“If there’s any unfinished business you have with your great-nephew, I suggest you think about finishing it.”
She pushed away from the door and headed up the stairs, pausing to face Ms. Carolina. “If you don’t want me to stay here knowing that I intend to make your great-nephew regret every unjust word and action he’s shown me, please let me know. I like it here. I like you. I want to rent my room for another week so I can finalize some things, but if you don’t want the headache, I understand and can make other short-term arrangements.”
“I am a business owner with no other business, of course you can stay. Plus, I have a beautiful black dress that’s too elegant to wear to Sally Willoby’s funeral. No, my new dress, it must be reserved for the intimate spectacle of my nephew’s demise.”
Lauren laughed, dropping her head as tears overwhelmed her.
She couldn’t deal with another rejection. Even a slight one from a kind stranger.
Ms. Lina reached out and held Lauren’s hand between both of hers. Her touch warm and gentle.
“I look forward to seeing how you make Santi pay. Shrouded Lake hasn’t been this interesting in years, but be warned mija, my nephew is very good at fighting. You may make him start to remember this.” Then Lina waved off her words. “Oh, but it doesn’t sound like you’ll be here long enough to cause lasting damage. I’m sure you’ll be well on your way before that happens.”
On my way to nowhere.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Lauren said instead. “Good night, Ms. Carolina.”
“Good night, mija.”
Upstairs, Lauren shut the door to her bedroom and took a deep breath, the sound harsh in the surrounding quiet.
Opening her eyes, she undressed and ignored the sound of her phone vibrating for like the fiftieth time today. Crossing into the bathroom, she turned on the shower, then stood in front of the mirror behind the sink, which bared her nakedness down to her waist.
At forty-four she looked better than she did at twenty-four. Her brown skin was more supple from years of self-care and genetics. Her face had softly defined angles, and her breasts, though not as high and perky, were still full and firm. She looked down at her lower body, strong and shapely from weightlifting. To her there was nothing wrong with how she looked. There was nothing wrong with how she’d looked twenty years ago, but she didn’t know that then, just like she didn’t know what Derrick and her family saw that confirmed that now was the time to show her how much they really didn’t give a shit about her.
And the timing of it all...fucking perfection.
Because really, less than two weeks from the wedding, a day and a half from officially moving into Derrick’s place. She hadn’t been able to execute corporate acquisitions with thatmuch stealth. The level ofhatethey must’ve had held in all these years?—
She held her own gaze in the fogged-over mirror, fighting to understand what inside her could’ve justified what they did. All she saw was her shattered soul staring back in fragments of hurt and pain.
Angrily swiping over her fogged-over reflection, she grabbed a bath and a body towel from the open cabinetry of linens and draped the large towel over the curtain rod. She stepped inside the tub, allowing the hot spray to dissolve the outer layer of shame and self-recrimination.
Two hours later she was in the center of the bed, three large fluffy pillows propping her up as she continued her reconnaissance.
“This is going to be good,” she promised her laptop.
Her phone vibrated somewhere inside her purse seconds before an incoming text popped up in the corner of her laptop screen.
Reese:
I have your location. You have one minute to call before I reserve my flight.
Lauren pushed her laptop away and scrambled to dig the phone from the bottom of her purse.
When she heard the vibration again, she looked at her laptop screen, terrified about the next message.
Reese
And I’m bringing Dream. Bet!
Lauren pulled out her phone and pressed. “Call Reese! Call Fucking Reese, Siri!” The phone barely rang once before Reese picked up.
“Codeword?”
“Cooch.”
“Fire or Rain?”
