“That’s why you were a perfect match for him,” she says with genuine sweetness. “You always put your family first. You understand him. You understand each other. It’s really that simple.”
I think about Mom, and Lane, and even the pups—the M&Ms, like Lane likes to call them. And Beck and Griff in their own way. We do worry and care about them. Cheyenne is right. They are central to our lives.
“Any idea why Gail is here?” I ask, eager for more information.
“Someone said they saw her with developers, driving around.”
What does she think she’ll be doing? She has no say on this. It’s a done deal. Noah is married, and he keeps control.
Grace stands from her seat while Cheyenne removes my toe splitters. “I wonder how long she’s planning on staying,” she sighs.
Wild guess? Until Noah’s birthday, and a little longer.
My treatment done, I take care of tips and hand my card to Grace at reception. Her smile freezes as the front door chimes, cool air sweeping in a few dead leaves… and a beautiful blonde.
Pursing her lips, Gail steps inside.
“Mrs. Callaway, we didn’t expect you so early,” Grace says, her smile forced. “Fabrizio will get you settled in.”
Fabrizio waltzes in. “Ah Gail, Gail, Gail, you are more beautiful each time!” He envelops her in air kisses. “Seriously—you have to tell me your secret,” he adds as if she were the only personin the room. “What are we doing today?” he asks, coaxing her toward the dressing room.
Turning to me, Grace says, “You’re all set, sweetheart. Noah already called to settle for you.”
Gail sets her cold, assessing glare on me. “The apple never falls far from the tree, does it? Your mother must be proud of you. You leveled up.”
The words hit me like a slap. Years suffering Marcy’s lifestyle, rejecting my own mother so I could save myself? Still people look at me and see a price tag.
Behind her back, Fabrizio rolls his eyes and makes heart hands for me. But his clowning can’t calm the tremor inside me.
Gail turns to Grace. “Definitely Pretty Woman vibes. You should choose your clientele more carefully.”
My stomach twists.Pretty Woman.Does she even know what I had to go through to not be Pretty Woman? Or in my case, Pillow?
“Your mom got you all wrong. You’re not Weeping.” My new stepfather stands behind me as through the dirty window I watch Mom climb into a cab. His stench alone repulses me. “You’re Pillow.”
His hands land heavy on my shoulders. “You know what a pillow is?” His fingers dig into my bones. “It’s something you sleep with.”
The room spins, and I have to hold onto the register. I was smart and strong enough to escape him, back then. And while Mom later pretended I’d misunderstood, she sent me back to Emerald Creek and Aunt Angela. Then why is this insult hurting so much that I’m left speechless?
Grace pales. “There’s been a misunderstanding,” she tells Gail, her voice cold as ice. “We can’t fit you in.”
All I can focus on are Gail’s red nails digging into her crossed arms. My head pounds.
“Grace, it’s okay,” I whisper.
“No, it’s not. We’re the Bitch Brigade,” she tells me, eyes shiny. “We don’t just stand by when one of us is down.”
My voice is thin as air. “But I’m not…”
Gail flicks her nails impatiently, and Grace turns to me. “You go on,” she tells me softly, an apology she doesn’t need to give in her eyes. “You don’t need to be here for this.”
Cheyenne breezes out with a grin. “I’ll tell you how it goes,” she teases, miming like she’s eating popcorn.
But my feet are leaden.
Her face now cold as stone, Grace turns to Gail. “We don’t tolerate this.”
Gail hisses. “Thiswhat?”
