“No way,” Ted says, wrapping his arms around me. He hates my negative self-talk. I kiss him on the lips to lighten the mood. I’m not going there. Vacation Margot is fighting her way to the surface.

“Some meat for Taurus?” I joke. “Oh, a gorgeous crystal water pitcher for Aquarius.”

“Are we allowed to have non-ovulating sex?” Ted nuzzles my neck.

“Later tonight, but it’s already after six and I don’t want to miss Adam and Aimee’s compatibility reading.”

“That will be some sort of magic trick,” Ted says.

I lace my hands through Ted’s and we walk downstairs together. I like to arrive fashionably late to social functions. Let guests have a glass of wine and mingle. Everyone’s a little more relaxed; they’re looking for someone new to chat with. It’s all joy, nothing forced or strained.

When we descend the spiral staircase and enter the grand living room, that’s exactly the scene in Stars Harbor. My brother’s leaning on the bar, swirling his red wine. Aimee and Farah are perched on the love seat, a bottle of rosé on a small table in front of them. Eden sits on a swivel chair, sipping a pink drink while rocking left to right with the heel of her boot. Rick stands behind her.

Rini sits in the center of the cream-colored circular couch, her back straight, her two feet planted firmly on the plush rug.

“There they are. Our first couple in the compatibility spotlight,” Rini says.

“I thought my brother was first.”

“I volunteered, but Adam’s in a mood,” Aimee says, glancing back at Adam. “We’ll go tomorrow. Besides, Rini gave me a preview earlier and she is good.”

Ted steps down to the sunken wooden floor and extends a hand so that I can land safely in my heels.

“A preview?” I ask.

“Rini was giving us the house tour and mentioned a few things. It wasn’t a big deal,” Farah says.

“It was so. She said we’re friendship soulmates and our bond will last a lifetime. How can you say that’s not a big deal?”

Rini pats the sofa next to her. Ted and I share an oversize cushion on the left side of the circular couch. A cocktail waiter appears and asks what we’d like to drink.

“Since you’re soulmates, maybe now you’ll stop using her as your lady doctor,” I say. I’m relieved the line lands with some humor, because I feel all sorts of judgy about their relationship and it’s hard to hide.

“Aimee’s not my patient,” Farah says, matter-of-factly. She sounded more defensive about the extra reading.

“I was in the hospital when you delivered Clara,” I say, confused.

“Yes, but once we became best friends postpartum, I suggested she move to another doctor in my practice. I haven’t seen Aimee professionally in over eight years.”

I study Aimee, who refuses to meet my eye. She sips her wine slowly, with great care. I know I’m not crazy.

“But you’ve said things to make me believe that she was still your doctor. You knew I thought it was… strange.”

Farah pulls Aimee’s wineglass away from her mouth to reveal a devious grin.

“You’re so naive sometimes, Margot,” Aimee laughs.

“From her chart, I’d say Margot is earnest,” Rini says. Her simple kindness shifts the energy in the room.

“And Aimee does enjoy making herself out to seem worse than she is. Her bark is louder than her bite,” Farah adds.

Adam places his wineglass on the bar with an ear-piercing clink. “Ha. Now who’s the naive one?” he says. Adam lets his barb land without acknowledging Farah and Aimee. Instead, he stares directly at me. His attention is comforting.

The server arrives with a tequila soda for me and an IPA for Ted.

“I’d say it’s time to get started,” Rini says. “Margot and Ted. Pisces and Aquarius. At first glance this might look like opposites attract, Aquarius being known as independent and ambitious, while Pisces are emotional and dreamy, but you are united by your hardworking, never-surrender Capricorn moons. It’s the exact right combination of qualities.”

“It’s worked for over a decade,” Ted says, rubbing my knee.

Ted and I met while I was a first-year associate at Gannett, Horvath, Swine & Moore. I’d crashed Adam’s annual Yale-alumni Manhattan bar crawl at Dorian’s after we’d wrapped a law firm event at Quality Meats. I was complaining to Adam that my graduating class didn’t do impromptu reunions when Ted interjected.

“If you want one, you should organize it yourself,” he said plainly.

“Margot, this is Ted,” Adam said.

I nodded at Ted and sipped my gin and tonic through a tiny black straw. I could see his impulse to shake my hand, perhaps the way his corn-fed father had taught him to do, or his favorite professor in school, but he wisely resisted. He had good awareness of social cues.

Adam was pulled away to the bar while Ted and I stood around the small high-top table. The music was loud, the crowd even more so.

“You look like the kind of woman who could make that happen if she wanted to,” Ted shouted.

“Well, I’m busy making many things happen, Ted, things bigger than a bar crawl.”

“Like?”

I leaned in close to him. I could smell his cologne over the mixed stench of bleach and alcohol in the bar. I inhaled so deeply it made me dizzy, but I never lost my train of thought. I exhaled out my answer.

“Being the youngest partner at my firm, and then a top rainmaker by fifty, after I settle in as a hot young wife and mother to four without slowing down one bit.”

“Ambitious and family focused, a rare combo,” Ted remarked.

“Is it?”

“Unless the kids are just a vanity play and you have no intention of spending time with them.”

“Four of them?”

“Good point. But maybe you’re excessive.”

From another man that might have been code for “too much,” but the twinkle in Ted’s eye told me it was a challenge. He dared me to be too much for him. He wasn’t going to scare easily.

“Family is everything to me,” I said.

“Well then, you pass all my criteria. I have met my match.”

“The question is, Have I?” I said, flirting. “Are you a lawyer too?”

“Investment banker. Morgan Stanley.”