Dumping Billy by Olivia Goldsmith

this. “Yes. It’s lovely. Would you fasten it for me?”
    Michael leaned forward and fiddled with the tiny clasp. It took a moment, but at last he had it around her wrist. She stretched out her arm. “It looks very nice,” she said.
    “It looks great!” Michael said, and tucked her arm in his.
    Kate felt better than she had all day.

 
    Chapter Six
    B rice and Elliot met three years ago but had moved in together only in September. Brice’s stylish retro furniture in orange and lime green had taken precedence over Elliot’s collection of thrift shop purchases and off-the-street finds. Their two-bedroom apartment in a Chelsea brownstone near Kate’s had large windows in the living room overlooking a tiny backyard. An old refectory table was set before the windows, and despite their protests, Michael and Kate were given the chairs that faced the garden view.
    “The tulips are just over and the roses haven’t started, so it’s not at its best,” Brice said apologetically as he seated them; then he excused himself to bring dinner in from the kitchen. Kate noticed they were using Brice’s good glassware and Havilland china, and she was touched. Elliot brought in a wine cooler and set it on the oak credenza.
    “A coaster! A coaster!” Brice exclaimed, and slipped one under the crystal cooler. Kate suppressed a smile.
    In a few moments, dishes were being passed around. Elliot, standing, began to pour wine into the waiting goblets. Michael picked up his glass and almost ostentatiously set it upside down. “None for me, thanks,” he said.
    Kate winced. She should have seen this one coming. Michael didn’t drink at all, just said he didn’t like it. Given her father’s bad habits, it seemed a good trait to Kate, but she knew it wouldn’t go down well with Elliot. He prided himself on his wine cellar—even though it was actually in the linen closet—and he must have taken pains selecting this Pinot Grigio.
    “Don’t you drink?” Brice asked, his brows slightly raised. Kate could imagine the talk afterward: “Is he an alcoholic, is he in AA. No? Then he’s a control freak or a born-again Christian.” Oh, it would be endless.
    “I prefer to keep a clear head,” Michael answered.
    “Yeah. You never know when someone might need to see through it,” Elliot muttered beside Kate’s ear as he reached for her glass.
    Once all their plates were filled and the drinking crisis was past, they began on Brice’s famous appetizer: a beautiful, multicolored vegetable terrine. There was some cursory conversation, but the tension seemed thick in the air, especially between Elliot and Michael. Of course, Elliot was always very protective of Kate. And he had already registered his dislike of this accomplished and nice-looking new boyfriend. The fact that Michael was a bit priggish and overly fastidious wasn’t lost on Kate, but he did have other, compensatory traits.
    “There’s a good chance I’m going to get that Sagerman grant,” Michael said to Kate as they finished the first course. “I saw Professor Hopkins, and he told me that the committee discussions seemed to be very . . . well, promising.” Kate saw Elliot and Brice exchange a look. It was rude of Michael to ignore them, even briefly, but he was a single-minded academic.
    Kate held back a sigh. Even when she and Michael were alone, it was sometimes difficult to remember all the cards in his academic deck. Now, to make the conversation general it would be necessary to explain to the others about the Sagerman Foundation, Michael’s interest in a postdoctorate appointment, and his complicated relationship with his mentor, Charles Hopkins. It was the kind of thing that made a difference to a couple but didn’t make for good dinner talk.
    “Great,” Kate said.
    No one else spoke. Elliot refilled their glasses, and Brice passed around the second course. Kate looked at it and knew that her friends had spared no expense to impress Michael. This was Brice’s