Lila studied her friend as she opened the wine. “You should come with me sometime—when it’s someplace fabulous.”
“I know, you keep saying.” Julie wandered as she spoke. “I’m just not sure I wouldn’t feel weird, actually staying in— Oh my God, look at this china. It has to be antique, and just amazing.”
“Her great-grandmother’s. And you don’t feel weird coming over and spending an evening with me wherever, you wouldn’t feel weird staying. You stay in hotels.”
“People don’t live there.”
“Some people do. Eloise and Nanny did.”
Julie gave Lila’s long tail of hair a tug. “Eloise and Nanny are fictional.”
“Fictional people are people, too, otherwise why would we care what happens to them? Here, let’s have this on the little terrace. Wait until you see Macey’s container garden. Her family started in France—vineyards.”
Lila scooped up the tray with the ease of the waitress she’d once been. “They met five years ago when she was over there visiting her grandparents—like they are now—and he was on vacation and came to their winery. Love at first sight, they both claim.”
“It’s the best. First sight.”
“I’d say fictional, but I just made a case for fictional.” She led the way to the terrace. “Turned out they both lived in New York. He called her, they went out. And were exchanging ‘I dos’ about eighteen months later.”
“Like a fairy tale.”
“Which I’d also say fictional, except I love fairy tales. And they look really happy together. And as you’ll see, she’s got a seriously green thumb.”
Julie tapped the binoculars as they started out. “Still spying?”
Lila’s wide, top-heavy mouth moved into a pout. “It’s not spying. It’s observing. If people don’t want you looking in, they should close the curtains, pull down the shades.”
“Uh-huh. Wow.” Julie set her hands on her hips as she scanned the terrace. “You’re right about the green thumb.”
Everything lush and colorful and thriving in simple terra-cotta pots made the urban space a creative oasis. “She’s growing tomatoes?”
“They’re wonderful, and the herbs? She started them from seeds.”
“Can you do that?”
“Macey can. I—as they told me I could and should—harvested some. I had a big, beautifu
l salad for dinner last night. Ate it out here, with a glass of wine, and watched the window show.”
“You have the oddest life. Tell me about the window people.”
Lila poured wine, then reached inside for the binoculars—just in case.
“We have the family on the tenth floor—they just got the little boy a puppy. The kid and the pup are both incredibly pretty and adorable. It’s true love, and fun to watch. There’s a sexy blonde on fourteen who lives with a very hot guy—both could be models. He comes and goes, and they have very intense conversations, bitter arguments with flying crockery, followed by major sex.”
“You watch them have sex? Lila, give me those binoculars.”
“No!” Laughing, Lila shook her head. “I don’t watch them have sex. But I can tell that’s what’s going on. They talk, fight, pace around with lots of arm waving from her, then grab each other and start pulling off clothes. In the bedroom, in the living room. They don’t have a terrace like this, but that little balcony deal off the bedroom. They barely made it back in once before they were both naked.
“And speaking of naked, there’s a guy on twelve. Wait, maybe he’s around.”
Now she did get the glasses, checked. “Oh yeah, baby. Check this out. Twelfth floor, three windows from the left.”
Curious enough, Julie took the binoculars, finally found the window. “Oh my. Mmmm, mmmm. He does have some moves. We should call him, invite him over.”
“I don’t think we’re his type.”
“Between us we’re every man’s type.”