Every Last Secret - A.R. Torre Page 0,27
performance.” It was a weak attempt in a battle that was already lost, but I still stood my ground.
“Ned says that it’s a lie. Ned, in fact, had a lot to say about you, Dr. Neena Ryder.” She raised one bushy eyebrow with a confidence that I hated.
Yeah, I bet ol’ Ned did.
PART 2
JUNE
THREE MONTHS EARLIER
CHAPTER 12
CAT
“I just don’t understand where they’re at.” Neena craned her neck, trying to see around a sunscreen-covered family who had stopped right beside our cabana.
“Are you worried they’ll get lost?” I kicked the towel loose, letting my feet get some sun. “Relax. William has a homing beacon to me. Plus, they’re big boys. They can manage themselves at the pool.” Though, if any pool was a danger zone for wealthy men, it was the Menlo country club’s. William was easily recognizable and understood to be off-limits. Matt was a fresh face, and the single vultures scattered around this pool wouldn’t care if he was balding and a little chubby. What they would be scared off by, and why Neena had absolutely no need for concern, was the guest wristband he had on. Neena was displaying hers proudly, unaware that it was a giant “Not Rich Enough to Be Here” red flag.
She rattled her drink, the ice clattering against the glass, and I tuned out the sound, focusing on the music that floated by on the cool breeze. I reached out and turned the flame of the tabletop heater higher.
“There!” Her chair banged against mine, and I cracked open one eye to see her at the edge of the cabana. “They’re by the towel stand.”
“Good for them,” I mumbled. “Maybe they’ll grab you another drink on the way back.”
“What are they doing over there?” She cupped her hand over her eyes, shielding the sun. “Oh my God.”
The dread in her voice spoke of plagues and famine, nothing that could possibly be happening inside the gates of the country club. I took a sip of my apple-and-spinach juice and considered the lunch options on today’s pool menu.
“They’re literally surrounded by women. Cat, look.”
“So?” I made a half-hearted attempt to see our husbands, then adjusted the pillow under my head and exhaled. William and I should have come here alone. I could be reading the latest bestseller instead of listening to the insecure ramblings of a semidrunk wife who would go into jealous territory in three . . . two . . . one . . .
Silence fell, and I was pleasantly surprised at being wrong. I risked a glance up. Neena was standing ramrod straight, staring across the pool deck, with her giant breasts almost hanging out of her skimpy red bikini. Muttering under her breath, she crossed her arms, shivering a little in her spot away from the heater.
“Relaxxxx,” I intoned, my patience running thin. The more time I spent with Neena, the more her insecurities were beginning to drive me crazy. Every move seemed to be a calculated attempt to thwart an opponent who didn’t exist. It was exhausting to be around her, and I was planning a slow withdrawal from the friendship I had carelessly begun. Our first solo activity—brunch last weekend—had been a painful process that had reminded me of why I had stopped taking on new friends. I could only listen to someone brag about themselves for so long before I needed to see a genuine side. Neena had yet to show me one.
“Matt’s coming back this way,” she announced. “William’s still talking to them.” She glanced at me with a look of warning.
“I honestly couldn’t care less.” I fluffed the pillow of her chair, 100 percent confident in William’s ability to thwart flirtation. “Sit down. You’re giving me a headache.”
She turned away from the view and cupped an insecure hand over her four-pack of a stomach as she sat down in the chair. “I don’t understand how you aren’t more concerned about William.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” I drawled. “And you have nothing to worry about, either.” I couldn’t see why, but Matt adored her. Doted on her. Spoiled her. It was sweet, if not a little sad. All that love, and I had yet to see her reward or return any of his affections.
I studied her as she pulled out a compact mirror and painstakingly applied a dab of moisturizing SPF cream to the soft skin under her eyes. “You guys have been married, what? Twenty years?”
She nodded, then ran her finger over her lips.
“Two decades is a long time.