Bea wheezed, then had to press a hand over her face to keep the mask from sliding off. “I can’t believe this is your final year at St. Ives. Why didn’t I transfer earlier?”
Georgina sighed. “Graduating, I can handle. Not coming home to you every night? Tragic.”
“You’re going to make me cry into the snail essence,” Bea said.
“Okay let’s not think about it yet, it’s barely May. Once hay fever kicks in come September we can start our slow emotional breakdown.”
“Deal. Although, I probably need to start thinking about who I’ll be living with next year.”
“That’s easy,” Georgie said. “Lillian, of course.”
“That would actually be fun.” Bea rolled her head to look at Georgina. “But I don’t think I get to keep this place without you, do I?”
“Unfortunately not. Gage and I only got it because our grandfather donated a building.”
“That’s not very good ROI.”
They lay in a contented sort of silence for a minute. Georgina was scrolling on her phone. Bea traced her pinky along the edge of the macaron tray, wondering why something priced exclusively for wealthy adults came in portions designed for toddlers.
“Oh, speaking of eviction,” Georgina said casually, putting her phone aside. “Did I tell you Gage pulled Catherine’s board seats?”
Bea shot upright so fast the mask nearly fell off. “Wait—what?”
“Two of them. The women’s leadership one and the finance scholarship one. She still has a few elsewhere, but those were the feathers in her cap. The ones she put in every bio.”
“He didn’t say anything.”
Georgina gave a sly grin. “That’s how you know it was for you.”
Bea didn’t quite know what to feel. Partly victorious. Slightly alarmed. Atinybit sorry for Catherine. Ant-sized.
Mostly, she was stunned. Gage hadn’t just given her a stern warning. He’d filed the paperwork and shut the door.
“I don’t know whether to kiss him or install parental controls.”
Georgina snorted.
It was easy to forget how much power he actually had. How cleanly he could cut. Like a scalpel in cufflinks. She adjusted her mask back in place. “So what happens to her now?”
“Now she stays the hell away from you if she has any sense,” Georgina said, stretching her arms overhead. “She’s been trying to contact him. He’s not responding.”
Bea reached for a spoonful of sorbet from the little glass bowl between them. “It’s almost surreal to think that it’s all just…handled.”
Georgina shrugged. “That’s what happens when you let the right man off the leash.”
Bea smiled, a little crookedly. “Guess I had to learn it my way first.” Then, softer: “Still. I could’ve saved myself a lot of nights staring at the ceiling.”
Georgina glanced over. “Maybe you needed the nights.”
Maybe she had.
“Your play’s next week, right?” Bea asked, moving on.
“Yep.” Georgie started pulling her mask at the edges. “And my dress might actually kill me. They had to custom-fit the corset because I refused to go up a size.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“It is. I’m the lead. I’m supposed to suffer. Naomi’s show has a severed arm. Isabel’s has a goat. I have two costume changes and Oscar Wilde’s ghost haunting me from the wings. We all have our crosses to bear.”
