I was disappointed to see that Amelia had already lost some of her vacation glow. Her eyes looked tired and strained, and she was wearing the same clothes she’d worn yesterday when she left. She hugged me long and hard and then kissed me, and some of my earlier doubts evaporated in her arms. She was always like this—ethereal and elusive when I wasn’t around her, and solid and sure when I was. A lot of my fear, I knew, was based entirely on my own uncertainty about the possibility of a new job, not about Amelia. I’d simply projected some of my anxiety outward, and she’d become the target.
Though it was the last thing I needed, I poured us both a glass of wine, trying to whip up some liquid courage. When I brought it back into the living room, she had her head thrown back on the cushion, eyes closed. I sat down next to her, and she roused herself a little, blinking her tired eyes a few times and then focusing on me. She wore glasses at work, and little red ovals were imprinted on her nose, as if she’d had them on nonstop since I last saw her. In the dim light of my living room, her eyes were a dark, almost cobalt blue, and when she turned them to mine, a shiver of joy shot through me at her all-encompassing focus. This was one of her superpowers and possibly the single-most significant reason she was so good at her job. When she looked at you, the rest of the world seemed to drop away. You saw only her beautiful eyes.
“So tell me your news,” she said. “I’ve been curious about it all day.”
I hesitated, not certain how to begin. I knew I should just tell her everything from start to finish, but it was hard to know what to say. I chickened out and said the first thing that came to mind.
“Aunt Kate is getting married.”
Amelia’s face broke into a wide smile. “That’s excellent news. It’s been coming for a while now.” She paused and grinned slyly. “I actually knew about this a couple of weeks ago.”
I was stunned. “You did? How?”
“I helped Jim pick out the ring. He was clueless, and when he called me, he told me it was because he knew I had good taste.”
This information was so shocking, it was almost hard to believe. Jim is a quiet, reserved man—a sort of Sam Elliott type. The idea that he would contact Amelia, who was essentially a stranger, to help him make such a monumental decision stunned me, to say the least. Still, the more I thought about it, the less surprising it was. I’d seen the two of them chatting at family meals a few times. In fact, I was pretty sure she’d talked to him more than I had. They were both outsiders, both the quieter partner in their relationship, so perhaps friendliness between them made sense. Still, I was very surprised he’d called her.
“So you knew this was going to happen?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I mean, eventually. He didn’t tell me when he would pop the question. I suggested Valentine’s Day. Is that when he did it?”
I nodded, mute with shock.
She laughed. “I’m sorry, Chloé. He asked me to keep it a surprise. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t mind.” I paused and looked up at her. “Did you know that he and Aunt Kate are moving to Florida together?”
Now she looked surprised. She leaned forward and set her wineglass down before taking both of my hands. The gesture brought tears to my eyes. She knew how much the news would hurt me.
“No, honey. I didn’t,” she said. “I mean, he mentioned a couple of times how much he hated going back and forth, but if I thought anything, I guess I assumed they’d settle here. I’m so sorry to hear it.”
I laughed and wiped away a couple of tears. “I’m being an idiot. I’m happy for her, for them, I mean, but—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, Chloé. I know how much she means to you.”
We were quiet for a while as I composed myself, and then I told her about the wedding plans to date.
“So I get to sleep with the maid of honor?” she asked, grinning. “Nice.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I take it this is not the first time you’ve achieved that goal?”
She pretended to think about it and then shook her head. “Been there, done that. First at my brother Bobby’s wedding, and then at my brother Dean’s wedding. Oh, and at my uncle George’s wedding. I almost forgot about her.”
I pushed her arm, laughing. “Tramp.”
She held up her hands. “Guilty as charged.”
We sipped our wine awhile, and I knew that this was the time to tell her. I’d stalled long enough.
“There’s something else,” I finally said, almost spitting out the words.
She looked confused. “Something else what?”
“I mean, I have some other news.”
She seemed to sense my anxiety, as her brow creased. “What is it?”
“You know my friend Lana? In New York?”
She nodded.
“She got me an interview at New Orleans State University. For a position as a professor.”
She didn’t react except to grow incredibly still.
“I called the dean yesterday, and I had the interview this morning.”
She was quiet for a moment before she asked, “And how did it go?”
“It went really, really well. I-I’m pretty sure I have the job if I want it. I’ll have to do a teaching demonstration next week and talk with the other deans and the provost and whatnot, but I think they want me, Amelia. And I want the job, too.”
She was still just staring at me, her body tense. Her expression was neither happy nor upset, but neither was it blank. She seemed to be stuck somehow, as if absorbing the information had short-circuited her reactions. My own anxiety skyrocketed, and I started blabbering to get her to say something.
“I mean, it won’t be right away. They told me this morning that I wouldn’t start until fall term. I’ll have some meetings and things over the summer, but I wouldn’t actually teach until after Labor Day. I can wrap up some of the projects at work before then, and we can still do the trip to Paris together in June. I mean, if you want me to. If that still works for you. If, if, you know, you don’t want me to leave right away. I mean, I’d like to stay and work with you until I have to go. And even then, I could probably still help out a little after I start teaching. It’s full-time, but I can help out between classes.”
I might have rattled on like this forever just to fill in the emptiness in the room, but she finally seemed to shake herself awake. Still, her smile, when it came, was strained. I could see the pain in her eyes and in the way she was holding herself, but she leaned forward and drew me into a hug.
“It’s great news, Chloé. I’m so happy for you.”
I pulled back. “You don’t seem very happy.”
She smiled that same strained smile and looked away. For a moment I thought I saw tears in her eyes, but they were gone before I was sure I’d seen them.
She looked at me again. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. Of course it’s an amazing opportunity.”
“But you’re disappointed.” I said this rather than asked it, as the answer was obvious from her expression and body language.
She sighed and then rubbed her tired eyes. “I don’t mean to be disappointed, Chloé, but I am. I love working with you. You’re amazing at what you do, and I like being able to see you every day. Of course I knew it couldn’t last forever—you told me that the first time we met. I just thought I’d have you with me for a while longer. Another year or two, maybe.” She shook her head. “But that was stupid of me. I should have known that someone with your talents wouldn’t sit on the shelf for long. And I’m very glad it’s here in New Orleans and not somewhere else.”
“So you’re not upset with me?”
She smiled weakly again. “Of course I’m not, honey. I’m upset with myself. It was stupid of me to get my hopes up. I’d almost convinced myself you would stay forever.”
I couldn’t help the stab of guilt that followed her words. I knew how much she appreciated me at work. She’d told me time and again over the last few months how impossible things would be without me. And I also knew it would be difficult to find someone to replace me.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I really am.”
She laughed. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Chloé. You’re excited about your new job, and I’m shitting all over it. Don’t worry about me, for God’s sake. I’ll be fine.” She shook her head again. “I should be celebrating with you, not complaining.”
“Well, I don’t have the job quite yet. I mean, it’s not official.”
“But it will be,” she said. “I know it will. They would be stupid to pass up the opportunity to have you in their department.” She stood up. “In fact, this calls for a celebration. Do you have any champagne in the house?”
“No, I don’t.” I didn’t like the strange, almost maniacal look in her eyes.
“Damn,” she said, looking incredibly put out. “How can we celebrate without champagne?”
“I don’t need champagne, Amelia. Please just sit down and talk about this with me for a moment.”
“Are you crazy? After all these years, and all your schooling, you just want to sit and talk? We should be celebrating! Let’s go dancing somewhere!”
I could tell she was saying all of this and acting this way to distract us from her real feelings, and I wouldn’t have it. We’d come too far together to beat around the bush this way. We would have an honest conversation or we would fight, but we wouldn’t avoid this issue.
“Sit down, Amelia. Please.”
She looked surprised and then upset, but I saw her try to calm down before sitting next to me again. We sat there in silence for a while, and then she laughed, bitterly.
“What a fuckup I am, Chloé. I’m sorry. You see right through me now.”
“I should hope I do. Love sees all, and I love you, Amelia.”
Her eyes flickered up to mine, hopeful. “Even when I’m a complete asshole?”
“Even then.”
She sighed and looked me straight in the eyes. For the first time, I could see the depth of her pain. “I want to be happy for you, Chloé. I really do. And I know I will be—eventually. It’s just a shock, that’s all. And I shouldn’t be shocked. Like I said, I knew this was coming. Eventually.”
“But you want me to take the job?” I couldn’t keep the note of pleading from my voice.
She smiled, and this time the smile seemed more genuine. “Of course I do, Chloé. Of course. I would never, ever want you to change your plans for me. You’ve worked so hard for just this kind of thing. You deserve it. And I know you’ll be great at it.”
I met her smile, my eyes welling with tears. She’d finally said exactly what I needed to hear. We could move on from here and be stronger for it. I knew it.
“I love you,” she said. “I just want you to be happy. I’m sorry I didn’t think of that first. That’s all that matters to me.”
I stood up, and she looked surprised.
“Come on,” I said. “I want to show you something in the bedroom.”
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, I was disappointed to see Amelia’s side of the bed empty. She sent me a text explaining that she’d gone into work, the time mark on it long before the sun rose. Although she and I had been incredibly busy before our trip, our time away had still put several things behind schedule. I was a little guilty about not joining her today to help out, but on the other hand, I wasn’t about to turn down a couple more days off. This was the busy season at the office, and I would be back at it soon enough. God knows when I would have another day off.
I spent the day in my studio, happy to have time alone to paint. I didn’t worry about Amelia until much later, when I realized she hadn’t called or texted me all afternoon. That was unusual for her. Even on a busy day, she would send me an update or two, and today I had nothing from her. By dinnertime, I was getting anxious, and by late evening, I was really starting to panic. Unless her phone was dead, this was incredibly unlike her. I couldn’t help but think it might have something to do with our conversation the night before. She was likely still smarting from the idea of my departure and didn’t want to upset me by being less than supportive.
It hurt to know this about her, but on the other hand, I understood all too well that it was possible to be both happy and disappointed about a situation at the same time. Aunt Kate’s upcoming wedding presented the same situation for me. While I was excited and happy for her, I was also deeply hurt by the idea that she was going to move away. It was selfish of me, and I knew that, but that didn’t necessarily mean I could bury my hurt feelings immediately. The best thing I could do now, I knew, was simply avoid seeing Kate for a few days until I got used to the idea. I was pretty sure Amelia was doing the same thing.
Amelia finally texted close to midnight, apologizing for her silence. She blamed it on work, but I knew that wasn’t the whole story. I decided to let her have a day or two and then confront her if she didn’t get her head out of her ass.
My resolve to wait faltered on Sunday afternoon. I’d spent so much time by myself the last couple of days, I was actually starting to get lonely. Meghan was working all weekend, and I wasn’t ready to see Aunt Kate again, but mostly I wanted to see my girlfriend, and I wanted us to get past this. I put real clothes on for the first time in two days, and just as I was pulling on my jacket, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the local number calling, but as I got so many work calls on my cell, I answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Chloé? This is Daphne Waters. Amelia’s friend?”
It took me a moment to remember her. I’d met her once in New York at an extravagant dinner. She was a rich, older woman and a friend of Amelia’s family. She’d shown up at a party in New York with a posse of young, handsome men, all of whom were apparently paid arm candy to make her look powerful and attractive. I’d found her amusing and harmless until she set Amelia up with her ex-girlfriend Sara for a surprise lunch. Amelia hadn’t explained why she’d done this, but I’d gathered since that Daphne and Sara were old friends.
It took a lot of willpower to keep my response civil. “Hello, Miss Waters. How can I help you?”
“Ooh, Miss Waters, no less. You are a charmer. I haven’t been a ‘miss’ for twenty years or more, at least according to French custom.”
“Is there a purpose to your call?” I asked.
“Well, you have no reason to be so snappish, darling. This isn’t a social call. Amelia gave me your number.”
I was stunned. “Amelia did what?”
“She gave me your number because I’m doing a little work with her, silly. Didn’t she mention this to you?”
She hadn’t, but several months at Winters Corporation had taught me to play along with almost anything customers said. It didn’t pay to look like you had no idea what was happening in another part of the office. Still, I decided to remain a little evasive.
“What can I help you with, Ms. Waters?”
“Well, you see, darling, there’s a problem. Amelia told me she had you scheduled for a consultation with me this Wednesday, but I’m going out of town on Tuesday. It’s a last-minute thing, you see.”
“I’m sure if you call the office, Janet can reschedule at a time more convenient for you.”
“That’s just the problem. I’ve been calling and calling, and I can’t seem to get anyone on the line, and when I do, I get put on hold. I don’t know what’s happening over there at the office, but y’all need to get some more help to answer the phones. Anyway, I was hoping we could reschedule, just the two of us, and cut out the middleman, as it were.”
I was annoyed. This happened, occasionally, when a client was pushy enough to get my phone number, which was why I always asked Amelia and Janet to withhold it in almost every case. I could only imagine that Amelia had agreed to give it to her because she was a family friend.
“Okay, Ms. Waters. Let me get my schedule out, and we’ll see what I can do.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” she said. “I’m calling because I wanted to see if you’re available now.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I’m swamped before my trip, but I have the afternoon free today. I thought I would call and see if you’re busy.”
I hesitated before answering her. Technically, I was free, but on the other hand, I hated to set a precedent with any client that I could drop whatever I was doing and come at will, especially on a weekend. Still, I knew Daphne Waters was incredibly wealthy. I’d seen her entourage of followers, her gowns, and her jewelry, and I knew she had a large house in the French Quarter. For customers with that kind of money, it was usually worth being a little flexible with your schedule since it flattered them. Being rude to her might ruin the sale.
“Yes, I can meet you now,” I told her. “Shall I come to your house?”
“Oh no, that’s not necessary. I’m at the Club right now. Can you meet me here?”
“Certainly. I can be there shortly.”
“That’s wonderful, Chloé. Thank you so much. I’ll give your name to the gate.”
“I’m not really dressed for anything fancy. Is that all right?”
“Completely. It’s Sunday afternoon. The rules are relaxed around here now.”
“Okay. Give me fifteen minutes.”
I walked out the door a moment later and headed for my car. The New Orleans Country Club was actually somewhat close to work, and I headed in that direction on autopilot. While New Orleans has several more exclusive social clubs, any socialite like Daphne Waters nevertheless stayed on the rosters at the Club, for mostly sociopolitical purposes. It looked good to be on the books there, even if you weren’t interested in golf or tennis. I knew, for example, that Amelia and her entire family were lifelong members because of their generous donations and patronage, though I was pretty sure none of them set foot in there on a regular basis. Brushing elbows with the wealthy elite over the last few months had taught me several things, prime of which was that they liked to spend money on things that made them look good to others.
My name was indeed listed at the gate, and I think it also helped that I was driving a new Mercedes. Despite all my recent time around this kind of people, I still had terrible imposter syndrome. I was always terrified lest they see the real, near-impoverished me and drive me away like the poor cousin I was.
I held out my keys to the valet, who gave my clothing a once-over before taking them. While my outfit was nicer than the paint-splattered rags I’d been wearing the last couple of days, I was dressed very casually. I had on an old, comfy pair of jeans, a green canvas coat, and a blue pashmina. Trying to shrug off my appearance, I walked up the little stairs and inside, asking the host directions to the bar. He too looked me up and down before pointing the way, and I couldn’t help but flush warmly at the rudeness.
When I entered the bar, I was surprised to find it nearly empty. The sun was shining outside for the first time in days, and I’d seen several people on the golf course, enjoying the warmth. Then I remembered what Meghan had told us the other night about the weekend after Mardi Gras and wondered if it was also the case here. After drinking heavily for four or five days straight, people were taking the weekend off.
I spotted Daphne immediately and was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone. The person she was with had her back to me, and the sunlight coming in through the windows made it hard to see either one of them for a moment. Something about the set of the woman’s shoulders rang a dull bell of recognition in my head. I’d seen her somewhere, recently.
Daphne spotted me and waved, and as the other woman turned, the sunlight hid her features for a second. Then it all came together. It was the woman from the birthday gala—the one I’d seen several times from behind.
It was Sara.