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wine.
    “Brad? He’s okay.” I took a gulp, looked up at her inquisitive eyes, and then took another gulp.
    “That’s it. Just, he’s okay?”
    “Yep. We ’ ll see how long he lasts. Those women will run right over him. I give him three months, tops.”
    “Hmmm. He is a nice-looking guy, though. Very charming.”
    “When did you meet him?” I reached for another cracker and smeared it with a generous helping of raspberry Brie.
    “Mr. Vanderbilt brought him by after showing houses yesterday. He was quite the gentleman. Very polite, which I think is rare these days.”
    “Well, I’m not interested. He’s not my type.”
    “Who is your type? Not Jonathan Morro?”
    Jonathan Morro was my last boyfriend. He’s a pop singer with a folksy sound. He has a reputation as a lady killer with a huge ego. While he was dating me, he was also seeing pop star Jessica Blakely behind my back and who knows how many other women. Snake.
    “No. Jonathan was a weak moment. Besides even though we dated – and I use that term loosely – for six months, I saw him about four times in those six months. The rest of the time he was seeing Jessica and who knows who else.”
    “Right. So you and Brad have two things in common.” Venus took the steaks out of the oven. They were sizzling with caramelized onions and mushrooms. The smell was heavenly.
    “What’s that?”
    “For one, you’re both workaholics. And two, you’re both Cancer signs.”
    Leave it to Venus to know Brad’s birthday. She’s big on astrology and believes in dating within your sign.
    “What am I waiting for, then? We should get married right away. He’s a Cancer sign. It’s a perfect match.” I clapped my hands together.
    Venus put the steaks and homemade mac and cheese on plates and carried it to the outside terrace. Her ten-thousand-square-foot mansion had fabulous views of the city. The sun was setting in brilliant hues of red, orange, and yellow. It was a fabulous way to cap off the day.
    “Okay, Ms. Smarty Pants. Let’s eat.”
    I swear I’d never tasted a steak that good in my life. I didn’t need a knife. The steak was so tender it cut through like butter with my fork.
    “Oh my goodness, this is sooo yummy. What does Mabel do to these steaks?”
    “She rubs them down with a secret spice mixture, puts them in a plastic bag overnight in the fridge, takes them out the next day, and whispers sweet nothings to them before shoving them in a hot oven to broil for a bit,” Venus said. “Seriously.”
    “Mmmm,” I said with my mouth full. “She should call these better-than-sex steaks.”
    “I’ll let her know.”
    I looked over at Venus’s plate. She had only taken two bites of her food.
    “What’s wrong with you? You’ve barely eaten anything.”
    “I had a big lunch,” Venus said, looking out over the terrace.
    I may not have known Venus very long, but I could tell when she was lying.
    “You want to talk about it?”
    “Mr. Vanderbilt is seeing someone else.”
    “What?” That stunned me. I almost choked on a piece of steak.
    I couldn’t imagine Mr. Vanderbilt cheating on her. He seemed so…so business-like. Cold. The few times I’ve seen him, he was distant. I never could see why Venus was attracted to him. She was vibrant and outgoing, although a little reserved with her private life. I thought maybe he was just a tiger in the bedroom or something.
    “I don’t know who, but I do know that he’s seeing someone.”
    “How do you know?”
    “He’s been working later hours, never home for dinner. And when he does come home, he heads straight for the shower.” Venus poured us another glass of wine. “His clothes smell of cheap cologne.” She shuddered at the thought.
    “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”
    “Hire a private detective.”
    “Wow. Here I am going on about my problems with the new doctor and my insane patients, and Mr. Vanderbilt is cheating.”
    “It’s okay, darling. It’ll sort itself