Click. The bastard had hung up. She pressed the button again. And again. She would buzz until Tony opened the door. Or lost his mind. Eventually, his voice came through the speaker. “Calm down, Kim.”
“I’ll calm the fuck down when you talk to me like a man!” she screamed into the tiny speaker. “You can’t hide from me, you cowardly fuck! I’ll buzz all your neighbors until someone lets me in and then I’ll—” BZZZZZT. It was the door unlocking.
Kim marched up the stairs to the Hoyles’ second-floor suite, her heart thudding in her chest from exertion and rage. The door swung open before she’d reached the landing and Tony appeared. He looked rumpled and handsome. A few weeks ago, she would have been ready to jump his bones. The thought made her ill. “Get inside,” he growled, and she knew she would have found his gruff tone erotic in their previous iteration.
She crossed the threshold into Tony’s abode. Despite her anger, she had to admire the refurbished apartment. Walls had been removed to open up the late-nineteenth-century space. Gleaming hardwood floors, an embossed tin ceiling, and elaborate cornices were indicative of the era, but modern furnishings and contemporary art pieces made the home current. The place had been decorated by a couple who knew art and design. Kim refocused herself. “How could you?”
“How could I what?”
“You told Amanda that Jeff used LSD.”
Tony gave an incredulous laugh. “What?”
“Lisa’s hired your wife’s law firm. We just had an examination for discovery and they knew about Jeff’s drugs. You’re the only person I told.”
“Jeff must have told someone.”
“He didn’t!” Kim screamed. “That incident nearly destroyed us! Why would he tell someone?”
“I don’t know. . . .” Tony ran his hands through his hair. He seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he said, “What do you want from me?”
“I just want to know . . . do you really hate me that much?”
“I don’t hate you,” he muttered, his eyes on some of his kids’ sporting equipment stacked in a corner.
“You must. You’re helping your wife’s firm destroy me. Jeff and I could lose everything.”
Tony looked at her then. “I don’t hate you. I feel sorry for you.”
Kim snorted. “Why?”
“You’re so unhappy. And you won’t even admit it to yourself.”
“I’m unhappy?” she barked. “If your life’s so perfect, why did you try to have an affair with me?”
“My life’s not perfect!” Tony yelled. “I’ve got plenty of fucking problems! My marriage is hanging by a thread. My career is a fucking joke. But at least I’m aware of it. . . .”
“I’m extremely aware that my life is a disaster,” Kim said. “And thanks to you, it’s about to get a hell of a lot worse!”
“I just tried to be there for you, Kim. You’re the one who made it sexual.”
Kim felt a surge of humiliation. “That’s a fucking lie! I’m not even attracted to you!”
“Really?” He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her hard on the mouth. His tongue pushed between her lips, pressing against her clenched teeth. She wanted to fight him, but her body was responding. She felt her jaw release and open up to his probing tongue, her back arched toward him as his hands gripped her ass. He was right: she was attracted to him. But only for a moment.
She pulled away and slapped him, hard, across the face. They stared at each other, chests heaving, both of them in shock. Kim had never hit anyone in her life, and it appeared that Tony had never been hit. Kim found her voice. “You make me sick.”
There was a metallic noise, a key fumbling in a lock, and Kim and Tony turned toward the door. It opened to reveal a heavyset Mexican woman, probably Kim’s age, trailed by two, sandy-haired kids: Ruby and Declan. The woman stopped short, clearly sensing that she had walked in on something intense. No one spoke for a moment, then Tony said, “Hey, guys,” in a hoarse voice.
Kim was still breathing hard and her head was swimming, but she had to pull herself together. She couldn’t let these children know that, mere moments ago, she was kissing and slapping their father. She addressed Tony in a professional voice. “Thanks for the information on Apex. I’ll forward it on to them.” The nanny and her charges cleared the way as Kim hurried out the door.
hannah
THIRTY-SEVEN DAYS AFTER
Ronni had been back at school for a week, but Hannah had yet to run into her. Phoebe Winslow, who was a Christian, so she was really nice to everyone, had been supporting Ronni and updated Hannah on her revised schedule. According to Phoebe, Ronni only came to school for half days and spent most of them talking with Mrs. Pittwell, the counselor, about her feelings. She spent the rest of her limited time going over the lessons she missed with a resource teacher. Phoebe said that Ronni was having a hard time and had already missed a couple of days. It was wrong to be relieved, but Hannah was. The less chance there was of running into Ronni, the better. Hannah spent every school day on edge, waiting to round a corner and find her old friend, disfigured, depressed, and probably ready to stab Hannah in the neck with a pencil. It didn’t help that this morning Hannah’s parents had gone to their lawyer’s office to face off against Ronni’s mom. There was no way that had gone well.
So Hannah nearly jumped out of her skin when she closed her locker to find a female face mere inches from hers. But this face had two eyes with crow’s-feet, and an unflattering haircut. “Mrs. Pittwell,” Hannah said, trying to compose herself, “you scared me.”
“Can we talk, Hannah?”
“I have English.”
“I’ll talk to Mr. Morrel. . . .”
Hannah obediently followed the older woman through the crowded halls to her office. As she trailed behind Mrs. Pittwell, she passed Noah and Ryan, another kid from his circle. Their expressions said it all: Shit. Hannah gave them a casual nod: Don’t worry. I got this. But she didn’t have it. She was terrified. The counselor had no reason to talk to her except about Ronni. And she knew it wouldn’t be good.
When they were enclosed in Mrs. Pittwell’s windowless office, she got to the point. “Ronni’s not doing well.”
“There’s a lawsuit,” Hannah said, her eyes spontaneously filling with tears. “Her mom is suing us.” Her voice cracked, and she silently berated her lack of control. Why couldn’t she be more like Lauren and tell this “do-gooder bitch” to leave her out of it? She wasn’t even Ronni’s best friend! Why was Mrs. Pittwell singling her out? But she couldn’t say any of that. If she spoke, she’d dissolve into sobs.
“I know about the lawsuit, hon. . . . But I think there’s an opportunity for you to be the most mature person in this whole situation. What do you think?”
Hannah shrugged. She didn’t know what being the most mature person entailed, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t up for the job.
“I know your parents are upset. And Ronni’s mom is, too. But Ronni just wants things to go back to normal. She needs her friends, Hannah.”