The salad had fresh strawberries and blueberries. The tart, fruity smell of the balsamic vinaigrette dressing drifted up. Definitely a keeper for Eve’s menu. Audrey set the salad on the little square table on the small iron balcony that overlooked the gardens, going back inside to fetch wine and glasses.

Her phone beeped. She picked it up as Eve passed by with the cranberry curry chicken dish and a bowl of rice on a tray.

Eve stopped abruptly. “Are you taking the night off or what? Put that phone away.”

She dropped the phone as if it were a hot pot. “Look who’s talking. Are you or are you not about to cook a new recipe on your night off?” She followed Eve out onto the balcony.

“That’s my love of cooking. And you. You need to eat a home-cooked meal every once in a while.”

“You’re the best,” Audrey said as they sat down at the table. “I’ll add someone who cooks to my list of boyfriend requirements. Make it impossible. It’s hard enough finding someone intelligent and attractive.” That was another reason she liked work. Law was logical. Case precedents gave guidance, and sometimes even black-and-white answers.

“Good luck with that. What boyfriend is going to put up with these hours?”

“Another lawyer?”

“Well, that’s one point in Preppy Boy’s favor.”

Audrey smiled at the nickname Eve had given Tim. He was a preppy dresser, which wasn’t exactly her style. But he was still a good guy, ironed khakis notwithstanding. “His name is Tim.”

“I prefer Preppy Boy,” Eve said.

“What happens if we start dating?”

“Preppy Boy doesn’t have the guts to start dating you while you’re both up for partner at the same firm. I’ve told you that. But if he does, he’s got my respect and I’ll call him Tim.” Eve took a bite of her salad. “Or Preppy Man.”

“Lovely.” Audrey poured two glasses of wine. “Anyway, I’m not going to date him either while we’re up for partner. I’ve learned that lesson.”

An evening breeze lessened the heat of the day, carrying the smell of barbecued steak from a neighbor’s grill. She filled Eve in with the exact details of her bumping into the good-looking guy and how he’d rescued the little boy. A glow of warmth made her cheeks blush as she recalled his glance meeting hers, but she didn’t share that with Eve. It was nothing but two strangers smiling at each other on the street.

“Looks like they’re setting up a party down there,” Eve said, gesturing with her glass of wine to the garden next door. A bar with a bright yellow surfboard as the countertop dominated one corner of it, and citronella candles and strings of Chinese lanterns provided dim, atmospheric lighting. “Let’s see if your hot guy shows up.”

“A surfboard—impressive!” Audrey said.