Lauren Weisberger - Chasing Harry Winston

Her buzzer rang at exactly eight and Emmy braced herself for Otis’s imminent caw. Sure enough, he shook himself awake and squawked, “Who is it? Come on up! Who is it? Come on up!”

She sighed, slipped on her flip-flops, and headed for the stairs. The mechanism that allowed her to buzz people in was broken and although the building did have an elevator circa 1925, it had taken only one afternoon trapped inside it three years earlier to convince Emmy that the stairs were a much better option. She appreciated that Adriana and Leigh made the effort to come to her place twice a year or so-especially considering they lived in the same building and both had apartments that were significantly more comfortable than hers-but she just ended up feeling self-conscious about the size of her studio and guilty for subjecting everyone to a five-floor climb, after which they had to sit on the floor and endure a whole night of the hideous parrot’s insults.

“Hi!” she called cheerfully, forgetting her reservations when she swung open the building door and saw the girls sitting on her stoop. The air was warm for October, but it was filled with smoke. “Whoa! What do I see here?”

Adriana elbowed Emmy in the side and, grinning, motioned toward Leigh. “Check this out.”

Sure enough, Leigh was stamping out a cigarette as she exhaled a last plume of smoke.

“Leigh! What happened? You were doing so well!” Emmy cried.

“ Were being the operative word.”

“What happened?”

“Jesse Chapman happened,” Adriana sang with obvious pleasure.

The girls began the single-file trudge upstairs.

Emmy turned around and looked at her friends. “Why is your relapse Jesse Chapman’s fault?”

Leigh sighed melodramatically. “I always suspected you guys didn’t listen to a word I said.”

“Oh, save the drama,” Adriana said. “We listen to every single Chicken Little work-related melodrama of yours. It’s just lucky for us that Jesse Chapman happens to be a little more interesting than your usual lunatic authors.”

“Wait! Back to the ‘Jesse Chapman happened.’ What does that mean?” Emmy asked. They had finally reached her apartment; Emmy was pleased to see that even though her friends were both panting and breathless, she felt perfectly fine.

“Nothing happened. You make it sound like there’s something scandalous going on, which I assure you, there is not. He’s just a handful.”

Adriana smirked. “I’ll bet he is.”

Emmy motioned for the girls to claim a cushion and began pouring the red wine she had opened before their arrival. “Speaking of sex with strangers…”

Adriana squealed so loud that Otis began his own series of screams and caws and Leigh clamped her hands over her ears.

“Emmy! You didn’t!” Adriana said.

“Oh, but I did.” It felt so good to say those words, to watch the reactions on her friends’ faces. Between their trips to the Hamptons and LA, the entire month of September had vanished without a single chance to tell them face-to-face, but Emmy was glad she’d waited until now.

“Noooo,” Leigh breathed, looking up from her wineglass with a look of utter shock.

“Yeeeeeeeees,” Emmy sang gleefully.

“Fatty! Fatty! Fat girl!” Otis screeched. Adriana banged his cage with the back of her hand, which Otis immediately tried to bite.

“Tell us everything! Who was he? Where? When? How? Was it good? Is he the future father of your children?”

Emmy plopped on the floor and took a long sip of wine, savoring the attention.

“His name is George. He’s a law student at Miami. Obviously, I met him when I was visiting Izzie and Kevin. And it just sort of happened,” Emmy said, staring at her hands.

Adriana gave her a playful shove in the shoulder. “You are totally lying to us. Don’t you think, Leigh?”

“I believe she actually did the deed,” Leigh said thoughtfully, “but something’s not adding up. I don’t think we’re getting the real story.”

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” Leigh asked, leaning forward. “That’s it. You fell head over heels for this guy, and you’re already picturing him as your husband.”

Adriana nodded her agreement. “One hundred percent. Lawyer, friend of your sister’s, probably the nicest guy on earth. Well, I’m happy for you, honey. Not surprised, I have to say, but happy for you. However”-Adriana wagged her forefinger-“I would like us to recognize that I, as one-half of a committed relationship that I promise will be leading to an engagement in the next six months, have officially won our bet.”

“I’m a witness,” Leigh concurred. “And it’s true. I, too, am happy you met the guy of your dreams, Emmy, but you are handing the contest to Adriana.”

Adriana picked up a folder of take-out menus from the coffee table and began thumbing through them. “Let’s order now so it gets here in time for Grey’s . Sushi?”

“Wait just a minute,” Emmy said.

“Wait! Fat girl! Wait! Fat girl!” Otis cawed.

“I don’t know how you live with that repulsive creature,” Adriana said.

Emmy grabbed the folder from Adriana and then snatched the remote control from Leigh. She clicked off the TV and said, “I’d like your undivided attention, please.”

Leigh sighed. “Are you engaged? Please don’t tell me you’re marrying this guy already. ”

Adriana and Leigh cracked up laughing.

“I’ll have you both know that”-Emmy held up a finger-“one, I had completely random, attachment-free sex with someone I will never, ever see again.”

Pleased to see that this had gotten her friends’ attention, she continued. “And two, I liked it.”

This second pronouncement was met with silence, which Adriana finally broke. “You did?”

Emmy nodded. “And when I tell you he was inappropriate, I mean it.”

Emmy hadn’t known herself the full extent of what she’d done until the following morning, when she’d casually mentioned George’s name to her sister.

“Who?” Izzie had asked, scrambling eggs at the stove.

“A guy named George. I went down to the pool last night to call Leigh and he was there. We talked for a little while.” Pause. “He seemed nice enough.”

“George, George…I don’t know a George,” Izzie said.

“Maybe he’s new? Whatever, it’s not important.” Emmy had never withheld anything from Izzie before, but she just couldn’t bring herself to disclose what happened with George in light of her sister’s baby announcement. It just seemed so…so petty, somehow. Silly.

Kevin strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Who are we talking about?”

“Emmy met one of our neighbors last night by the pool. George. But I can’t figure out who he is.”

Kevin turned to Emmy and asked, “Law student?”

Emmy nodded. “Yeah, he said he was at Miami Law School.”

“Tall kid, decent-looking, always wearing mesh shorts?”

“That’s him,” Emmy agreed.

“Jorge! I wonder when he started calling himself George. Kid’s a legend around here.”

Something about the way Kevin kept saying “kid” was unnerving Emmy, and the whole legend bit didn’t sound so great, either.

“What do you mean?” Emmy asked, although she really didn’t want to know.

“Just such an unbelievable player. Literally a different girl every night, sometimes two. That guy has been with more girls at twenty-three than most men will in their lifetimes.”

Emmy froze, her OJ glass suspended in midair halfway between the table and her mouth. “Twenty-three?”

Izzie joined Emmy at the table and bit delicately into a piece of toast. “Yeah, he’s a baby. But the girls do love him.” She looked at Emmy with a strange look. “Why? Did something happen?”