Karen raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Yes. I want to appear strong like I was before this whole divorce. If I chicken out, people will talk. Besides, I’ll be fine as long as you’re there with me, and you just make sure I don’t do anything stupid,” I said with a nod.
“Of course. I’ll be by your side the entire evening.”
“And also, don’t be nice to Crystal.”
“I will try,” Karen said with a half smile.
I looked down at my hands, which were adorned with half a dozen rings, and then back at Karen. “I hope to God this event goes well,” I confessed. “Because if it doesn’t, I don’t think I’ll survive this town.”
Karen gave me an encouraging smile. “It’ll go perfectly. I promise.”
12
Olivia
It was the night of the gala, one of the many events that were put on for the elite of Buckhead. It was highly exclusive, and it recognized those that went above and beyond for our community, basically those that were successful in everything from politics to business to art and more. Although it was about honoring members of our community and raising money for some charity (I was never sure what charity it was for), deep down it was truly about honoring ourselves. The women dressed up in their most expensive gowns, trying to outdo one another. The men wrote large checks to compensate for other areas in which they were lacking. And this was the last event Shannon would ever lead. It was important that it not go well.
A week had passed since my tiff with Jenny and Shannon, and I hadn’t spoken to either of them. I had every intention of patching things up with Jenny, but time slipped away from me, and personally, I didn’t care, but now I was stuck doing my own hair and makeup. I needed to look my absolute best. After all, it would be I who was head of the Women’s Foundation from this point on.
“Goddamn it!” I raked my eyelashes with mascara, slipping up and getting some on my eyelid.
“Fuck!”
I threw down the mascara wand and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was straightened, but it looked as if I did it. It wasn’t the blowout I was going for, and my makeup was half done. I had spent the day watching YouTube videos, the likes of Jaclyn Hill and Jeffree Star, trying to perfect a smoky eye and sky-high lashes, but no such luck. How the hell did they make it look so easy?
“You almost ready?” Dean asked, entering the bedroom wearing a tuxedo. I turned from my vanity to look at him. He was rugged in a very Bond-villain kind of way with a permanent five o’clock salt-and-pepper shadow that never seemed to shrink or grow. It perfectly complimented his defined jawline and strong cheekbones. Even though he was wearing a tux that covered his body full of tattoos, you could see how ripped he was underneath. He cleaned up very nicely.
“Does it look like I’m almost ready?” Sarcasm enveloped my question. I was still in my robe, and I looked average . . . like Karen.
“Where’s Jenny? I thought she was doing your hair and makeup.” He walked to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.
I turned back, looking in the mirror at myself and then at him. I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips. “I told you we got into a fight.”
“That was a week ago. You haven’t apologized yet?” He took a seat on the bed behind me.
“Why should I have to apologize? She was wrong. Not me!” I jerked my head in his direction and scowled.
“Babe. You went into that salon, her place of business, and started a fight with Shannon. It sounds like you should be the one who apologizes. And look, we still have an hour before we have to leave. If you call her now, maybe she can swing by and do your hair and makeup.”
“I don’t want to,” I huffed. He was right. Despite being such a hothead about his own issues, Dean could be pretty rational when it came to mine.
“Yeah, so? I do lots of things I don’t want to do. It’s called being an adult, Olivia.”
I gave him a nasty look and folded my arms in front of my chest.
“How are you getting along with Bryce’s new wife, Crystal?” he asked, changing the subject.
I stood from the vanity and paced back and forth. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
I started pulling out a couple of dresses from the large walk-in closet and laying them on our California king bed. It was adorned in the richest silk sheets and an oversized comforter that was stuffed with goose feathers. “I mean both interactions I’ve had with her haven’t been great. But it wasn’t my fault. Karen worked me up the first time I met her. And Shannon and Jenny worked me up this last time. Plus, I’m under a lot of stress with my new position.”
“Oh, come on.” Dean stood up and grabbed my wrists, pulling me into him. “You need to make nice with those women. Stop with the drama or you’re going to end up ostracized like Shannon. Is that what you want?” He pulled my chin up, looking me in the eyes.
“No,” I said, hanging my head. His question was clearly rhetorical, but Dean liked to pretend he was intelligent by asking dumb questions that required no answer. He knew that being considered of less value than others was my one and only fear. I didn’t fear death. I feared being nothing.
“Good. Well, you can start by calling Jenny and apologizing to her. Then, tonight, please no drama. Just be pleasant. Are you capable of being pleasant?” He pulled my chin back up, so our eyes met again. Dean knew me inside and out. He knew I was capable of being something I’m not. Another dumb rhetorical question.
“I can try,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Good girl.” He kissed me on the forehead and stepped away. “I’ll be downstairs. I have some calls to make.”
I let out a huff. I only put up with his patronizing because I knew it made him feel better about himself, which made him perform his job better, which afforded me anything and everything I could ever want. It was the circle of life—or better yet, wealth—and I was willing to play the game . . . for now.
I walked to the vanity and examined myself in the mirror. This night was so important to me. I needed the women of Buckhead to love me no matter what. If they had to love me out of fear, I was fine with that too. I needed them to fall back in line . . . right behind me. My social circle was coming apart, and I had to put it back together—minus Shannon, of course. She was dead to me—had been for years. Crystal would take her place. This was my evening. I picked up my cell phone, took a deep breath, and repeated to myself in the mirror, “Don’t be a bitch. Don’t be a bitch.” I smiled a devilish grin and dialed Jenny.
13
Crystal
I was anxious about the upcoming evening as I sat beside Bryce in the limo. I didn’t want to go, but Bryce was being honored at the gala, and he would make a speech. This night was very important to him. A long green dress with a high slit from some designer I had never heard of hugged my body, a little too tightly if you asked me. My hair was pulled into a gorgeous updo, and my makeup was bronzed and glowy, thanks to Jenny. Bryce slid his hand toward me and grabbed mine. I looked over at him. He was dressed in a fitted tux. He smiled that million-dollar smile, and I returned a much smaller one.
“Where’s your gold bag? The one I just bought you?” he asked. Bryce always noticed trivial things like that.
I glanced down at my silver purse. “I accidentally left it at the salon earlier today. I was in such a hurry to get back and change, so we wouldn’t be late,” I said with a smile. “I know this is important to you.”
He smiled back. “Just don’t lose it. It’s very expensive.”
I gave a slight nod.