Unsuitable Men by Nia Forrester Page B

with him is getting a so-called quick bite to eat,” Russell pointed out.
    Tracy looked at him but said nothing. It was true. There was no way to account for, or explain why she was feeling this giddy about seeing Brendan. All she knew was that she liked him more than she remembered ever liking any man, and more than that she liked the way he made her feel like a little girl who, when she was with him was totally safe; and like a sexy, desirable woman too because when he looked at her, he so obviously wanted her. It was an intoxicating combination and one that she was not accustomed to. Men who wanted her had never made her feel safe. In fact, often, it was strikingly the opposite.
    Russell followed her unselfconsciously into the fitting room, ignoring the raised eyebrow of the sales consultant, and Tracy smirked. Russell had probably seen her undressed more times than all her ex-boyfriends combined. It gave her a kick to sometimes be completely naked in her bedroom walking around getting ready for some event, curiously checking his package every now and again as he lay across her bed, waiting for her to get done. One time he’d caught her looking and rolled his eyes.
    Nope, he’d quipped. Still gay.
    “Did you ever tell Riley what happened that night?” Russell asked as he helped her with the zipper of her first selection, a cream Reem Acra pantsuit.
    “No. I was putting it at first and now it seems like it might be too late. She’d be pissed if I told her now, several days after . . .”
    “Well yeah ,” Russell said. “I don’t understand why you didn’t call her that day.”
    Tracy lifted her hair and turned in front of the mirror, checking out her derriere. She seemed to be losing it. Maybe a size two had been taking her diet and exercise routine too far.
    “Riley’s life is different now,” Tracy explained. “And when the baby comes it’ll be even more different. She’s thinking about babies and nesting and here I come with some seedy story about my one-night stand.”
    Russell nodded. “I know what you mean. You see I didn’t show up for that brunch baby shower thing she had. I mean, what the heck would I be doing out in Jersey oohing and aahing over silver rattles and shit?”
    Tracy laughed. “It actually wasn’t that kind of party. But I get your point. She hasn’t turned into some kind of Stepford Wife or anything don’t get me wrong. It’s just that she’s happy, y’know? And all my self-inflicted drama just doesn’t seem to . . . fit.”
    “Yeah but you were there for her drama. She at least deserves to have the chance to be there with you for yours.”
    “Oh shut up,” Tracy said reaching back to unzip the pantsuit. “I hate it when you’re all reasonable like that.”
    “She’s still at the condo, right? We could stop by and bring her a cup of coffee or something. Last time I talked to her, she told me woke up to find her precious Lamborghini espresso machine missing.”
    “Ah, the joys of obsessive love,” Tracy sighed. “I think her husband needs to be committed to a mental institution honestly.” She would never admit it out loud but she was beyond pleased that Shawn was taking such good care of her friend. If anyone deserved it, it was Riley.
    After settling on a Stella McCartney poplin dress with a very demure neckline and a very short skirt, she and Russell took a cab to Central Park West and Riley’s place. These days, you had to punch an elevator code to get to their floor, a security feature for which Shawn and the only other tenant on their floor had agreed to split the cost.
    Upstairs, Riley looked even bigger than she had been just the prior week and Tracy’s eyes involuntarily widened upon seeing her. Russell, never one to mince words, clapped a hand over his mouth.
    “Oh my god, girl, you are huge !”
    Riley rolled her eyes. “Yes. Thank you. I am well aware.”
    She hugged them both and made her way over to the sofa where she had clearly been camped out,