The Ivory Room is brighter than I expected, all cream marble, pale velvet, brass fixtures, and enormous windows overlooking the city. I sit at the edge of a curved banquette with both hands wrapped around a coffee cup I have barely touched.
Vanessa Blackwell sits opposite me with effortless posture, one elegant hand resting beside her untouched espresso. She has the unnerving ability to look perfectly relaxed while making me feel as though I am attending an interview.
"Laura, you understand that this isn't a divorce support group."
Heat creeps into my cheeks.
"I gathered that."
Monica Vale immediately grins.
"Oh, good. She blushes. We're keeping her."
"Monica."
Vanessa doesn't even need to raise her voice.
"What? I'm being welcoming."
Beside her, Camille St. James swirls champagne in a delicate glass despite the fact that it isn't yet noon.
"She's right, actually. You are adorable when you're embarrassed."
My blush deepens.
>Laura Summers - Inner thoughts: Wonderful. I have known these women for twenty minutes and apparently my face has already become group entertainment.
Marisol Vega pushes a plate of pastries toward me.
"Eat something, sweetheart. They get worse when they're hungry."
"I'm beginning to suspect you're the safe one."
Marisol laughs warmly.
"Oh, absolutely not. I'm simply the one who feeds you first."
Despite myself, I laugh.
That is what draws me to them. Vanessa's certainty. Monica's shameless humor. Camille's glamorous refusal to apologize for enjoying herself. Marisol's warmth, so similar to my own instinct to care for people and yet somehow completely free of embarrassment.
I want that freedom.
Vanessa folds her hands.
"There is one thing we haven't discussed."
My stomach tightens.
"The membership condition."
Monica's smile becomes positively wicked.
"The fun part."
Vanessa ignores her.
"Everyone in our little circle has a younger companion. At least fifteen years younger. Boyfriend, girlfriend, lover, Sugar Baby—the label is less important than the relationship being real."
I stare at her.
"Real as in..."
"Active."
Camille smiles over the rim of her glass.
"Romantic. Sexual. Preferably both."
I nearly choke on my coffee.
"You're serious."
"Completely."
Marisol gives me a sympathetic smile.
"You don't have to prove anything to us, cariño. But yes, that is part of the club."
>Laura Summers - Inner thoughts: A younger lover. Of course. Naturally. Because apparently deciding to make friends after my divorce was too simple.
Vanessa studies me.
"If that makes you uncomfortable, say so."
I should.
Instead, someone comes immediately to mind.
You.
I think of your smile. The easy familiarity between our families. The way you speak to me without making me feel fragile or foolish. And, with considerably more embarrassment, the fact that sometime during the past year I started noticing that you are no longer simply my neighbors' child.
You are twenty-one.
An adult.
And very attractive.
"I..."
Four women watch me.
"I think I know someone."
Monica's eyebrows shoot upward.
"Oh, Laura."
Camille leans forward.
"Now this is interesting."
Vanessa's mouth curves into the smallest smile.
"Then perhaps you should ask them."
Two hours later, I am standing outside your front door holding a homemade peach pie like a shield.
>Laura Summers - Inner thoughts: This is absurd. I could still go home. I could eat the entire pie myself and tell them you said no.
I ring the bell.
The door opens.
There you are.
My prepared speech vanishes instantly.
"Hi."
Brilliant beginning.
"I, um... brought pie."
I hold it up unnecessarily.
"You look nice, by the way."
My mouth keeps moving before my judgment catches up.
"Very nice, actually."
Silence.
"I mean—not unusually nice. You normally look nice."
>Laura Summers - Inner thoughts: Stop talking, Laura.
I laugh awkwardly and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"Could we talk about something?"
Soon we're sitting over coffee and slices of pie, the familiar kitchen making this simultaneously easier and much, much worse.
I tell you what you already mostly know. Our families have lived beside each other for years. I've watched you leave for college, come home for holidays, grow into someone I still sometimes instinctively think of as the neighbor kid before remembering you aren't a kid anymore.
Then I talk about the divorce.
"It has been almost a year now."
I trace one fingertip around my coffee cup.
"I thought once it was over I'd suddenly become very... independent. Social. Exciting."
I smile ruefully.
"It turns out apparently you don't automatically receive a new personality with the divorce papers."
I explain that my marriage left me isolated. That my ex had opinions about practically everything I did until I stopped having many opinions of my own. That meeting strangers still feels terrifying.
"So I've been trying to make friends."
I take a breath.
"And I found a group."
Your expression encourages me to continue.
"They're divorced women. Successful women. Confident women."
I hesitate.
"They call themselves the Cougar Club."
There. Said aloud, it sounds even more ridiculous.
"It isn't exactly a book club."
I feel my cheeks warming again.
"To become a full member, you're supposed to be seeing someone at least fifteen years younger."
I force myself to meet your eyes.
"A younger romantic partner. A Sugar Baby, basically."
I rush onward before courage abandons me.
"They aren't asking me to pick up some stranger in a bar. But that's exactly the problem. I don't want a stranger."
My hands tighten around the mug.
"I thought about who I actually trust."
I swallow.
"And I thought about you."
>Laura Summers - Inner thoughts: Say it. Just say it.
"I know this is probably strange."
I laugh nervously.
"And you can absolutely say no. I won't be angry, and I won't make things awkward with your family."
My heart is pounding.
"But I have the money to spoil someone a little. Dinners, gifts, trips, whatever we're both comfortable with."
I take another breath.
"And I'm attracted to you."
The words leave me so softly that I nearly wish you hadn't heard them.
But you did.
"So..."
I finally look directly at you.
"Would you be willing to help me become a member of the Cougar Club?"
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