One of Us Is Dead(33)

I heard the front door open and close. Bryce was home from his dinner with Shannon. He had phoned me earlier to let me know that he had agreed to a dinner with his ex-wife in order to smooth everything over and apologize for his behavior. I appreciated the effort, minus the fact that the dinner and the apology wasn’t his idea. His footsteps were loud as he made his way up the stairs to the master bedroom. I fluffed my hair with my fingers and threw a purse over my shoulder just as he entered the room. He pulled loose his tie and took off his jacket, tossing it on the bed.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

Bryce unbuttoned his white shirt. “Well enough.”

“Did you apologize?”

“I did.”

His answers were short. I knew he wasn’t telling me the full truth.

“Are you two on good terms then?” I raised an eyebrow.

He pulled his shirt and pants off and stood there in a white T-shirt and boxers for a moment before walking over to me. Bryce lifted my chin with his hand. “She’s not going to bother us anymore,” he said, planting a kiss on my forehead and then on my lips. “I’m going to shower. Want to join me?”

“I can’t. I’m going to meet Olivia for a drink.” I knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but I was sure I’d find out soon enough. If they truly were in a good spot, then Shannon’s attitude toward me would improve, or so I hoped.

“That’s good. Maybe Dean and I should join you two.”

“Girls only.” I smiled.

He kissed me on the forehead again. “Then I won’t intrude.” Bryce took a step back and walked to the bathroom. Before closing the door, he turned around and said, “I love you, Crystal.”

“I love you plus one.”

His smile widened, revealing his perfect white teeth and charming dimples. Then he disappeared into the bathroom. Something didn’t feel right. Like my momma used to say, Always trust your gut, and for some reason, ever since I met Bryce, I hadn’t been doing that.





24

Karen


“Good night, my sweet boy,” I said flicking off the lights in Riley’s dinosaur-themed bedroom. He was all tuckered out after a night of just the two of us playing in the backyard, eating pizza, and watching his favorite movie, Harry and the Hendersons. It was a favorite of mine as a child too. Mark was still in Miami and wouldn’t be back this week. He said he had a plastic surgery conference to attend. I wasn’t sure if he actually did or he just didn’t want to be around me. We hadn’t been getting along so well after I urged him to take a vacation and questioned him about his kinship with Olivia. He had said he was too busy for a vacation and that he was just being nice to her, as she’s my friend and his client.

I closed Riley’s bedroom door and made my way to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of red wine. The doorbell rang. I quickly set down my drink and ran to the front door before whoever was on the other side could ring it again.

I opened the door and there stood Shannon. Her eye makeup was halfway down her face. Her hair was disheveled. Her eyes were bloodshot and wet with tears.

“I had nowhere else to go.” She sniffled.

I didn’t even hesitate before inviting her in, guiding her into my house. Sure, we had been fighting, but fights were almost always temporary. She flicked off her shoes and collapsed into the couch.

“Let me get you some water.”

“I went to have dinner with Bryce tonight,” she said and then broke into a sob.

I filled two glasses with ice water in the kitchen and hurried back to Shannon before she fell completely apart on my couch. She quickly took a gulp, while I took a seat beside her on the couch.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I proposed to him,” she cried.

“You what?” I whipped my head toward her. Save the judgment, I reminded myself.

“I know. I’m a fucking idiot.” Shannon took another big gulp of water.

“No, you’re not. You’re just a woman with a broken heart.” I placed my hand on her knee.

“He said no, by the way.” She looked at me with a crumpled face.

“I figured that much.” I gave her my most sympathetic look.

“And he threatened me.” Shannon’s face turned from sadness to anger.

“He what?”

“Well, I think he threatened me. Told me to stay away from him and Crystal, and something about becoming a widower.” She set her glass down, folded her arms across her chest, and leaned back into the couch.

“Bryce is an asshole. Always has been,” I said, setting my glass down and matching her posture.

She turned her head toward me and let on a small smile. “You’re right, aren’t you?”

“Yes. He’s kind of slimy too.”

“He is slimy, isn’t he.”

I nodded and put my hand on hers. “You’re going to be just fine. Trust me. The men in our lives don’t define us. We define ourselves,” I said to her, but in a way, I was saying it to myself.

“But I lost my chairwoman position because I’m divorced,” she cried.

“You didn’t lose it because you were divorced. It was because you missed two meetings. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I wanted you to be happy and focus on the gala. I didn’t want it to interfere with your big night,” I said.