Page 62 of Queen of Ruin

I tug her close to me, feeling her body shake against mine.

“Be careful, Evangeline, or I will fuck that sweet cunt of yours while I bend you over the trunk.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she tests me.

“It would be worth a hundred tickets.”

24

ABOUT THE AGREEMENT

EVANGELINE

Being back in Washington is like being thrown back into the hornet’s nest. Clarksville felt like a safe bubble, but I knew it was time to get back to reality, or at least my version of it. That meant attending the first Board meeting of the new year for the Abigail Pershing Foundation.

I thought it was more of an informal meeting, maybe not folding chairs in a circle, but something adjacent. I’m not sure why I would even consider that with someone as poised and elegant as Audrina Ellwood running it.

As if proximity to the Supreme Court and the Shakespeare Library weren’t daunting enough, Bethany York is making a beeline straight towards me.

“Evangeline!” She takes me by the shoulders and gives me a light peck on the cheek, careful not to transfer her perfectly pale pink lipstick onto me. Her genuine enthusiasm at my arrival puts me at ease, and when she notices my knee-length pencil skirt and heels, she smiles her approval.

“How was your holiday?” she inquires, leading me into the conference room. “Darren said you went to the lake house.”

“Yes, it was very nice. It’s so beautiful there.” I set my purse on the table.

“I remember when they first built the cabin and we all went down for the weekend to break it in. Merrill had a good eye for decorating, and she would host the most sublime dinner parties,” Bethany beams, but there’s always a bit of sadness in her tone when she tells stories about Merrill.

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not as good a hostess as Merrill, but we all did manage to have a nice Thanksgiving,” I offer.

“I don’t think Darren would care if he ate dinner from a taco stand every night, so long as it was with you,” she surprises me by saying.

“Thank God we have Lottie, because as much as I love tacos, I don’t think I could have them every night,” I laugh.

“You and me both,” Bethany winks.

“I hope you’re not laughing at me! Dupont Circle is always such a mess, and I’m sorry I’m late.” Audrina leans in to give Bethany a kiss on her cheek, then does the same with me.

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Bethany teases. “Just laughing at our lack of homemaking skills.”

“Don’t ever go to Bethany’s for dinner unless it’s catered,” Audrina advises as she shucks her jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair.

“I will never live that down,” Bethany sighs.

“The duck was raw,” Audrina lets me in on the joke.

“Well, I’m not Martha Stewart that’s for sure, but I suppose now I’ll have time to learn,” Bethany jests.

“How long did you work for the National Archives Museum?” I probe.

Beside Bethany being an intimidating force, she’s also a very interesting person that I’d like to get to know better.

“Nearly thirty years. I was fortunate enough to get an internship while I was in college, and then I was hired on after I graduated.”

“That must have been a wonderful career.” I can’t help but feel a small pebble of jealousy. I loved the idea of being a journalist, but there was so much out there I hadn’t experienced. Lately, I’ve allowed myself to wonder what a different kind of life would be like. I’d been so focused on taking care of Mimi that I never wondered what I could do with my own life, especially with the money I’m about to acquire.

“It saw me through two divorces, so I suppose it was the only thing that was constant and loyal,” Bethany jests, bringing me out of my own thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I offer.

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