by Nadia Lee
Elliot pads over, his bare feet quiet on the floor, and takes my wine. “Finally. Belle thought you might have decided not to join us.” His hair is damp, his cheeks slightly flushed. I’d put money on his having used the pool on the upper deck recently. If he could be reborn as anything, it might be a dolphin. He’s put on a white T-shirt and loose, long pants instead of his usual shorts. He shouldn’t have bothered. Just because I choose to wear slacks in the summer doesn’t mean everyone has to.
“Bad traffic, and I’m not that familiar with the roads here.”
“No GPS?”
“It’s only marginally useful. Doesn’t account for the horrible drivers on the road.”
Belle comes out from the kitchen with a platter of Chinese food and places it on the dining table. She’s dressed in a wintry gray dress with an uneven hemline that flatters her curvy body. A string of pearls circle her elegant neck, and more pearls drip from her ears. Like Elliot, she’s barefoot, and I spot a pair of white suede pumps in a small nook between the couch and dining room.
“I hope you don’t mind takeout. But we did put it on real china.” She comes over and gives me a quick hug.
I squeeze her back then let go. “Elliot promised me a home-cooked meal.”
He jabs me in the ribs. “I promised no such thing.”
Belle laughs. “It’s really my fault. I came home late from work.”
“What do you do?” I’m ninety-nine percent certain she isn’t still working at the strip joint where she met my brother.
“OWM. I’m an assistant to one of the fund managers.” My shock must be obvious because she chortles. “What did you think I was doing these days?”
“Uh…shopping?” Oh, good. That’s real smooth. “I had no idea. Sorry.”
She shrugs with a small smile. “I did come with a colorful history, so I can’t really fault you. Tell you what. Let’s toss our assumptions and actually get to know each other.”
Elliot wraps his arm around her. “Told you she was awesome.”
I smile. “Lucky bastard.”
You could’ve had that…if Ava hadn’t found out.
I stop the thought before it can grow into something malignant. I could’ve never had what they have. Ava never loved me the way Belle clearly loves Elliot. I know my twin. He isn’t the easiest man to live with—and has had his share of scandals, several of them having come out since their marriage. She loves him enough to overlook them all. Ava can’t tolerate any flaws on my part, and I’ll never be perfect enough for her.
Shoving the ugly thoughts aside, I follow my brother and his wife to the table. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself or resent the happiness they have. They’ve earned it. From what I was able to piece together from Blake, she almost died from getting tangled up with Elliot.
“Where’s your sister?” I ask once we’re seated.
“Nonny’s out. She apparently couldn’t cancel her evening out with her friends.” Belle frowns.
I shrug. “Let her have her fun. We can see each other later.”
Belle passes around egg rolls, while Elliot wrestles with the Merlot I brought and serves us. I note he doesn’t offer his wife a glass, and the thought comes again: a recovering alcoholic?
“Sweet and sour sauce?” Belle offers.
I nod my thanks, drizzle some over my egg rolls and bite into one. It’s crisp and perfectly cooked. “Anybody else coming? Ryder?” Ryder and Elliot are tight.
“He’s in the Maldives with Paige at the moment.”
“The Maldives? Isn’t she a little too pregnant for that kind of trip?”
“You would think, but he’s determined to keep her away from the pressure-cooker media. It’s been rough on her.”
I shake my head. “He should’ve thought that before knocking her up.”
“They’re married, so it’s all good. Besides, there’s never a perfect time for kids.”
“Poor Paige.” Belle shakes her head. “I wonder if she knew how it was going to be. People seem to think I’m interesting because of my marriage. I can’t imagine what it must be like for her.”
“Thankfully Paige is smart, and she’s seen media circuses while working for Ryder,” Elliot says.
“There is a difference between seeing and actually experiencing it yourself.” I serve myself some spicy beef and Chinese meatballs. “So. When are you guys going to start a family?”
“Not until I finish college and maybe get settled in my career.”
I regard her. “You haven’t finished?”
She flushes. “Not yet. I had to take time off, but I’m ready to go back.”
“Good for you,” I say even as I give Elliot a “what the hell” look.
My brother stares back at me blankly. Ugh. Women do not enjoy working. He should’ve made it clear she could stay home and spend her time pampering herself. It’s ridiculous for her to go back to school or get a job…much less a career.
“What field are you thinking of?” I ask, just to be polite.
“Something in financial services, maybe. I want to help people plan for big events in life—buying homes, having kids, college, retirement and so on.”
Elliot toys with her unbound hair. “I’m sure you’re going to be amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
He gazes into her eyes with a naked adoration that seems more intimate than sex. I look away and drain my wine.
After we finish our meal, Belle gets a call she has to take from her boss, so Elliot and I go to the balcony. The November evening breeze is refreshingly cool as it brushes over us, and the traffic below our feet flows like glowing rivers of diamonds and rubies.
“Did you really mean what you said at Blake’s place?” Elliot asks.
“About what?”
“Marriage.” His brows pull into a deep V. “You and Ava…”
“It’s over. I’m marrying Faye.”
“Faye? Faye Belbin?”
I nod. “Haven’t told her yet, but she’s the best candidate.”
“Huh. From the way you reacted when all that crap came out about Annabelle Underhill, I thought you cared about Ava.”
“Yeah, well… It wasn’t mutual.”
“Ah, jeez. Sorry to hear that.”
I shrug with false nonchalance. “It’s better this way. No false expectations. I would’ve wanted everything.”
“Well, it’s too bad you have to settle like this. I wish you could’ve found and kept the right woman.”
“Didn’t you specifically choose her”—I glance inside—“for shits and giggles?”
He nods. “It started out as something to humiliate Dad, but now it’s more.”
“I can see that.”
“If you’re going to choose Faye, you guys should date a little first.”
“Date? What for?”
“We’ve been trying to convince the world the article about the deal is fake. I think Ryder did a pretty good job—besides, the shallow types can’t believe he would marry a girl like Paige for anything other than love—and I did okay, too. If you marry Faye too abruptly, it’ll look like the article had some truth to it.”
I sigh. The last thing I want to do is waste my time “dating.” Faye already knows what the deal is, and she isn’t the type who wants flowers and sweet words.
“A couple of weeks should do it. You two do have history together, after all.”
Elliot’s advice is sensible, so I nod. I don’t want to cause problems, even for Elizabeth. Being pretty and in the spotlight equates to stalkers galore, and as annoying as she is, I don’t want her to have issues with a bunch of creeps.
“Here’s something I want you to consider, though,” Elliot says. “If you have a chance to undo the damage and get Ava back the way you want…then take it. Even if it means no portraits.”
I stare at my twin. “The whole point of this is to get the portraits.”
“Is it? You were with Ava for a painting?”
I look away. Grandpa’s legacy was n
ever a factor.
“Dad’s making us dance to his tune because he can. That doesn’t mean we should give up a chance for lifelong happiness for this bullshit. We don’t even know what crap he’s going to come up with to renege.”
“You really think he’d do that?”
Elliot laughs. “In a heartbeat. Would you put it past him?”
I shake my head. Dad would love to find a loophole to deny us just out of spite. “For all we know, he might’ve built something sneaky into the deal when he offered it in the first place.”
“I know. That’s why the least we can do is be happy. He hates that more than anything.”
I regard my brother. “When did you figure all this out?”
“When I thought I was going to lose my wife. It’s amazing how pure terror can cut through all the bullshit you’ve been telling yourself.”
I take a longer look toward the penthouse. “Belle must be one of a kind to make you fall so hard.”
“I was damn lucky. But there’s one for you, too.”
I smile. Let Elliot believe that.
Chapter Sixteen
Ava
“Why are you still up?” Bennie’s voice comes loud and clear through the laptop speaker. We’re on Facebook, chatting without the video. I don’t think he’s going to want to see my hideous face with huge, dark circles under my eyes.
“Because I’m working,” I say as I type another email to be sent out before I go to bed. Normally I wouldn’t be talking with him this late while trying to work, but I need some help staying up. My head feels like it’s full of wet, heavy cotton, and my joints ache from hours of hunching over my laptop.
“Isn’t it, like, one a.m. there?”
“A quarter after, but thankfully I’m home, so I can work in my PJs.” And no bra or shoes. My small dining table is enough space, and I can munch on chips and drink herb tea to my heart’s content.
Bennie harrumphs. “For your real boss or That Bastard?”
“It’s for Lucas.”
“Uh-huh. The Bastard.”
I sigh, but don’t say anything. If my best friend wants to vent about the way Lucas and my relationship fell apart, I’m not going to get in the way. Nothing can stop him when he’s on the warpath anyway, and my brain can barely focus on writing the emails and following the conversation. I don’t have the energy for more. Less than five hours of sleep per night for over a week is hell.
“Why don’t you tell your manager you’re overworked? You’ve been up until at least one ever since The Bastard started bossing you around.”
“There is no way I’m telling Robbie.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s payback from Lucas. He wants to see me fail because he thinks I set him up in Charlottesville. And I’m not giving him the satisfaction.”
“My God, how stupid is he? Does he not understand you were doing it to show him it was hopeless between the two of you?”
I purse my lips for a moment. “Well…I’m sure his pride was hurt.”
A loud snort. “Oh, his pride. Like he hasn’t stomped on yours over and over again. You should tell that fucker you can’t slave away to please him because you have a date. With a super-normal, super-nice guy named Jon.”
I suppress a second sigh. I told Bennie about Jon, and now my best friend’s decided I should marry him. I think Jon’s pretty great, too, but my feelings are on the platonic side. I just don’t think about him the way I should if I’m going to try for something more than friendship. But that’s not what Bennie wants to hear, and I’m too tired to argue. So instead, I say, “It’s only for a few weeks. Then I’ll be back to my normal schedule with Robbie. At least the work I’m doing is meaningful. I wish you could see the medical center, Bennie. It’s awesome, really modern and nice. Nobody’s turned away—it’s strictly to provide for people in need.”
If we’d had a hospital like that when we were growing up, our lives might’ve turned out differently. Bennie’s alcoholic dad could’ve gotten help for his addiction…and counseling for anger management. My mom could’ve gotten help to deal with her despair…and maybe she wouldn’t have ended up turning to alcohol and drugs to avoid facing the fact that she’d lived a life of lies.
“I’m proud of you for making a difference,” Bennie says. “It’s exactly the kind of work I imagined you doing after you finished teaching English in Japan.”
“Yeah, me too.”
My phone pings next to my laptop, and I check the screen. It’s a Google alert.
Beauty and the Beast. Budding Romance?
I bite back a pained gasp. I should get used to headlines like this, but I can’t. Every new link is like a fresh slice through my heart.
The latest article is about sightings of Lucas and Faye, who are now apparently dating in earnest. The photos include them dining at a fancy restaurant I don’t recognize and taking an afternoon walk in a park, their hands linked. Lucas is gorgeous as usual, with his dark air and tailored clothes, and Faye… She looks like his perfect match, beautiful and elegant and absolutely nothing like me. I’ll never be that cool and sophisticated, no matter what kind of clothes I put on.
Suddenly I feel inferior and small, like that time when Elle and her mother confronted Mom and me after Dad died. I can’t breathe through the hard knot in my chest. I press a hand against the spot and rub, hoping I can massage away the lump.
Bennie can sense something is wrong. “Ava, are you still cyberstalking that woman?”
I put the phone back on the table, facedown. “No.”
“Come on. I heard the ping, and you went quiet there…”
“It’s not stalking,” I say, my voice hoarse. “It’s Google.”
“You have to stop. Let it go.”
“I know, but…” I sigh. “Every time I try to hit the unsubscribe link, I can’t.”
“Tell me you’re hoping for a report of them falling into a ditch and breaking all four legs, and that’s why you keep it.”
I snort a laugh. Leave it to Bennie to come up with something like that. “No. They’re dating.” I try to be nonchalant, but my voice breaks at the end. I clear my throat. “I need some water. It’s freaking dry in L.A.”
“Oh, bullshit. Why torture yourself like this? You let him go. You broke it off for your own sanity.”
“You’re right.” I lay a fist on the table and rest my forehead on it. “He’s not mine anymore. I know that—I’ve accepted it. Really. But I can’t cut off my feelings and pretend he doesn’t exist… It hurts so much to see him happy with another woman.”
“Of course it hurts. You want him to mope. Be miserable for the rest of his life. Hopefully he’s already impotent.”
“Is that what you wanted for Drew when you were going through a rough patch?” Drew is Bennie’s British boyfriend. Mr. Perfect.
“What else?” Bennie says. “If he’d screwed around to get over me, I would’ve never forgiven him. Because I did want him back, even though I refused to admit it to myself.”
“Well, I don’t want Lucas back,” I say, even though my mind asks, Don’t you? Really?
“I know that. But he deserves at least a week of misery for every tear you shed over him, and erectile dysfunction is a good start.”
I flip the phone so I can look at the photos again. Faye and Lucas look happy, both of them smiling although dark sunglasses hide their eyes.
Does she know that the deal regarding his inheritance is real? That his siblings lied about it being the tabloids’ fevered imagination?
Maybe she does and just doesn’t care because she’s too sophisticated to care about stuff like that. What do I know about the people in Lucas’s circle? Maybe this kind of messed-up deal for an inheritance is par for the course, and only crude, backward plebs like me don’t get it.
I hit send on the email I’ve been typing. That was the last thing on my list. I lean back in my seat, suddenly feeling like the proverbial wet noodle.
“Ava, y
ou there?”
“Yeah. Still here.”
“I have to get going, but if you want me to come out this holiday and cheer you up, I’m all for it. L.A. isn’t that far from Japan.”
“Not as far as Virginia, but still trans-Pacific. Besides, I thought you were going to visit England with Drew.”
“He’s not going through a crisis. And he’ll just have to understand if he wants to be with me. I won’t abandon a friend in need.”
“Thank you, Bennie, but you don’t have to. Ray and Darcy are coming out to spend the holidays with me. I won’t be alone.” And neither will Lucas…
“Okay, but if you want me there anyway…”
I force myself to smile, hoping it will put the smile into my voice as well. “I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”
“Love you, babe.”
“Love you too.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ava
I feel atrocious the next day. Not even a super-hot shower and a latte with extra espresso perk me up. And my throat hurts for some reason. I paste on more foundation and concealer than usual and select a pretty red dress as a pick-me-up because I’m definitely going to need it. I have things to do, and Lucas is coming over tomorrow to discuss progress and our next steps.
While Robbie’s in his early morning meeting with the other managers in operations, I go over his agenda for the next few days and answer some emails on his behalf. One in particular catches my attention. It’s from a counselor from a private clinic.
Robbie,
You missed yesterday’s appointment, and Jay wouldn’t talk without you. Is something wrong? Hopefully you can sort out your schedule and get back to me.
The name Jay is familiar…then it strikes me: Robbie’s wife. I feel vaguely like a voyeur as my sleep-deprived brain finally registers the name of the clinic: Pacific Family Therapy. I don’t ever recall seeing children’s photos on Robbie’s desk, so it must be for couples counseling.
I forward the email to Robbie and make a mental note to bring it up—delicately—so he doesn’t overlook it. Then I go over the replies I received from the catering firm for the fundraising event.
Suddenly there’s a commotion. I jerk my attention from my laptop. Jay is marching rapidly toward my desk, her stilettos hitting the floor like bullets. Her fitted camel coat is cinched around the tiny waist, and a loose navy skirt ends mid-shin, showing off toned calves. The floor receptionist is trying to stop her—why, I’m not sure—but Jay won’t have it. Meg is no match for the slim Asian woman, who comes to a halt right in front of me.
