One of Us Is Dead(20)

“How are you feeling about this evening?” he asked.

I was unhappy with how I was being treated in the community, and honestly, I blamed him for that. If he had been truthful with me from the beginning, I would never have started a relationship with him until he ended the one he was in. Now, in the town of Buckhead, I was labeled a gold digger and a home-wrecker. That wasn’t who I was. I knew that, but no one else did. But it was too late to change the past, and I knew my role. I had to win them over. I had to be the nice, beautiful girl from Texas that Bryce just couldn’t help falling in love with. I’d have to enchant them like I did the poor, unsuspecting married politician who would have been faithful if he hadn’t been under my spell. Sounds a bit ridiculous, but people love fairy tales, and whether I liked it or not, this was now my narrative.

After what happened at the salon, I was worried about seeing Shannon again. It was obvious she really hated me. I don’t even think there’s a strong enough word for how she felt about me. Then there was Olivia. She made me uneasy because she was so hot and cold. She was too much for me, but I guess I’d have to learn how to deal with her. Sacrifices.

“A little nervous,” I finally landed on.

“Don’t be. They’re going to love you, just as I did.” Bryce rubbed my hand.

This event was our coming-out party. It was the first time he and I would be seen together out in Buckhead as a couple. I had avoided doing date nights or really being seen with Bryce at all up until this point, but I couldn’t put it off any longer.

“But they don’t. The women in Buckhead don’t like me at all,” I confessed. My voice cracked at the end. I didn’t mean for it to, but every hard exterior has a soft spot.

“Sweetheart. That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. These women hate me because I broke up you and Shannon.” I turned away from him, looking out the window.

“You didn’t break up Shannon and me. We were already done when you and I started dating.” He grabbed my hand again.

“Did she know that?” I looked back at him, tightening my eyes.

He put both his hands on my shoulders and shifted toward me. “I’m going to clear all of this up tonight. I’ll make sure people know the real story.” He planted a kiss on my cheek.

“The real story or the politician’s story?” I jabbed.

“The real one. I promise,” he said, kissing me again.

“I’m not sure this is the right place to do this. This is Shannon’s event.” My eyes searched his. I hoped he’d call it off, that we’d try this another night. It didn’t feel right. None of it felt right.

“This is my event. After all, I am the one being honored.” He flashed a toothy grin that was neither reassuring nor encouraging. Bryce’s arrogance was unmatched, and there was no point in arguing with him. I gave him a small smile and turned my face toward the window. A feeling settled in the pit of my stomach . . . a bad one.





14

Karen


Mark and I walked up the red-carpeted stairs of the art museum where the gala was being held. There were photographers snapping photos. Bulbs flashed. Cameras flicked. It was all quite disorienting. The building was an architectural masterpiece with large stone pillars, marble flooring, and forty-foot ceilings. It was truly the most beautiful building in all of Buckhead, and I was thrilled I was able to secure it for the gala.

Entering the front door of the museum was like walking onto the set of a big-budget Hollywood film. The place was adorned with Rosa laevigata, Georgia’s state flower. They had large soft white petals, a yellow center, and a fragrance that filled the entire space. The centerpieces at each round table were vases filled with the flower and the ripest, plumpest peaches Georgia had to offer. It was truly a nice touch, and it was obvious that Shannon had put in a great deal of effort. This was her way of showing everyone that divorce had not affected her and that she could lead on her own. A pang of guilt rushed over me, knowing this was her last gala as chairwoman. Everything brought in for the event screamed opulence—gold tableware, crisp white tablecloths, high-back chairs, white candle lanterns hung throughout, and a string quartet playing soft classical music in the corner. A DJ was set up off the dance floor, ready to take over after dinner. The servers were dressed in white button-downs and black pants, and each of them carried a tray of wine, champagne, or hors d’oeuvres. At least Shannon was going out with a bang. Olivia would have massive shoes to fill, and I was sure she wouldn’t even come close.

Mark immediately walked to the bar, leaving me trailing behind him as quickly as I could in my heels. He kept his head down while I exchanged pleasantries with members of the community, most of which were clients of mine. I asked how their homes were. I exchanged hugs and compliments and smiles. Charm was a part of my job.

As I made my way through the crowd, I heard whispers about Shannon.

“I can’t believe she’s here. How sad.”

“Is she really going to introduce Bryce?”

“That poor woman. What is she going to do now?”

“I’m not surprised how beautiful this event is; Shannon doesn’t have a man to tend to.”

I couldn’t help myself overhearing that last remark from a woman named Carol, who was dating a man twice her age.

“I totally agree, Carol. It’s so amazing how much time Shannon has to plan incredible events like this. I’m sure you wouldn’t have enough hours in the day, what with you caring for your grandfather, Richard. Bless your heart,” I said with a Buckhead smile.