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Her life was beginning to spiral. She wasn’t sure where she stood in her marriage. Her husband was likely having an affair. Her only client was falling for her husband. Her company hadn’t earned a dime. She still owed a sizeable sum of money to her in-laws.
Not knowing what else to do, Eliza pressed on, forcing herself to go about her business as usual. September melted into October, the last of the fall heat wave rearing its scorching head as the palm trees waved, oblivious to the change in seasons. Eliza wiped her brow with her sleeve and took one last look at the living room. It was good enough. Clean enough. Practically sterile.
The last thing Eliza wanted to do these days was entertain, but she’d offered to start a book club for Marguerite’s work, and she refused to renege on her promises. She’d scheduled the first official meeting for one afternoon in October, a small get-together to kick things off. She’d follow it up with a larger event early in the new year once early copies of Be Free were available.
With an hour to spare before her friends arrived, Eliza opted for a quick shower and a change of clothes. The simple routine made her feel much better, much closer to her former self, though at this point, Eliza wasn’t sure that was a good thing. She wasn’t sure she remembered how to be her former self. Everything—and nothing—had changed.
She puttered around in the kitchen, fiddling with the canapés as she waited for her guests. A crystal decanter held a lush red wine that would accompany the appetizers. Bottles of water, cans of Diet Coke, and pitchers of lemonade sat chilling in a quaint galvanized metal tub propped against one end of the long counter. Her clean copy of Marguerite’s book sat waiting to be opened.
The doorbell rang, spurring Eliza into action. She made her way to the front entrance and glued on her best welcoming expression. She opened the door to reveal her first guest waiting on the steps.
“Hello,” Penny said after a slight hesitation. “I realize I’m early, once again. Ridiculously early. It’s a bad habit of mine. Shall I come back in twenty minutes?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everything’s ready, and the wine won’t drink itself.”
Eliza ushered the young woman inside, hiding an amused twitch of her lips as she noted the car parked out front. Penny drove a beat-up Cadillac that looked like it belonged in Compton, not the upper end of Beverly Hills. Eliza admired the girl for driving it anyway.
Penny practically tiptoed into the kitchen. Eliza watched the young woman’s careful movements with curiosity and wondered again why she’d accepted the invitation. Then again, Eliza herself wasn’t innocent in the matter. One of the reasons she’d extended the book club invitation to Penny in the first place was because she’d wanted to get closer to the woman sleeping with her husband.
“What a beautiful house!” Penny gaped at the long marble island. “Oh my stars. It is just gorgeous. I thought this sort of place only existed in movies.”
I’ll bet you did, Eliza thought wryly. Judging by the piece of junk parked at her curb, Eliza suspected the young woman’s apartment wasn’t much better than her vehicle. She briefly wondered if Roman took her to nice places—fancy hotels, spas, fine dining—or if they screwed in back alleys and dirty motels because it upped the stakes. Then she brushed the thought away and went for the canapés.
“Can I tempt you into a glass of wine?” Eliza raised the decanter.
“Oh, no.” Penny rested a hand on her stomach and made a face. “I’m feeling a little under the weather. Not, you know, contagious or anything. Bit of an upset stomach.”
“This is very good wine,” Eliza encouraged. “Plus, alcohol kills the bad bacteria. It’s actually good for you.”
“I shouldn’t really.”
“It’s just not book club without wine.” Eliza pulled down two glasses. “I hope you don’t mind if I pour some for myself.”
“Please, go ahead.”
Eliza went ahead and took a sip. “How are you adjusting to life in the city? You said you’re from the Midwest?”
“I’m adjusting.” Penny’s affirmative words were belittled by the furrowing of her brow. “It can be hard some days. Are you from the area?”
“I came over from Beijing to study at UCLA, so I understand what you’re going through. It’s lonely without family. Especially out here. Something about this city wrings it out of you.”
“Yes!” Penny’s eyes widened with agreement. “You just can’t understand unless you’ve been through it. Sometimes I feel so stupid for giving up my life back home—where I had everything—to come out here where I have nothing.”
Against all the odds, Eliza found herself softening further toward this young woman. Two lost souls felled before the same dark knight. Was Penny really all that different than Eliza had been when she’d first arrived in Los Angeles? Innocent, hopeful, a promising transplant to a starry-eyed city who had fallen in love with Roman’s charms?
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Eliza said. “If you don’t try, you’ll never know if you could have succeeded. I’d rather die trying.”
“Me too. I can’t imagine how it feels to be at the top. I mean, look at you. It’s all worth it, huh? All the hard work?”
Eliza pressed the wineglass hard against her bottom lip to keep from giving her honest answer. Because the honest answer wasn’t pretty, just like her life. Her hard work had earned her a husband who strayed and finances that were in ruins. It had earned her a constant state of anxiety that droned endlessly in the background, the buzz, buzz, buzz of a persistent bee.
But she couldn’t say any of that. Penny was so desperately starved for hope that it was almost pathetic. She’d opened to Eliza like a flower to the sun, leaning hungrily toward her in search of friendship. Eliza couldn’t destroy the last vestiges of naive hope. If Penny wilted, it would be of her own doing.
“Everything in life comes at a cost.” Eliza compromised with the gray line between truth and lies. “There are always consequences.”
Blinking, Penny leaned against the counter. Eliza wondered if she was thinking of her affair with Roman and sizing up what Eliza knew. Consequences, consequences.
Not for the first time, Eliza wondered why she had invited Penny into her home. The emailed invitation had been crafted late at night and accompanied by a heady dose of wine-fueled confidence. The next morning, when Eliza had woken up with a headache and a response in her inbox, it had been too late to back out.
