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I nearly drop the receiver, my heart plummeting to my feet at the mention of her name. What could she possibly want with me? And why now, when Grayson and I are finally in such a blissful, secure place?
"Ah. I see," I manage, struggling to keep my voice even. "And to what do I owe the...pleasure of this call?"
She laughs, a tinkling sound that grates on my nerves. "Straight to the point. I can see why Grayson likes you."
I grit my teeth, in no mood for her games. "Is there something I can help you with? As I'm sure you can imagine, I have a rather full schedule to attend to."
"Of course, of course. I won't take up too much of your time. I was just hoping we could meet for coffee sometime this week? There are some things I'd like to discuss with you...woman to woman."
Every instinct in my body is screaming at me to refuse, to tell this woman to take a hike and leave my relationship alone. But some morbidly curious part of me, the part that has always wondered about Grayson's past and the women who came before me, finds itself agreeing before I can think better of it.
"Fine. I suppose I could carve out some time tomorrow afternoon. Shall we say...two o'clock at the Cafe Lumiere on Main Street?"
"Perfect. I look forward to our chat. Until tomorrow, then." And with that, she's gone, leaving me to stare at the phone in my hand and wonder what the hell I've just gotten myself into.
I spend the rest of the day in a distracted haze, my earlier enthusiasm dampened by the looming specter of tomorrow's meeting. What could Grayson's glamorous ex possibly want to discuss with me? What hidden agenda might she have up her designer sleeve?
By the time I drag myself home that evening, I'm a bundle of nerves.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, babe," my best friend Sarah remarks as we indulge in our weekly girls' night ritual of takeout Chinese and trashy reality TV. "What's going on in that overactive brain of yours?"
I hesitate, my chopsticks hovering over the container of kung pao chicken. Should I confide in Sarah about Sophia's cryptic invitation? Or would that be a form of betrayal, airing Grayson's past without his knowledge?
In the end, my desperate need for counsel wins out over my reservations. "Grayson's ex-girlfriend called me today," I blurt out, my eyes fixed on the colorful array of takeout containers littering my coffee table. "She wants to meet with me tomorrow afternoon to...talk."
Sarah's eyes go wide, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of shock. "Hold up. THE ex-girlfriend? The one who made his life a living hell before you came along?"
I nod miserably, my appetite suddenly deserting me. "She wouldn't say what it was about, just that she had some things she wanted to discuss with me, 'woman to woman.' What do you think that means? What could she possibly want with me now?"
Sarah sets down her container of lo mein, her expression turning pensive. "Well, it could be any number of things, really. Maybe she wants to warn you off, try to stake some kind of claim on Grayson. Or maybe she's sniffed out your growing success at Winthrop Industries and wants to leech off your rising star."
I blanch at the thought, my stomach churning with dread. "You don't think...you don't think she's trying to win Grayson back, do you? That she sees me as some kind of obstacle to be removed?"
Sarah reaches out, gripping my hand tightly in hers. "Oh, Amara. No. No, of course not. That man is unbelievably in love with you.” She squeezes my hand reassuringly and continues, "There's no way in hell some two-bit ex from his past is going to swoop in and steal him away. Not when he looks at you like you hung the damn moon and stars."
I manage a weak smile, trying to let her words soothe the anxious butterflies swarming in my gut. "I know, I know. I'm probably being ridiculous. It's just...what if seeing her stirs up old feelings for Grayson? What if it makes him realize that I'm not enough, that I'll never measure up to the glamorous women of his past?"
"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there," Sarah says firmly, her eyes flashing with fierce protectiveness. "You, Amara Jeffries, are a goddamn catch. You're brilliant, you're driven, you're gorgeous inside and out. Any man would be lucky to have you, and Grayson knows it."
She leans forward, her expression softening. "Don't let this hussy get in your head, babe. She's ancient history. Grayson chose you, and he continues to choose you every single day. That's what matters."
I feel my shoulders relax fractionally, the tight knot of anxiety in my chest loosening at her words. "You're right. I know you're right. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else. She is gorgeous. You should have seen her. And rich and cultured."
“But she’s not you. Who’s he with?”
“M-me.”
Sarah grins, reaching for her abandoned lo mein. "Damn straight. Now, let's stop wasting precious braincells on this thirsty ex and get back to the important business of judging the hell out of these Real Housewives."
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have all day. "Deal. And Sar? Thanks. For always knowing just what to say to talk me off the ledge."
"Anytime, babe. Anytime. That's what best friends are for."
The next day, I take extra care with my appearance before heading to Cafe Lumiere, determined to project an air of unflappable confidence and poise. I refuse to let Sophia see even a flicker of the insecurity that had plagued me the night before.
I spot her immediately upon entering the chic little coffee shop, her sleek blonde hair and designer ensemble standing out among the sea of caffeine-starved college students and bohemian artists. She wears her snow white cashmere sweater with a kind of regalia that can’t be taught, she was clearly born into it.
"Amara, darling. So good of you to make time for me," she purrs as I approach, air-kissing my cheek with a familiarity that sets my teeth on edge.
