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“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t suit you.”
“I know. I’m not that fancy; I don’t like to show a lot. With all due respect,” she says, looking at my dress, where there’s a large slit that leaves my left thigh exposed.
“I’m used to dressing and undressing. I’m not ashamed to show my body anymore. But at the beginning of my career, I was much shyer. Therapy helped with the process.”
“And speaking of not being ashamed, I’m thinking about doing something crazy,” she says.
“What kind of something?”
“I’m running away to London. I’ll get a job. Live life.”
“What?”
“Do you think I’m not capable?”
“If you’re asking me about mental strength, I think anyone is capable of anything. I just don’t understand the reason for the sudden change.”
“I’ve been planning this for a long time. I want to get out from under my mother’s wing and go to Europe. I can’t take the pressure she’s putting on me to get married anymore. I finished college, but I can’t work because it would ‘embarrass the Turners’ good name,’” she says, mimicking her mother.
I laugh because she sounds just like her. “What do you need to carry out this plan?”
“Moral support, mostly.”
“Well, that you already have. Count on me for whatever you need. Actually, I just had an idea. There is a friend of Christos, Kamal. He is asheikhand a businessman. CEO, actually. My fiancé mentioned he was looking for an assistant in London.”
“My goodness! Do you think I could do that?”
“Well, you have some qualifications. As I understand it, he wants someone to travel with him and teach him Western culture and social etiquette.”
“Tips on social etiquette? Is he rude?”
“I have no idea. But if you want, I can talk to Christos about it.”
“Of course! Do you think this man would consider me for the job?”
I decide to be honest. “I don’t know. I’ve never met asheikhin my life. Unfortunately, he won’t be coming to my wedding because he has a commitment for the same week; otherwise, Christos could introduce the two of you. But I promise I’ll talk to my fiancé about it.”
The bathroom is empty, and after we’ve used the stalls, we touch up our makeup and talk about a new lipstick brand that’s just been released and doesn’t test on animals.
Suddenly, the door opens, and in the mirror, I see the last person I would ever imagine seeing tonight.
Ernestine Lambert, Pauline’s mother.
She is still a beautiful woman, although she’s a shadow of her former beauty. She’s well-dressed in a long black gown, completely comfortable as a high-society lady.
She looks surprised to see me. I think we’re both in shock, actually, but I recover first.
“Hello, you liar. What are you doing here?” I ask.
Yeah, I think the pregnancy hormones are working on me in a really crazy way. I’m in a phase where if someone pisses me off, I feel like ripping the person’s head off.
“Zoe, it’s a pleasure to see you again! Regarding your question, you weren’t the only one who got a billionaire, sweetheart.”
“I can’t say the same. I take no pleasure in seeing you again.” I turn to my cousin. “Madeline, can you go outside and make sure no one comes in?”
She leaves without arguing.
“We don’t have anything to talk about, Zoe. Or do you want to apologize for being that murderer’s lover?”
