The Herd - Andrea Bartz Page 0,92

stopped herself with a little snap of laughter. “I haven’t told anyone this and I can’t believe you’re the first to catch it,” she said. “None of that happened to Eleanor—it happened to me. In middle school. And I told her about it at some point, maybe like sophomore year, and then she brought it up years later when she was starting the Herd.” She swept her hair together, then tugged it over her shoulder. “She asked if she could, quote, ‘borrow’ it, because it worked so well with the brand narrative. But she also said the post and press release and everything else were already written and approved and about to go up.” She looked away. “It kinda felt like she was announcing, not asking. Letting me know as a courtesy, like, ‘Oh, by the way.’ ”

The hairs along my biceps and back were standing tall, buzzing beneath my sweater. “And you didn’t…have a discussion or tell her you felt uncomfortable?”

She shook her head.

“That’s fucked up,” Cameron contributed.

Mikki was gazing out the window, her expression inscrutable, so I fumbled on: “Did she ever do anything else like that to you?”

“She was pretty bratty when she was little,” Cameron offered. “Pissed a lot of people off. Would just break your toy or smash your sand castle for no reason.”

“Jesus, maybe don’t speak ill of the dead, Cameron.” Mikki tucked her feet beneath her.

I pointed with my can. “Her parents said she was just really bored. And that it got better after she skipped grades.”

“Yeah, maybe. She fell in with the cool crowd in high school,” Cameron said.

“And stopped smashing sand castles?” Mikki finished.

“And started dating you,” I added. “The first time.” He winced a little and I noticed it, pressed at it like a crack in a pane, some small and childish part of me perhaps eager to volley back the hurt: “Why did you and Eleanor break up? The first time?”

He flicked his eyes toward Mikki, then ran his fingers over his jaw. “Oh, you know. I remembered what freshman year of college was like. I thought she should be free to explore.”

Liar. Covering his mouth, avoiding our eyes—he hadn’t magnanimously set Eleanor free, and I knew it. Of course she’d told us about her ex, how she’d waited until her last week at home to tell him it was over.

And then they’d given it another go our last year at Harvard; as Eleanor told it, it just happened while she was home for the summer. But she had seemed increasingly frustrated with Cameron that time around: rolling her eyes when they were together, complaining about him when they were apart. From what we could tell, raw animal attraction had brought them together again, but practicality—her big plans for Gleam, excitement from early investors, her shiny new life in New York City in stark contrast to Cameron’s life in Beverly—had pushed them apart for good.

“Can we talk about something else?” Mikki pulled her hands inside her sleeves.

“Right. Sorry.” I shook my head. “That was…a weird thing to bring up.”

We gulped at our drinks for a few seconds. The moment grew almost unbearable.

“It’s weird she married Daniel,” Mikki announced. Cameron and I reared back, and she shrugged. “I mean, I was never allowed to say it. But he’s weird. He always gave me the creeps.”

I gawped at her. “Well you certainly haven’t mentioned that before.”

“No, he’s just…” She shrugged. “He was so perfect. And boring. Aren’t boring people usually the ones who turn out to be psychopaths? I mean, I’ve seen a lot of Criminal Minds.” Cameron looked up from his phone sharply and we both stared at Mikki for a moment before she added, “The show.”

I shook my head. Did Mikki really not see how generous Daniel had been in keeping the blackmail a secret? How he’d protected us out of his love for Eleanor? “He worshiped her. I don’t think he even wanted to open up their marriage, but he did it for her.”

“And you buy that? You don’t think he resented her?” Mikki tucked her hair behind her ear. “I always thought it was weird she didn’t have any pictures of him in her office.”

“No, she had that photo of them on vacation. And that same picture was the background on her phone.”

“Was it? Huh.” Cameron looked around, then leaned askew to slip his own cell back into his pocket.

The doorbell chimed, making all of us jump. Cameron rose and clomped down the hall.

“It’s some