One of Us Is Dead(18)

The server collected our empty glasses and we ordered sparkling water. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Figure out what’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with us. It’s not just him either. I have no interest in having sex with him.”

“Well, you are getting older.” I snickered.

Karen laughed. “Thanks for your sympathies.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a lull. All relationships have those.” I placed my hand on top of Karen’s.

“I hope so,” she said. “Anyway, let’s talk about something else, instead of the fact that we’re both becoming wrinkled-up old hags.” Karen smiled.

The server carefully poured two glasses from a bottle of San Pellegrino and placed them in front of both of us. He nodded and set the bottle in the center of the table before backing away.

“Have you met Crystal yet?” I asked.

I knew Karen was hiding something from me, and I was sure it had to do with the girls. Perhaps she knew why Olivia was being such a bitch to me, or she had interacted with Bryce’s new wife.

“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I had lunch with her and Olivia the other day.”

I swirled my drink. Bingo. That’s it.

“And?” I raised my chin.

“And she was nice. But it didn’t go well. Olivia did what she always does: made a scene, stormed off, and apologized two minutes later.” Karen rolled her eyes.

“Over what?”

“You. She was adamant about not socializing with you anymore.”

I took another sip. I knew Olivia had it in for me after the incident at the salon, but I wasn’t sure why.

“What is her fucking deal?” I crossed my arms.

“Honestly, I think she’s insecure and she’s scared. And in Olivia’s twisted-up mind, I think she thinks divorce is contagious and she’ll end up in the same situation.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous.” I waved my hand dismissively.

“She also mentioned something about you mistreating her years ago,” Karen said, raising an eyebrow.

I squinted my eyes, trying to recall this apparent mistreatment, but nothing came to mind. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, and you know how dramatic Olivia can be.”

Karen let out a small laugh. “You can say that again.” She took a sip of her water. “Anyway, how’s the gala coming along?”

“Pretty well. But I haven’t been able to get ahold of Tina about the budget, and Olivia hasn’t helped at all.” I gripped my water glass a little too tightly.

“That’s odd.” Karen pulled her lips in. “Anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve done your fair share. You secured the location, and the whole town knows about it, thanks to you as well,” I said with a smile.

Karen nodded.

“And . . .” I hesitated. “I’m still going to go through with introducing Bryce for his award.”

Karen raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes. I want to appear strong like I was before this whole divorce. If I chicken out, people will talk. Besides, I’ll be fine as long as you’re there with me, and you just make sure I don’t do anything stupid,” I said with a nod.

“Of course. I’ll be by your side the entire evening.”

“And also, don’t be nice to Crystal.”

“I will try,” Karen said with a half smile.

I looked down at my hands, which were adorned with half a dozen rings, and then back at Karen. “I hope to God this event goes well,” I confessed. “Because if it doesn’t, I don’t think I’ll survive this town.”

Karen gave me an encouraging smile. “It’ll go perfectly. I promise.”





12

Olivia


It was the night of the gala, one of the many events that were put on for the elite of Buckhead. It was highly exclusive, and it recognized those that went above and beyond for our community, basically those that were successful in everything from politics to business to art and more. Although it was about honoring members of our community and raising money for some charity (I was never sure what charity it was for), deep down it was truly about honoring ourselves. The women dressed up in their most expensive gowns, trying to outdo one another. The men wrote large checks to compensate for other areas in which they were lacking. And this was the last event Shannon would ever lead. It was important that it not go well.

A week had passed since my tiff with Jenny and Shannon, and I hadn’t spoken to either of them. I had every intention of patching things up with Jenny, but time slipped away from me, and personally, I didn’t care, but now I was stuck doing my own hair and makeup. I needed to look my absolute best. After all, it would be I who was head of the Women’s Foundation from this point on.

“Goddamn it!” I raked my eyelashes with mascara, slipping up and getting some on my eyelid.

“Fuck!”

I threw down the mascara wand and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was straightened, but it looked as if I did it. It wasn’t the blowout I was going for, and my makeup was half done. I had spent the day watching YouTube videos, the likes of Jaclyn Hill and Jeffree Star, trying to perfect a smoky eye and sky-high lashes, but no such luck. How the hell did they make it look so easy?