“I just wish I didn’t wait until I was thirty-six to do it.”

“Why did you?”

I shrug. I could tell her that I’d fallen short of too many expectations to launch myself into another potential failure, or that I was too busy trying to keep my marriage together to try to fix myself. All of it is true, but you know what else is? “I neededsomeone to believe there was something more to me, and Amelie did.”

Her lips part for a moment before they bend down at the corners. “Amelie?”

“My mentor,” I explain, confused when her cheeks darken and she looks away. She looks almost...jealous. Did she think it was a man?

It hits me in a strange, warm wave. Because if that’s what this is, it means she cares. It means I’m not the only one feeling this thing crackling between us.

And it’s reckless, but I don’t hate it. I don’t want to push it away. I’m not used to being wanted for no reason, just like her. Not without guilt or compromise. So instead of backpedaling, I continue, “Just a friend.”

It’s a promise I want her to hear.

But I know I lost her when she sits and grabs the chopsticks. “Whatever. I’m happy for you, but my life is fine as it is.”

CHAPTER 12

Corn Dog Couture

Why not? It’s just a stupid concert!” are the first words I hear when I open the door to Beatrice and Charlotte’s penthouse in the afternoon.

Sounds like Charlotte didn’t get those extra points. Italsosounds like her life isn’t fine as it is.

“If it’s so stupid, then you don’t need to go.”

“Jesus—IswearI’m not going to eat anything. Or drink. I’ll just go and listen to the band?—”

“Why put yourself through temptation, Charlotte? You’re a model. Focus on that. You’ll have time for concerts when you’re old and your body is worthless.”

My mouth falls open, an icy wave rolling down my spine.Did she really just say that?

“You dragged me out here,” Charlotte spits. “You’re using me like you always do. I think at the very least, I deserve to?—”

With a clipped voice, Beatrice cuts her off. “Where is your ambition, Charlotte? Is ‘having fun’ all you care about?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you wanted, just a shittier version of her.”

Lips pinching, I listen without making a sound.

“If you’re so unhappy, then why don’t you leave?”

Silence.

I wait, and after a shrill “I hate you,” I hear Charlotte stomp closer. When she turns the corner, her teary eyes meet mine. They widen for a moment before she shouts, “Ugh!Do youalwayshave to be around?” Then she whirls toward the hallway off to the right and storms into her room, slamming the door so hard the walls shake.

Beatrice steps into view, composed as ever, her icy gaze locking onto mine like a sniper’s crosshairs. “You’re here.”

I clear my throat, adjusting the strap of my bag. “I...the fish needs time to?—”

“Come,” she says, turning and heading for the kitchen. “I need to talk to you.”

Must be my lucky day.

I hesitate, lingering in the doorway for a second before following. She’s already sitting at the island, sifting through a stack of papers.

“Gin and tonic.”