. “Well, I’m glad
you’re here. You both get to hear it.” Mandy sighed and gazed lovingly at