Page 65 of This Is How It Started
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up. You didn’t tell me the child bride was taking in boarders. What the fuck?”
“They’re not boarders. They’re only staying for a week. Brooke has kind of sort of put the house on Vrbo. You’ll die when I tell you how much these people are paying.”
Josie leans closer to the table. “How much?”
“Twelve thousand bucks. But that includes meals and light housekeeping.”
Her eyes grow wide. “You’re kidding me. Then again, I’m not surprised. The house is on the national register of gorgeousness, so yeah.”
“Get this, Brooke is doing all the cooking. She used to own a catering company with...wait for it...her ex-husband.”
The server comes to take our order, and against my better judgment I get the lemon soufflé. Hey, I earned it today. Josie gets the flourless chocolate cake, my second-favorite dessert on the menu. We both get lattes, which I know is déclassé after eleven a.m., but we’re not in Italy. So suck it!
“Okay, go back to the ex-husband,” Josie says once the server leaves. “What do we know about him?”
“Nothing. I didn’t even know he existed until a week ago.”
“Do you think your dad knew?”
“Probably.” A month ago, I would’ve said with absolute confidence, “Of course he did. Who doesn’t know about their spouse’s exes?” Now, all I have are two words: Beth. Hardesty.
I give Josie the rest of the skinny on Brooke and her Vrbo side hustle, the grief group sessions and how my stepmother is practically broke. I make her swear on her dog’s life that she won’t tell Hannah—or any of the other Golds.
“The grief meetings are good for you, Rach. You should keep going.”
I don’t argue with her, but attending the meetings with Brooke feels surreal—and to be honest, a little creepy. Hearing about her and my dad’s wedding anniversary was uncomfortable to say the least. Next, she’ll describe their sex life. All right, I sound incredibly childish, but it’s strange to hear her talk about her and my dad as a couple when I’ve spent their entire marriage waiting for him to go back to my mother.
Our desserts and coffees come, and I’m thankful for the reprieve. I don’t want to talk about death and grieving tonight. I just want a good old gossip session.
Josie dips her fork into the chocolate cake and takes a dainty bite. “You got Campbell to work on the pool house?”
Now she’s onto another topic I don’t want to talk about. “It was Brooke’s idea. Extra money for his new house and all that.”
Josie holds my gaze across the table, then slowly nods. “Right.”
I flip her the bird and do the opposite of dainty as I inhale soufflé. “Let me ask you something,” I say with my mouth full. Between this and Brooke’s pasta, I’m riding a carb high that’s better than sex. “Has Hannah said anything to you about Stephen?”
“Like what?” Josie pushes her plate at me in a time-honored tradition. We go halfsies on all our desserts.
I slide my soufflé her way, finding it difficult to part with it. “Like maybe he’s having an affair.” Or multiple affairs.
“No, she hasn’t told me anything.” Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before I can read it. And to cover it up—because I know she’s covering up something—she quickly says, “Wait a minute, who would have an affair with Stephen?”
We both laugh.
Stephen is actually a nice-looking guy. Tall, toned (he works out with a personal trainer every day), dark hair with a few strategic streaks of gray and brown eyes that kind of remind me of a puppy dog turned shark. It’s his personality that could use work.
I tell her about Adam’s sightings at the Fairmont and Harry Asia’s and how he was eating out of Legally Blonde’s bowl at Frank Dina’s.
“Wow,” she says, but her surprise seems feigned. “What are you planning to do with that information?”
If only I knew. “Adam and I keep going around and around on it. Brooke in so many words said we shouldn’t tell Hannah.”
“You told Brooke?” Josie’s eyes go wide.
“I guess it just kind of slipped out. Anyway, what do you think we should do?”
“I’m not sure.”
