“Sunny and I were just talking about how careful you have to be. Who you’re nice to, who you fire. Especially when you fire them for trying to stay loyal to their girlfriend.”
“Ryan fired him.”
“Because you asked him to,” Amber said.
I looked at Amber in disbelief. That wasn’t at all how that had happened, but she certainly wasn’t going to believe it. That was the trouble with being a liar. No one trusted your truth.
Charlie touched her shoulder. “Amber, I want to go,” he said.
She kissed his cheek. “We do have a reservation.”
“At the restaurant you can’t remember the name of? How will you ever find it?”
She smiled. “We’ll be okay,” she said.
She took Charlie’s hand, and they started walking down the street.
Then Amber turned around. “By the way . . . if you asked this person, the person who did this, I’m guessing they’d say it’s less about revenge and more about something else.”
“And what’s that?”
“Loyalty,” she said.
And with that she turned off of my block, onto another block going nowhere.
10
Danny’s new job site was a gorgeous apartment on Sixty-Fifth and Central Park West. He was redesigning the penthouse: a five-thousand-square-foot stunner complete with a fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a wraparound balcony. I showed up there at 10 A.M. the next morning in Danny’s favorite dress, a yellow twisty number, which I thought made me look like a tulip, but which he seemed to love. At least he had. Whether he’d love it now was a serious question mark.
Did I have a lot of nerve showing up there? Yes. Was it a Hail Mary? Yes. In my defense, he’d had two nights to calm down. He’d had two nights to digest the information that whatever had gone on with Ryan, it wasn’t going on anymore. And it couldn’t possibly compete with everything that was between the two of us.
The apartment looked like it was more than two days into construction—white oak wood floors already in place, paint slabs lining the walls. Before I had too much time to think about it, though, I spotted Danny.
He stood on the balcony in his hard hat, talking to his contractor, Ralph. The two of them were deep in conversation, which allowed me to sneak outside.
Ralph saw me before Danny did. Sixty-five-year-old Ralph, who looked away quickly, his face turning bright red. He had probably seen the photograph. The naked photograph. Which meant everyone probably had.
Ralph nudged Danny, who looked up and met my eyes. He didn’t try to hide how angry he was to see me there.
Ralph was already walking away, not able to get out of there quickly enough.
“Put a hard hat on her, Danny,” he called out.
Danny reached under the balcony railing and pulled out a hard hat, handing it over.
“Not that you’re going to be staying long enough to need it, but we really don’t need to get fined on the first day.”
Ordinarily, I would have complained, but I quickly put it on. “I’m sorry to just show up.”
“Not sorry enough not to do it, apparently,” he said.
So much for a couple of days tempering his anger.
“Did you speak to Sheila?” he said.
My defenses went up. Sheila was our lawyer, our personal lawyer, and she also handled contracts for Danny’s work.
“No,” I said, a little sharply.
“She’s been trying to reach you . . .”
“I’ll call her, but I need to talk to you.”
Danny looked annoyed. “No, you should probably just talk to Sheila.”
I ignored him, pushing through. “It was Amber.”
“What was Amber?”
“She was behind the hack. She showed up at our apartment last night to confess. Not confess, exactly, more like gloat.”
He looked confused. “Why would she do that?”
“Ruin my life or gloat about it?” I said. “Probably the same reasons. Jealousy. Competition. She already stole my book deal.”
I could see him processing this, not sure how to take it. Danny had always disliked Amber, thought she was sneaky and fake. I tried to take comfort in that, until I realized that was probably what he thought of me now too.
“How do you think . . . how did she get access to all your accounts?”
“Her boyfriend worked for the show for a minute. He was there the day they took all those photos. Most of those photos.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed, as if he were realizing something. “How does he play into this?”
I started to answer him, but he put his hands up, stopping me.
“Never mind. I don’t care.”
He held my eyes, daring me to ignore what he was saying. There would be no sympathy for me over what Amber did. Nor about the publisher and the lost book deal, the fight with Violet, what was happening with Meredith and Ryan. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want anything. Except for me to go away.
His walkie-talkie started going off, someone on the other end needing his attention. He picked it up. “I’ve got to go,” he said.
“Danny, please, if you would just—if you would let me walk you through how we got here.”
He stopped. “Walk me through how we got here?”
He shook his head, like this was the last conversation he wanted to have. He couldn’t seem to stop himself though.
“I started trying to trace it back these last few nights. What was the last true thing Sunny told me? The last time you felt like you? That’s what I’ve been trying to understand.”
This stopped me. “What do you mean?”
“I thought it wasn’t a big deal. Some producer guy is going to pay you a little money to be the face on a few recipes. I mean, I didn’t give a crap. I never gave a second of thought to whether Lucinda Roy was actually making her recipes.”
“That’s not her name,” I whispered.
“The point is, who cares? It’s just a recipe. It’s just a lifestyle internet show.”
I had a moment of hope. “That’s what I’m trying to say! Everything is getting blown out of proportion.”
“No, you’re not hearing me. It did matter. Because no one becomes terrible all at once. It happens in very small increments. And it paved the way. That little lie. It helped you tell a lot of important lies.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t lie about the important stuff.”
“Really? Maybe we should call Ryan in here and hash all that out.”
Maybe I should have felt guilty. I was guilty. I’d slept with Ryan. It was a mistake. But I’d known it right away. And I’d immediately known something else, which was how much I loved Danny. So, at this moment, I didn’t feel guilty at all. I felt angry. I felt angry because I had chosen Danny. And angry because, at this very moment, he was doing the opposite.
“It must be nice, being so flawless. Can’t you appreciate that I’m a victim here?”
“Right. Amber did this to you. Amber made up where you were from, Amber pretended Meredith’s recipes were hers, Amber slept with . . .”
He trailed off, too angry to say it. His walkie-talkie started going off again, other people trying to get his attention.
“Leave the hard hat by the elevator,” he said.
He started walking away, and I was desperate to stop him—to get him to hear me—which was the last moment you could make someone hear anything. Still, I couldn’t seem to stop pushing him.
“I’m still me, you know.”