“Hey, you, congrats! I got a drink for you, but really, you should be buying the next round, Miss Moneybags!” Nessa says as we clink glasses and I take a sip of wine.
“Technically, she has thirty days to close, and she still has those cabin payments. But I support a free drink any day,” Phoenix adds, ever the detail-focused attorney.
I’m about to respond when I hear a too-familiar, too-loud laugh from the bar. Mandy. She’s wearing a slinky designer dress that probably cost more than my loan payment.
I hate to admit it, but she looks fantastic. A life without stress and an arsenal of high-end skincare products will do that for you.
“Excuse me,” I say to my friends, standing to head to the bathroom. I don’t want to think about Mandy. I know Sam isn’t interested in her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t more loved and welcomed by his family than I’ve ever been.
I check myself in the bathroom mirror and give myself a little pep talk. “You just earned a thirty-five-thousand-dollar commission. That’s more than she’s made in her entire life.” I smile, straighten my spine, and head out.
But before I can leave the alcove of the bathrooms, Mandy appears.
“Oh, it’s you.” Her voice drips sugar and venom.
“Mandy.” I try to step past her.
She blocks me. “Stay away from the salon deal.”
“Excuse me? I thought it was already done.”
“It was. Is. But everything was fine until Sam started asking too many questions.”
My instincts perk up. “Shouldn’t an investor ask a lot of questions?” I ask pointedly.
“No. Sam was supposed to provide the capital and the labor. Not to mention the eye candy.” She smirks.
I don’t rise to the bait. “Well, you got both brawn and brain. Lucky you. Now, if you’ll excuse me?—”
She moves in front of me again. “Look, I need this salon to work. Daddy cut me off. Said I had a drinking problem and a ‘pick-me’ attitude toward married men. Can you believe that?”
“Yes,” I answer flatly.
Why is she telling me all this? She might be three glasses of Chardonnay in, but is something rattling her?
“Anyway,” she continues, undeterred, “Rick doesn’t waste time on small deals. He needed a reason to be interested. It took some … convincing. But I knew if I brought him in, Sam would do anything to work with him. Be part of the big leagues.”
I try not to flinch, but it bothers me that she knows this much about my husband. Apparently, I don’t hide it well.
“We’re really close, you know. After the accident, we spent a lot of time together.”
“With Holly,” I say, correcting her.
“Sure.” She shrugs, eyes gleaming. “But I’m the one his mom calls and texts. When’s the last time she texted you?”
I don’t answer, I don’t need to. Mandy already knows. Never.
“Sam and I grew up together. We’re part of the same circle. We’ll never really be uncoupled. I’m Holly’s best friend. You know how that goes—best friend’s older brother? Classic.”
She leans in with a smug smile, but I’ve had enough.
“And how’s that working out for you?” I ask coolly. I shoulder past her, back toward my table.
“Well, I’m one of his favorite girls,” she calls out behind me.
I stop and turn. “That’s your problem. You’ll always be a little girl to him—one who can’t drive, can’t budget, and needs other people to clean up her messes. What’s Sam after? A real woman. And don’t worry, he’s got one.”
I turn my back on her and walk back to my friends, head high and heart steady.
