Good Rich People(74)

“I can’t believe Graham shot me.” Posey pours herself a glass. “I mean, I can, but still.” We clink glasses. “You were cheating.”

I roll my eyes. “Everyone’s cheating.”

Bang!

“They’ll run out of bullets eventually,” Nigel says.

“They’ve completely destroyed the estate. Have you seen the carnage in the garden?”

“It’s brilliant. Best party ever!”

“Anyone fancy a bet against Graham? We might as well get involved.”

“Ha-ha.”

Posey puts her glass down thoughtfully. “I’ll put a bet down. On Demi.”

“What, the little girl?” Thomas says.

“I saw her take out, like, three of you in the garden.” Posey says, grinning pleasantly. She’s the type who thinks a win for one girl is a win for all. I guess I am, too. I hope Demi kills every last one of them.

“She shot me, too,” Greg volunteers. “It’s not fair. She’s so small.”

“She’s a little animal.”

“Wonder what she’s like in bed?” someone has to ask.

“You really think she can take out Graham?” Nigel asks Posey.

“Absolutely,” Posey answers with relish. “I’ll always put my money on the woman in a game of life or death.”

“I’ll bet on the staff. Can we just count them as one? Margo’s staff is brilliant at being invisible.”

“That’s a good bet!”

“How much?”

“A grand?”

“Let’s make it something that matters.”

“Thirty?”

I don’t want to kill Demi. I want to see her win. Maybe this game will be enough to satisfy Graham. Maybe I don’t need to kill her after all. Maybe I was taking things too far. Maybe it’s a place I can’t come back from. I think of how I shook loading the gun for Graham. Do I really think I can point it at Demi?

“No one’s going to beat Graham,” someone says. “If they do, he’ll probably have them killed for real.”

Posey meets my eye. She leans in close, says quietly so no one can hear, “How are things with Graham? We never talk about him.”

“Why would we?”

“I know him pretty well—”

“I married him.”

“It’s not a competition.”

I shrug. “Everything is.”

She leans back, turns something over in her mind. “You know I broke up with him, right?”

I didn’t know that, but I nod because I’m too proud to admit it. “But I don’t know why.” I need to know why.

She arranges the artful folds of her dress, and when she looks up, her eyes bore into mine. “Because he’s a bad person. I think he’s attractive. I think he’s rich. But he’s a bad person, you know?”

I do know. And I never thought that could mean more than his most stellar attributes. He is beautiful. He is rich. What else is there? And then I see Elvira’s smile and I think, There is one good thing. One genuine thing.

I never believed there was such a thing as a good rich person. It seemed like a contradiction in terms, a conflict of interest. But this morning, I wrote Astrid a check. I could have fired her. I could have ruined her. I had all the money. I had all the power. And instead, I warned her. Instead, I let her go. Maybe there are good rich people. Maybe I could be one of them.

There’s just one problem. The rich people I know won’t let me go. I was complicit. And all the money in the world isn’t enough to pay for it. “And Graham just let you walk away?” I ask her.

“No.” She lifts her glass. “He found you.”

I hesitate, then reach for mine. My heart skips a beat. My gun is gone. “Where did my gun go?”

“What gun?” one of the men says.

“You don’t need it,” Posey says. “We’re out of the game.”

“It was here on the table. I need it. Who took it?”

“It was probably one of the players or staff or something.”

I stand up. “I need my gun back.” I’ll never find it. I’ll never see who took it. Then I remember my app.

I see Demi’s red light blinking away from me. It was her. She took my gun. She went to the gallery to get more ammo. When she couldn’t find any, she came for my gun. I could leave it, let her shoot someone. That would destroy her life. That would win me the game. It’s actually better than my original plan; there’s less chance of it coming back on me.

It’s perfect. It’s fate. I win.

“Where are you going?” Posey says. My feet are moving. “You can’t go back in the game. That would be cheating.”

“Everyone’s fucking cheating!” And someone might get killed.





DEMI



I go straight from the hotel to Graham’s birthday party, slightly tipsy. I take a car so I don’t have to see too much of the city. I wear sunglasses. I have little glimpses of the places I used to know—the street corners and the underpasses and the swap meets—but they are the ghosts of a dead woman’s life and I’m free. I am free and forgiven.