Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Lenny? Oh my god it is you, Lenny!” the voice exclaims.
Nine releases my chin, and we both turn to face Lori and her husband Penn. Lori is dressed like the typical Stepford wife she is in a fifties-style white sundress and matching flats. Her bleached blonde hair in an elaborate up-do highlighting her long neck and the double string of pearls around it.
Penn is wearing a yellow polo shirt complete with a pink sweater tied around his neck, long white cargo shorts, and brown leather boat shoes with anchors embedded on the tops. I cringe. Not just because it’s a terrible look for a man, one that ages him at least ten years, but it’s also how Jared dressed. It took me until this very moment to realize how nauseating I found the look.
“Lori, Penn, it’s nice to see you both again,” I lie through my teeth. Literally, my teeth gnash together, and I’m trying not to grind them out of my skull.
Their nanny, Ined, walks behind them quietly with their two clean and similarly-dressed, miserable-looking toddlers in tow in an expensive double stroller. The nanny walks several feet away and stops, probably having been instructed to neither be seen nor heard when Lori and Penn are talking to anyone who isn’t her or the children.
“Hello, Ined,” I call out, just to get a rise out of Lori.
Ined is about to smile, then reconsiders, dropping her eyes back to the children.
“Don’t bother the help, Lenny. Can’t you see? Ined is working.”
“Oh, how silly of me,” I say sarcastically with my hand to my chest. “Greeting the help? What was I thinking?”
Nine steps to the beverage stand beside us and orders two beers.
Lori’s smile is as fake as mine, and I don’t miss the elbow to the ribs she gives Penn who forces his own even faker smile. Only his isn’t as practiced as Lori’s, and the result is a look that tells me he might be about to pass gas.
He’s also staring at Nine like he recognizes him but I can’t for the life of me think of how the two would know each other.
“Lenny, it’s so good to see you,” Lori sings, giving me a fake air kiss on each side of my cheek. I don’t reciprocate and stand still until her little show is over.
She stands back and points to my backward ball cap and off the shoulder blouse. “That’s…a new look for you,” she says. Her attention turns to Nine who comes up beside me and hands me a beer. “And so is this.” She points to Nine with her skinny French manicured finger.
“He’s not a this,” I snap. “This, is Nine. Nine, this is Lori and Penn. I met Lori through Jared. Penn is his best friend.”
“Was,” Penn corrects. “I haven’t heard from Jared, and frankly, with all the chatter around town about the mess he’s made of everyone’s investment accounts, I don’t want to,” he says. “It reflects poorly on me that I was ever his friend to begin with, and I won’t have that man or anyone associated with him staining my family’s good name.”
“So, that’s the real reason you didn’t want me to stay with you,” I say, not able to hold back any longer. “Because you didn’t want people to talk about you? Because of your reputation?”
Nine remains silent, as if he’s standing guard between me and their ability to hurt me more than they already have.
Lori’s face twists in ‘holier than thou’ look, but I don’t miss the spark of lust in her eyes as she rakes Nine over while ignoring my accusation. Or, as I like to think of it, my reality check.
Penn clears his throat, forcing his wife to stop her ogling. He squints at Nine. “I know you from somewhere.”
Nine nods. “We met on a beach once. You were with a couple of friends.”
Pen’s eyes go wide and his mouth goes silent.
I hear Nine’s almost inaudible chuckle.
Lori turns her attention back to me. “Yes, about that. It wasn’t you. I told you as much. But, I am sorry I couldn’t put you up in the guest house. You know how remodeling goes.”
Sorry? She doesn’t sound sorry. In fact, the way she keeps looking over my shoulder tells me that she’s worried we’ll be spotted together.
“You were putting tile down in a small bathroom,” I point out. “Not tearing the house down and starting over. We were friends, and you left me hanging when I needed you most.”
Lori picks at pretend lint on the white collar of her floral sundress, like she’s growing bored of this conversation. “Yes, and you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to supervise that little project. Especially since my Italian isn’t what it used to be. I mean, when Penn and I were in Tuscany, I was practically fluent, but since…”