The Last Invitation (49)

“Now who’s threatening?”

Jessa stood up straight again. “You should thank me.”

“And you should be careful. You like to be part of the ‘in’ crowd. That’s who you are. You try to steal the shine of the people around you, but if I’m right, this ‘in’ crowd, these women, will turn around and destroy you.”

Shot landed. Jessa felt the killing blow vibrate through her.

Gabby’s words made her look backward and question everything, and Jessa was done with that. She didn’t want to face the worst parts of herself delivered by a person determined never to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Jessa grabbed her bag and her cup because it was time to make an exit. Forever. “Don’t contact me again.”





Chapter Forty-One

Jessa




Jessa got to Retta’s house three minutes early. She blamed Gabby for making her rush. For ticking her off. For saying things she didn’t need to say.

Jessa knew who and what she was. She’d taken shortcuts. She’d made choices others might find wrong or even despicable, but that had grown out of necessity. The law didn’t just come to her, like it did to Gabby. Picking out issues, putting the pieces together, seeing the bigger picture and forecasting possible problems—Jessa strained to make it all make sense. And when it didn’t, she found workarounds, used tactics to ensure she survived.

She needed this life. Watching it crumble around her over the last few weeks had convinced her of how precious her achievements were. The years of being loved only as a standin for her dead mother and failing to live up to unreasonable expectations were behind her. But the idea of scrimping and clawing, of silently begging for more attention, haunted her.

The pendulum had shifted. People now viewed her as a hero. She was all over the news. She’d protected Ellie and Curtis. She’d faced down Darren Bartholomew and his powerful family. She had credibility and would cling to it, not letting anyone rip it away.

“Covington called. I hear your temporary suspension is over.” Retta waited until her cook put a salad in front of her and one in front of Jessa and left the room before she continued. “That should be good news, but you seem distracted.”

Gabby. Stupid fucking Gabby. “Sorry. I had a run-in with a person I’d like to forget.”

“Is this related to the Bartholomew case?”

If she talked about it, issued the warning to Retta, then maybe she could forget Gabby and move on. “Law school, actually. Gabby Bruin, now Gabby Fielding, though she might have changed her name again since she’s divorced.”

Retta made a humming sound as she spooned out the salad dressing from a gravy boat then handed it to Jessa. “I know the Fieldings and read about her ex-husband’s death. A tragic ending for a savvy businessman.”

Jessa wasn’t in the mood to hear anything that made Gabby a martyr.

“She’s convinced there’s some great conspiracy out there . . .” Wrong word. Conspiracy sounded negative, and Jessa regretted it the minute she used it. “Sorry.”

Retta’s eyebrow lifted. “About what?”

Jessa bounced back and forth between thinking she should and shouldn’t tell. “You don’t want to hear this.”

“I remember Gabby.” Retta smiled. “Very bright.”

Perfect all the time. That was Gabby. “Uh-huh.”

“Probably the smartest in your class.”

Enough with the pro-Gabby chat. “But not very motivated. She got married and then got really weird.”

Retta frowned. “My memory is that she used her degree to help her husband set up a very lucrative business. She reviewed documents and . . . Well, I’m sure you’re not here to compare grades.”

“She’s convinced you’re involved.” Jessa blurted out the words. The need to dunk all that positive Gabby talk in a vat of reality overwhelmed Jessa. But then she saw Retta’s face and her unreadable, unblinking expression. “I mean, it’s not like the group did anything to Baines, right?”

“You aren’t privy to any Foundation work that happened before you were considered for membership.”

Jessa remembered that disappointed tone from law school. She’d overstepped. “Okay.”

Retta put her fork down. “I’m also a little concerned about how easily you talk about the Foundation when you have neither information to draw conclusions about it nor a nuanced understanding of our work.”

Time to regroup. Jessa realized she’d let hearing all the rah-rah stuff about Gabby’s brilliance feed her rage and tried to pivot. “I was worried about you because she mentioned that reporter Rob Greene. It sounded like they—the two of them—were digging around in Baines’s death and in other deaths.”

An uncomfortable backpedal. The kind Jessa had promised not to do again when she’d started at her current firm. Less blame-shifting and more responsibility. Shading the truth on that affidavit had taken her on a detour, but until the Bartholomew case she’d gotten back on track.

This time Retta pushed her plate to the side as if she was ready to deliver an in-depth, this is going to sting lecture. “Since we last met, your life has turned around. Do you regret that?”

“No, of course not.”