“So, you do have a Pamela?” Jo Ellen asked.
“Umm…do you have a last name?”
Jo blew out a breath. “Honestly, I do not. But I met her briefly in line at…” She winced and cringed and looked like she might have gas. “Home Goods,” she finally said. “She was buying a…” She looked up at Maggie.
“Pillow?” She mouthed the suggestion.
“A pillow,” Jo Ellen said, adding a thumbs-up like she approved Maggie’s newfound ability to lie. “A beautiful, bright green…actually, it was kind of lime green, you know? The greenequivalent of fuchsia? What’s that called? Really bright and blinding?”
Maggie gave her a look. Was she serious?
“Chartreuse?” the receptionist suggested.
“Yes! Velvet chartreuse with, um, balls. Like tiny balls hanging off the end. She bought the last one they had, if you can believe it. And you know Home Goods. There might not be another, so I thought I might call the manufacturer…if Pamela knows it.”
Maggie dropped her face in her hands, not sure if she should laugh or cry.
The receptionist was dead silent.
“I mean, do you know how hard it is to find the right shade of green?” Jo Ellen continued. “She mentioned that she worked there at, um, Meridian. In Buckhead. That’s where you are, right? She was so nice. Lovely woman.”
“You probably mean Pamela Wentworth.”
Jo Ellen’s eyes popped open like saucers. “Wentworth?”
She and Maggie exchanged uncertain shrugs.
“Um, yes, that might be it,” Jo Ellen said. “She just said Pamela and I thought, what a pretty name. That’s the only way I could remember it, so…is she there?”
“I’ll check to see if she’s at her desk. Hang on.”
Hold music filled the kitchen as Maggie clunked her elbows on the table. “Now what? Are you going to ask Ms. Wentworth if she’s having an affair with Anthony or likes chartreuse pillows?”
The phone clicked.
“Anthony Merritt’s office, this is Pamela.”
They stared at each other in horror. ShewasAnthony’s assistant.
Instantly, Maggie leaned forward. “Hello, this is Magnolia Lawson, Anthony’s mother-in-law.”
Jo Ellen gasped.
“Oh, hello.” Pamela sounded surprised. “The front desk told me—never mind. It must have been a mistake. Do you need to speak with him, Mrs. Lawson? He’s not in the office right now, but I’ll be seeing him soon, so I can give him a message.”
“No, that’s not necessary, I just wanted to…” Maggie stalled, her mind skidding. “To tell him?—”
“Something,” Jo Ellen mouthed, wildly gesturing.
“It’s not Nolie, is it?” the woman asked quickly. “She’s okay, right?”
Nolie? Why would his assistant care about Nolie? And why did that feel…personal?
“Oh—yes. Everything’s fine,” Maggie said. “I just wanted to tell him we missed him on the Fourth of July. And Crista is…” She searched for a word. “Glowing.”
Across the table, Jo Ellen gave her two more enthusiastic thumbs-up.
“I thought he should know how well hiswifeis doing in Destin,” Maggie pressed on, emboldened. “She’s thriving. Strong. And—well—pregnant. Very pregnant.”
