Lovely Girls(22)

“She might not be ready,” Emma said.

“Of course she’s not ready. But that’s all the more reason to go. And I’ll help you look fabulous for your date.” Genevieve set down her glass of wine. “Okay, hand me that poster, Ingrid. It’s glitter time.”





CHAPTER TWELVE




* * *





KATE

“This would look perfect on you,” Genevieve announced, holding up a black one-shoulder jumpsuit.

It was so completely unlike anything I would ever wear that I laughed.

“No way,” I said. “I could never pull off a jumpsuit or a one-shoulder top, much less the two combined.”

“I’m serious,” Genevieve insisted. “I’m too short waisted to wear it, but I can tell it will look great on you. Try it on.”

We were at a very expensive boutique in downtown Shoreham called Lulu’s. The shop had long racks along three walls, all filled with luxurious garments. There were white orchids scattered around and three-wick candles that glowed with the scent of lemon verbena. Every price tag I glanced at terrified me. Ed’s life insurance policy meant that I was financially comfortable, but still. Blowing money on pricey clothes seemed ill advised. Especially a one-shouldered jumpsuit that I would never wear.

“Just try it.” Genevieve practically pushed me toward the dressing room. She handed me a pile of garments she’d selected. A loose maxi dress, a satin tank top, white skinny jeans, a short dress in a tropical print. “And these too. Go on.”

She relaxed on a white slipcovered sofa while I modeled each outfit for her. Genevieve rejected the first few outfits quickly. But when I tried on the jumpsuit, she gasped. “That’s it! I knew it would be perfect on you.”

I had to admit the jumpsuit looked better than I’d imagined. It was slimming and elegant.

“I don’t know.” I looked at my reflection in a trifold mirror, turning from side to side. Multiple Kates stared back at me. “It’s not too over the top?”

“No such thing,” Genevieve declared. “Now we need to do something about your hair.”

“My hair?” I put a hand up self-consciously. I’d worn the same shoulder-length style for years.

“Trust me,” Genevieve said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll call my girl and see if she can fit you in this afternoon.”

Two hours later, we were sitting in a café in downtown Shoreham with glasses of iced tea in front of us. The jumpsuit, zipped into a plastic garment bag, hung carefully over an empty chair. My hair had been cut into a sharply angled bob and felt lighter around my face.

“What’s your plan with Joe for the evening?”

“I’m going to meet him at his restaurant,” I said, feeling a fresh flutter of nerves. I was going out on my first first date in twenty-five years.

“Stop freaking out.” Genevieve seemed to read my thoughts. “It’s all going to be fine. Better than fine. Joe’s great. I was so happy when he divorced Kim. She’s such a bitch.”

“Genevieve.” I glanced around. “What if someone hears you?”

“If they know her, they’ll agree with me,” Genevieve said airily. “She’s literally the worst.”

“Why, what did she do?” I asked.

“She exists.” When Genevieve saw my expression, she laughed. “I invited her and Joe to a party when they first moved here, and he was as lovely as could be. But Kim just stood there and barely made the effort to talk to anyone. Then Emma’s husband, Mark, accidentally bumped into her and spilled a glass of red wine right down the front of Kim’s dress, which was, unfortunately, white.”

“Oh, no!”

“You would have thought from the way she reacted that he’d assaulted her. On purpose. Emma got a cloth and club soda to try and get the stain out, but Kim wouldn’t let her help. Then she started yelling at Joe, ‘We have to leave now! My Tory Burch is ruined!’ She was so dramatic. It was hilarious. Once she’d left, we laughed until we cried.”

And there it was again. Genevieve’s casual cruelty. It made me uncomfortable, but—if I was being honest—I was also a little envious. Genevieve never tried to hide her thoughts or feelings. She was unapologetically herself.

“That doesn’t sound like the sort of woman I’d imagine Joe with,” I remarked.

Genevieve raised one eyebrow. “What sort of woman do you see him with?”

“I don’t know.” I blushed. “Someone a little less high maintenance.”

“That’s the perfect way to describe Kim. She’s high maintenance on steroids. Needless to say, I never invited her to another party,” Genevieve continued. “But that’s not even the best part.” She leaned forward across the table, her eyes gleaming. “She walks around like she has a stick up her ass. But it’s all an act. She had an affair with her son’s best friend’s father. Jason Sherman. He owns a chain of hardware stores. Very wealthy.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Someone spotted them out together at a restaurant down in West Palm Beach and sent an anonymous photo to Joe and Jason’s wife.”

“Is that why Joe and his wife divorced?”