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“Pregnant?” Marguerite’s voice was a feeble whimper.
The faint echo of the doorbell resounded downstairs. Eliza tilted her head to listen, then thumbed over her shoulder. “As a matter of fact, that’s probably Penny. I asked her to come early to help set up.”
“You have to listen to me,” Marguerite pleaded.
“I don’t have to do much of anything.” Eliza shrugged, feeling a great weight lift from her shoulders. “But my offer stands. I don’t think the self-help world would appreciate a story about their beloved guru found sleeping with a man who was not only married but who had recently knocked up one of his students.”
“Please, I’ll do anything. Don’t ruin me.”
“This isn’t about you,” Eliza said. “This has never been about you. All I want is the money we agreed upon for the entire year. That’s it. Then you can consider our relationship terminated.”
“That’s blackmail,” Marguerite said. “This isn’t my fault!”
Eliza gave a deep, ugly chuckle. “Don’t get me started on blackmail. If you’d like to go there, let’s discuss a few other things. We’ll start with your fake veganism, then move on to the stores of plastic straws you stash in your purse while shouting publicly that anyone holding such a dastardly weapon is single-handedly ruining the world. From there, we can chat about the raw food trend you supposedly adhere to—”
“I’ll get you your money,” Marguerite said. “Give me a week.”
“Fine.” Eliza turned to Roman. “Honey, we’re done. Marguerite’s plan worked. This is it. I don’t want to speak to you again. We’ll let the lawyers handle our assets.”
“Eliza, don’t be rash—” Roman started.
“This”—Eliza waved her hand—“is you speaking to me.”
The doorbell rang again.
Eliza turned, jogged downstairs to greet her guest, and didn’t look back.
_______________________________
Eliza spun the steering wheel and made a sharp left, not bothering with a blinker. She barely bothered with the brakes.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” Anne sat in the passenger’s seat, her knuckles gripping the safety handle for balance. “You can tell us—”
“I’ll tell you when we get there,” Eliza said shortly. “Did you finish the phone calls?”
“I sent out texts to the guest list,” Anne said. “The attendees know book club is canceled.”
“Thank you.”
“You are aware that we have a pregnant woman in the back of the car,” Anne murmured feebly. “I’m sure she would like to make it there alive. I want to make it there alive, too, so I can hear what you have to say. Where is there by the way? Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“It’s fine.” Eliza’s voice was a thin blade—an icicle on a cold winter’s morning, reflecting a brilliant shade of sunlight. “Here is there.”
The Garbanzo’s sign flickered above the three women as they exited the car, Penny and Anne moving slowly, a bit shakily, as they tested their footing and seemed surprised to find themselves on solid ground. Eliza caught Penny glancing up and down the street as if looking for their destination.
When Eliza led them into Garbanzo’s, Penny’s eyebrow raised, but she didn’t make a peep about their dismal surroundings.
“Eliza, Annie,” Uncle Joe called from behind the bar. “You brought a friend! Pretty thing, too. How you doin’, little mama?”
Penny looked at Eliza first, then Anne. Then down at her stomach as if she couldn’t quite believe Uncle Joe was talking to her.
“He’s an old friend,” Anne muttered to Penny. “Don’t mind him.”
Eliza led the way across the room to the usual table. Penny scurried close behind. Once all three women had their backsides firmly stuck to the vinyl seats, Anne and Penny looked expectantly across the table. Eliza waited until Uncle Joe had deposited four shots of tequila in front of them.
“Can I get a glass of water?” Penny asked.
Anne raised a hand. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap.”
