Scrolling through, most of the videos were from different hosts, so I couldn’t be sure who I was about to meet. I found one for a quick, professional look and followed the chirpy, sultry voiced female’s instructions. Surveying myself, I actually looked… right.
Back in the bedroom, I opened the armoire fully expecting to see more clothes that fit me. Sure enough, there was an assortment of sharp slacks and pretty, pastel tops. I ran my fingers along a silky satinblouse the color of a ripe peach, admiring the expensive materials. This couldn’t have been Agatha’s clothing. Even if she’d shrunk with age, she’d been much taller than me and preferred bohemian-style dresses.
These were clothes I would wear if money wasn’t an object. The slacks were cropped to my shins, impressive since I was a shorty, and the top fit at my waist as if it had been tailored for my measurements. Even the shoes—a chunky gray heel that was comfy but added oomph and professionalism to the pants—were my size.
The food. The nap. The shower. Makeup and clothes. I felt pampered and confident. And I’d wear that like armor until my insides matched my outsides.
“You’re such a badass, Simone.”
Saying it out loud boosted the sensation even more. I grabbed the keys Brianne had left for me and headed back downstairs, refreshed and ready.
CHAPTER 4
At the foot of the stairs, movement caught my eye. Stretched out in the lone patch of sun still peeking over the house was a patchwork cat with one ear missing. Its stick-thin, ratty tail wrapped itself around its haunches. His little claws were painted a bright shade of pink, and a fabulous bright blue bow adorned his neck.
“Gumbo!” At his name, the cat turned its head to survey me with two different colored eyes. I crouched down and extended one hand. “Hey, Kitty, remember me? Gosh I can’t believe you’re still around. You were old when I was a teenager!”
The cat sneezed, stood, and arched its back. Oops, I’d offended kitty.
“Aww, Gumbo, I’m so sorry if I offended you. You look fantastic. I’m just thrilled to see you alive.” Gumbo watched me a second longer, then sauntered past me to the door to the wellness center. His tail brushed my leg which, for a cat, basically means you’re their best friend for life. Score one for Simone.
I wasn’t sure if Gumbo was allowed inside, but he walked straight in like he owned the place when I opened the door and turned right into a room I didn't remember seeing earlier in the day. I followed him into what seemed to be a conference room, He hopped into one of the large corporate chairs surrounding a long, rectangular table.
“This must be the board room.” I moved to sit next to Gumbo, who was perched as if he were waiting for the meeting to start. Gumbo let out a quick hiss, glared at the head chair, then glared at me.
Huh. Gumbo was right. Technically, I was in charge now. I should sit at the head of the table. But would the people I’d never met before take it the wrong way? It was bad enough they suddenly had a new owner they’d never met. How would they feel about the power play?
“Meow.” Gumbo didn’t meow. Not exactly. Instead, it was like he said the word meow in a slightly high-pitched and effeminate voice.
“You’re right, Gumbo. It’s my seat.”
I’d no sooner settled myself in the seat than Brianne sauntered in carrying a stack of booklets. She stopped short when she saw me, and I regretted my chair choice. Yes, I was at the head of the table, but it was the head closest to the door. I had to swivel and crane my neck to greet everyone who walked in.
Not exactly commanding.
“You’re here. Ooh, and you look great. I love that top on you! I trust you’re feeling better?” Brianne went over to the drink table that rested under the window on the far side of the room and returned with a fresh glass of ice water. “Unless you want caffeine?”
“No, actually, I don’t want to be jittery when I meet everyone.” And I’d just been thinking I needed water. How could she have known that? “Thanks. You know, if you show me around, I’m happy to get my own drinks. I don’t want you to feel like you have to wait on me or anything.”
“I don’t mind. I enjoy taking care of people.” Her smile told me she meant it. “Wait to read that. Hiya, Gumbo, love the bow.” She tapped a finger on the spiral-bound booklet she’d set in front of me, then set one in front of each of the chairs, including the cat’s. Gumbo peered at the paper, his eyes moving like he was reading it.
Which was odd, not just because a cat looked like it was reading, but because the papers were all blank. I flipped through each of the pages, angling them to see if the light picked up invisible ink or something. But no. Brianne was passing out binders of blank papers.
And things were about to get weirder.
Ethan’s deep chuckle floated down the hallway before he made it to the room. On his arm was a woman I recognized right away. Tall and slender, with an athletic tank and leggings, both in a bold blue accenting her impressive muscle tone. Her platinum blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and eyes bluer than her clothes lifted as she smiled adoringly at Ethan.
Lauren Whitaker.
The head cheerleader in high school. Ethan’s girlfriend from freshman year through graduation. And a holy terror of a bully who’d belittled and mocked anyone not in the popular group. Including me.
I took a sip of my water to try to steel my nerves and ended up clanging the glass against my teeth because I was too busy looking at the girl I’d wanted to be instead of the thing in front of my face. I sputtered, water dribbling down my cheek, which is when they turned their attention to me.
“Simone, good to see you again. I trust you’re settling in upstairs?” Ethan took my hand in both of his, swallowing it up. He was warm and soothing. “You clean up well.” His thumb stroked my wrist for a hot second, and I do mean hot. Then he released my hand and stepped back. “Do you remember Lauren Whitaker from high school? She’s the head physical therapist here at Magnolia.”
“Of course I remember Lauren.” I extended the same hand—still tingling from Ethan’s light caress—to shake hers. She may have been awful to me, but I could be polite. Especially if they were still together and Ethan’s slight flirting had been all in my head. But hadn’t he said he was divorced? “How have you been?”
“Fantastic, Simone. And it’s so good to see you.” It was weird, but the way she shook my hand wasn’t fake or forced. And her smile was genuinely friendly, if a bit apologetic. “When Ethan told me you were returning to Treater’s Way, I immediately whipped out my yearbook to get the visual. You’re even prettier now than I remembered.”
