“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed as she locked Annein a tight embrace. As she pulled away, she smiled, her full set of veneers (purchased by production during season five) on display.
“I’ll take it from here,” she said to the hostess, shooing her away. Then she turned back to Anne. “I’m so glad you’re joining us for Thanksgiving! We have so much to talk about!”
Anne blinked.What is going on?
“Denise.” Anne finally exhaled, feigning as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Come on, come on, we’re over here!” Denise sang. Her arm flailed out toward the long table in the far corner.
For a split second, Anne found herself looking around the restaurant for the production crew to appear, as if everyone was in the midst of shooting aDivorce Divasholiday special and she had just missed the memo.
When no one came, she turned back to Denise. It was impossible to tell this woman’s age with all the work she had had done. Was she thirty or sixty? No one really knew. Her porcelain skin pulled tight over her high cheekbones, flawlessly layered makeup adorned her eyes and overly full lips, and her hair was inhumanly shiny. Her fitted designer dresses hugged her curves, and her gravity-defying cleavage was only pushed up further as she put one arm around Anne’s shoulders and started walking with her to the table.
“Thank God you’re here!” she lamented. “The manager said no cameras were allowed! Can you talk to her? We need content. Who knows what might happen tonight! We’re missing television gold. I already said two quotable lines that if they were filming would go viral, I just know it.”
Anne pretended to listen as she craned to see who else was waiting just ahead. “Is my dad here?”
“He’s right there at the head of the table, sitting with me and my favorite sister, Angela—she cracks me up. I thought it wouldbe fun to get the gang together again, like old times. Make sure there’s no hard feelings. Your dad has always been there for me. At least I won’t lose you!”
Anne frowned. “Excuse me?”
The woman’s head fell back as she cackled. “You’re so funny! My show, obviously!”
“The show is on hiatus, Denise,” Anne said.
“NotDivorce Divas!Myshow! Or mybrand, as Theo calls it. You know I don’t keep up with all the different platforms and apps and whatever the hell they call it. That’s why we have you. HA! Anyway, glad you’re finally here. I’m just gonna use the loo, but go on! Everyone already had their appetizers. The oysters are to die for!” Denise squeezed Anne’s arm before leaving her.
“Great.” Anne sighed as the woman left her and bounded toward the ladies’ room.
She felt that she had only just processed the appearance of Denise and now there was another show? Her stomach did an odd drop as her brain started to connect the dots. Was that Theo’s project? The one she had spent so many hours working on?
“Anne!” The sound of her father’s voice brought her attention back to the restaurant. She dodged a waiter and a dessert tray and finally arrived at the long table in the back corner. It was brimming with Denise’s friends and family—she recognized them from unavoidable run-ins during production. It was a sea of sequins and animal print, and in the center of it all was Walt Elliot. He was indeed at the head in his best silk shirt, one elbow on the table as he laughed at whatever was being discussed, even as he caught her eye and impatiently waved her over.
Walt rolled his eyes when she finally arrived at the seat next to him. “Finally.”
Anne sighed. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Dad.”
“Oh, take that look off your face. You know how much I hate it. It’s a party. And the paparazzi might be here soon.” Then he gave her his signature wince, the one that was supposed to work in lieu of an apology.
“There’s paparazzi?” Anne asked, confused.
“Honestly, it’s like you don’t even care. Denise has a friend who will feed the pictures straight to TMZ. How the stars give thanks and celebrate the harvest, or something.”
Anne looked around the busy restaurant again. “Dad, I don’t think—”
“Can we get more oysters!” he called out across the room to no one in particular. “Make it two dozen.”
A nearby waiter responded with a nod and hustled away.
“Dad,” she said sternly, keeping her voice low so only he could hear. “What is going on?”
“What do you mean?” he said, as if he was still in awe. “Denise invited me as her personal guest to celebrate!”
Anne blinked. “Celebrate what? Did Marsha drop the assault charges?”
“Oh, who knows,” Walt replied, rolling his eyes. “You’re burying the lede! When I called the network to talk about the hiatus, they told me some fantastic news.Divorce Divasis headed to Turkey! Isn’t that fantastic? The residuals are going to be astronomical.” He took a deep sip of his drink. “And it all happened after MacKenzie signed the divorce papers, so she won’t see a cent of this deal. I love it when things work out.”
“Wait.” Anne shook her head, trying to make the facts fit into place in a way that made sense. “What deal?”
