Even though my mother was maybe the worst person ever, I couldn’t betray her to this woman she saw as her rival. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” She snorted, taking a big bite of her sandwich and chewing thoroughly before responding again. “She spread rumors around town that she was the one who didn’t invite me and Conrad to any Afton parties. That was partly true. We were invited to a few of them at first, but I stopped going because she made it all so stressful. I was wearing a Cartier sapphire brooch? She had to be wearing the Cartier panther watch. I was wearing three-inch heels? Hers had to be higher. So she stopped sending the invitations.” She paused for another bite. “This sandwich is so good. You know, that’s how she commissioned those trademark stilettos of hers. I was wearing the highest heels most of our favorite designers offered, but she wanted more.”
Well. That sounded exactly like my mother. “Hmm,” I said noncommittally.
“I grew very tired of it very quickly,” she said. “A certain amount of game playing is par for the course. I mean, we’ve got a rarefied pocket of people who have far too much money and want to prove that they deserve it without having to work too hard, so what else are they going to do? But there are plenty of galas in the city and I didn’t need to spend my time at ones wherethe hostess spent all of our conversations taking digs at Nantucket and anyone who wants to spend time there.”
Understandable. I gave her a twist of my mouth that was somewhere between a grimace and a smile. Now I felt terrible for having seated them all together at the gala. “Well. I’ll make sure to keep them away from you at any future galas or events I throw.”
“Much appreciated.” She shook her head. “I got so fed up sitting at that table. It’s not your fault, Pom—you didn’t know—but both your mother and my husband spent the night making less and less subtle digs at me.I can’t believe you can even see through eyes with pouches that big. You’re going to eat all of your salmon? Don’t you know that salmon is the fattiest fish? I’m so glad I have children to invite me to things like this; it must be lonely without them.I finally couldn’t take it a second longer and snapped. Told my asshole of a husband to have fun sitting with your skank of a mother. Sorry.” She didn’t sound that sorry. “Called my lawyer on my way to the bathroom and told him I wanted to get the divorce process moving. Conrad thought I’d been having an affair, but I was actually secretly meeting with lawyers to see if I could get him to sign something that would keep my secrets safe.” She smirked. “I’d have to see him again, but not being married to Conrad meant that I wouldn’t have to go places with him, which meant I’d never have to see your father—and mother—again. Which was such a relief, I almost couldn’t believe it. I think I said something to your friend about it when I ran into her outside the bathroom.”
“She might have mentioned something about that,” I said vaguely.
“Yes. I was ready to be done with your father, and my husband as well. But notthatdone.” She frowned. “I don’t need his money or his estate—I have plenty of my own—but now I’m going to have to spend months or years dealing with it instead of making a clean break. What a pain.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
She waved a hand in the air. “It’s fine. That’s what lawyers are for. And I suppose I have the better end of the deal. You know, not being dead.”
“Very true.”
“But enough of that.” She waved a hand in the air again, though now there was a glint of mischief in her blue, blue eyes. “You didn’t come here to hear me trash my dead husband. And I didn’t come here to offer you most of the building. That could’ve been an email.”
I waited for her to tell me why we were here, then, but she seemed like she wanted me to make the connection myself. “Um, the food is really good?”
“No. I mean, yes, but no,” she said, and leaned in, displacing the basket of corn bread with her elbow so that it edged menacingly close to the edge of the table. “I wanted to hear more about you. I’ve never had to live without my accustomed lifestyle. Except in college, where I lived in a dorm for the adventure, but everybody knew that was temporary. And you came back from your adventure with a boyfriend! How was that?”
“I’ve actually been in talks with a few publishers about doing a memoir about it, and then my film agent is rabid to adapt it into a series,” I said. With all the excitement going on lately, I’d almost forgotten. She’d asked me if I wanted to star in it myself. I wasn’t sure if I was willing to risk another Razzie.
“Huh,” Bibi said. “I’d imagine that they’d have been trying to get you to write a book for ages.”
“Not really,” I said. My fan base was not known to be buyers of books, but everything around my grandma’s murder had reached the greater cultural sphere. “Though yeah, it was something, all right. Not an experience I really want to repeat anytime soon, but I’m grateful for it.”
“Well, you must be, given the boyfriend.” Her eyes gleamed now with something other than mischief. “He’s really quitehandsome. I might consider forgoing some jewelry or vacations to dip my fingers in that for a bit. Where is he from again?”
I cleared my throat. “Here.”
“No, where is hereallyfrom?”
“Here,” I said, a little louder. I bristled at the casual way she was depicting our relationship. “And I’m not ‘dipping my fingers’ in anything. It’s serious.”
Those glittering eyes widened. “Oh, really? I thought you were just having some fun before settling down.”
“Nope.” The remains of my salad were limp and cold on my plate. I glanced around for the waiter, hoping I could do that subtle nod that meant bring the check, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“So you’re getting married?” She reached over and casually plucked a piece of squash from my plate, popping it in her mouth. “Oh, you’re done with this, aren’t you?”
My stomach roiled, not at all due to the squash, which was excellent. “I don’t know if marriage is that important to me,” I lied breezily, wishing desperately for something to do with my mouth other than talk but not really wanting to eat the squash she’d fondled. “You can be committed without marriage.”
“That’s probably true,” she said. “I suppose I’m not exactly the poster child for healthy marriages.” She said it in a way that was so frank and matter-of-fact that I was nodding before I could help myself. “And it’s probably better not to link yourself legally to someone else. Look at what I’m going through right now.”
I frowned in sympathy, as if it were truly a terrible hardship to inherit an enormous portfolio of lucrative investments and enviable real estate holdings. It was tempting to make a joke that wasn’t really a joke about how she could just sign it over to my nonprofit if she didn’t want to deal with it all, but somehow I suspected that wouldn’t go over well.
“And it’s especially true when the person you’re with is at such a different income level than yourself. Look at Denise Ryan’sex. He was already a tech mogul before he married her, a bartender from nowhere, and now look. That bartender from nowhere is giving away half his fortune,” Bibi said. “You marry your teacher boyfriend, and then what? In twenty years he’s giving away halfyourfortune.”
“Denise and her ex were together since college, they just didn’t marry until his company succeeded. Most of my ‘fortune’ is in my family trust and inheritance, which is automatically shielded from a divorce, and I assume, based on my brother’s experience, the family lawyers will doubly shield it anyway,” I said, annoyed at how annoyed I was. “And he wouldn’t do that. He’s not marrying me for my money. If anything…”
I trailed off before I could say it, but it was too late. Bibi had a keen eye for both food and good gossip. She leaned forward, not for a piece of my squash this time. “He doesn’t want to marry you? Is that it?”
