Chapter 3“So how was your weekend?” asked Margaux on Monday morning at the office.
“It was good,” I responded. “And yours?”
“Boring. I don’t have a rich boyfriend to show me a good time.”
You don’t know the half of it, I thought to myself, but instead I answered, “Why do you assume I spent the weekend with Jean Claude?”
“Because he picked you up at work Friday night.”
I had forgotten that, so intense had been the weekend. Searching for a way out, and to get her to stop asking so many questions, I just said, “We went to the D’Orsay. And then a little shopping.”
“Wow. What did he buy you?”
“Now why do you assume he bought me something?” I asked with some annoyance. The truth was, Margaux knew me quite well. She knew the answers to a lot of her questions about my relationships before s
