The studio is warm and my hands are beginning to slip on the textured mat as I exhale deeply, returning my body to downward facing dog.  My mind keeps drifting away from my practice and I can’t seem to wash away the memory of what happened the other night.

Eric’s behavior surprised me. It’s almost like he had done that sort of thing before. Maybe he just did it to please me. Maybe I’m just blowing things out of proportion. I should just let it go. It was fun, but it should never happen again.

My face flushes hot at the thought now. Why did I let the situation get so out of hand between me and Melissa? I knew things would be awkward after, but it’s as if she has completely forgotten. As if it never happened. She walked right past me on my way into the studio this morning. What a bitch.

Christophe is wearing a pink cashmere sweater and turquoise skinny jeans with penny loafers. I throw a hooded sweatshirt over my yoga tank as he joins me at the end of the lunch counter.

“Two green smoothies, please.” Though I hardly need to order. We come here all the time.

“So, I’m dying to know—what happened at the sex toy party?”

I blush and turn toward the counter, pretending to watch them load the high-powered blender with organic spinach leaves and fresh kiwi and pineapple.

“Oh, you know how those cheesy parties go…nothing, just a bunch of horny women drinking cosmos and shopping for dildos.”

But he knows something is up. We have been friends for years, ever since Eric opened the gallery. Christophe knows me better than anyone, and sometimes better than I know myself, it seems.

We were instantly drawn to one another. Fun loving and flirtatious, Chris is the closest thing to a girlfriend I have ever known. When it comes to fashion, he is ruthlessly honest, never hesitating to offer a gentle style tip, exalting over his impeccable taste.

When it comes to our personal lives, we share a special bond, confiding our joys and our troubles with full disclosure, in fact sometimes Chris spills a little more information than I really need to know.

Today, though, I feel uncharacteristically withholding about what happened. And I feel a little sad that I can’t share this particular story with my best friend.

My eyes betray my secret, however, when Melissa walks in, looking freshly fucked and freshly showered. And she’s not alone.

“Two for lunch?”

“Somewhere in the back, please…” I recognize his discreet murmur.

The hostess leads them around the corner and out of sight. They don’t notice us, but my eyes are burning a hole through the back of Eric’s head as I watch him from across the cafe.

To be continued…