Free Flirting With Pete: A Novel by Barbara Delinsky Page B

have to work on that. And you and I both know that the best way to do that is to confront it. Confront him. Beard the lion in his den. And here’s his den.”
    “Will you sell your condo?”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far. I mean, we’re not necessarily talking a permanent decision. Staying here could be a totally temporary thing.”
    “How temporary? Providence can’t wait very long.”
    “Things happen for a reason,” Casey said as she lifted the phone. “If I go to the effort of setting up shop here, calling clients, starting over even for a little while, maybe I’m saying that I’m meant to be in Boston. Maybe my mother will wake up. Maybe Mr. Right lives here on the Hill and will see me if I hang out on the roof deck long enough. Maybe I want a clinical practice more than I want to teach.” She pulled up a number with her thumb and made the call. “If that’s so, maybe Stuart’s disappearance and John’s defection were in the cards all along.” With expectant eyes on Brianna, she waited for the friend she was calling to answer.
    “Hi, there,” said the voice on the answering machine. “It’s Joy. You got me at a bad time, so just leave a message and I’ll return your call.”
    At the beep, Casey said, “It’s me, and I’m sorry you’re not free, because plan A is for you to be right here, right now with Bria and me. Since you’re not home, we go to plan B. I’m throwing a move-the-office party tomorrow morning, and I need you there. We’ll be packing up Copley Square and moving to Beacon Hill, and the prize at the end is brunch in the Garden of Eden. So be at my office at nine tomorrow morning. I know it’s early, but, trust me, it’ll be fun. See ya then.” She was smiling when she ended the call, and quickly pulled another number from those programmed into her phone.
    “Brunch?” Brianna asked.
    Casey made the call. “Um-hmm.” She put the phone to her ear.
    “Your maid?”
    Casey nodded. “You should taste her omelets.” A movement at the office door caught her eye. “Here. Look.”
    Meg emerged with another tray. If the point was impressing Brianna, her timing couldn’t have been better.
    “Hi, Darryl,” Casey said when the phone was picked up. “You’re the man I need.”
    “Is this a romantic proposition?”
    “If it were, your wife would kill me.” Standing to get a closer look at the goodies on the tray as Meg approached, Casey said into the phone, “I need you both for tomorrow morning. Actually, I need your pickup truck.” She explained about moving as the tray settled on the patio table and two places were set. “Jenna will be delighted. She hated my group from the start.” Jenna, Darryl’s wife, had gone to grad school with Casey, Brianna, and Joy. “So it’s fitting she be there when I make the break. And there’s a treat at the end— brunch in a Beacon Hill garden.” The plates now held the chicken salad that Meg had mentioned earlier. It looked spectacular. “You’re gonna love this, Darryl. Hey, I have to run. It’ll be fun. Can you make it?”
    “Wouldn’t miss it,” Darryl promised.
    Ending the call, Casey focused on the table. The chicken salad was mounded on a bed of Bibb lettuce and was accompanied by cantaloupe crescents, carrot and raisin salad, and crusty bread with dipping oil. As if that weren’t enough, Meg was filling two glasses from a pitcher.
    “Tell me that’s fresh lemonade,” Casey ventured.
    Meg beamed. “It is. Dr. Unger liked fresh lemonade second to iced tea.”
    Casey was saved from reacting to that by Brianna, who said, “I love fresh lemonade.”
    So did Casey. She also happened to be thirsty. After taking a long drink from one of the glasses, she turned to Meg. “Here’s a question. If I were to have a dozen people over tomorrow between eleven and twelve, could you make us brunch?”
    Meg’s eyes lit with childlike enthusiasm. “I could. I used to work with a chef. We did brunch all the