expensive for the locals and too subdued for the tourists, the residents of Saddle River often looked no further than their own backyards to the elegantly overpriced charms of the Smoke & Whiskey.
The nightclub was in good form when Cassandra arrived. She was fashionably late and prepared with a newly restored manicure as she glided down from the heights of her Navigator and passed the keys for her SUV to the valet.
She sauntered up the solar light–lined walkway to the entrance where a host held the door for her. She promptly paused to bask in the recessed spotlights and let the crowd inside take in the view of her in all her chic splendor. As was to be expected, a low murmur of appreciation started up amidst the candle-lit interior as the tall, Amazonian brunette in killer Ferragamo pumps and a sleek Valentino dress surveyed her domain, finding it wanting.
Particularly when Tiffany appeared behind her, settling into an equally statuesque pose in her Manolo strappy stilettos—making her just a smidge taller—as she came to a glittering rest in her vintage Versace beside Cassandra.
“Lovely evening for a night out,” Tiffany purred. “I had no idea there was nightlife this close to home.”
Said nightlife was composed of a number of men and women at low, intimate tables talking over drinks while candles sparked and sputtered in dark alcoves, and the gentle strains of soft jazz came from an easily forgettable band on the stage across the room. Smoke drifted from dry ice placed in hidden recesses and gave the place its namesake, admirably reproducing the atmosphere of a Prohibition-era speakeasy. The club tried hard to pull off the air of “upper class dive,” but failed miserably thanks to the glint of crystal and glow of real teakwood from the bar and tables.
Cassandra eyed the bangles clinking on Tiffany’s wrist as the blonde airily brushed her hair back, revealing equally jangly earrings. Très out of style, but Cassandra delighted in not telling her that.
“Quite. If it gets too dull, we can always go to Manhattan,” Cassandra said, gesturing to the table where Vera, Heather, and Alexis had already settled, nursing drinks that glowed in the subdued light of the club. “Ah, there we are. Let’s go have a seat, shall we? You can meet the other ladies of Still Waters.”
Tiffany confidently took the lead; the other girls’ expressions ranged from wary to impressed at Cassandra’s restraint for allowing her to go first. Tiffany didn’t appear to notice the others’ discomfort as she swept around the table to shake hands as she was introduced. For her part, the alpha bitch was amused, finding this potential new blood to be the sort of headstrong woman necessary to build the Diamondfangs into a pack that might someday overcome the Moonwalkers.
“... and so,” Tiffany finished explaining her circumstances on moving to town as she shook Vera’s hand, meeting the woman’s eyes as her grip tightened uncomfortably. “I’ve only been in town for a couple weeks, but I think I’ll be settled in before long. The divorce is nearly final. I do have to say, while I’m pleased to find myself in such company, I can’t stay long tonight. We can meet again soon. I’m sure we’ll all be fast friends.”
Vera showed her teeth in the semblance of a smile, her eyes briefly taking on a glimmer of something unnatural as she held on to Tiffany’s hand long past when she should have let her go.
“Is that right? You look familiar. Are you sure you’ve only been in town for two weeks?”
Tiffany gave Vera a tight smile of her own, but said nothing, pulling her hand back hard enough that it was obviously an effort. Cassandra made a faint hissing noise between her teeth, and Vera gradually relented, looking away. Alexis sipped her drink, her expression turned wary and calculating as she watched the exchange, while Heather’s attention was focused on the band across the room.
“Quite sure,” Tiffany replied. “I haven’t been to New Jersey since, oh, before I was married. I used to travel extensively, so perhaps you saw me in the airport on my way to South Africa or Versailles.”
“South Africa?” One perfectly sculpted brow arched as Alexis regarded Tiffany over the rim of her drink, a sardonic twist to her cherry lips. “I can’t imagine what you’d be doing there. The place has nothing to offer but backward politics and savages, if you ask me.”
Tiffany’s smile turned murderous. “Visiting family, actually. My mother is from