Page 39 of Push & Pull
“Because she knew she wouldn’t make it in and would have been utterly devastated. Really was for the best. Besides,” Shéla sat back with her mimosa in her hand, “it’s really not that difficult to kick a bad habit when you put your mind to it.” She flashed a fake smile toward Simone. “Which you seem to have, dear Simone. I’m so proud of you. Several months. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”
Simone gritted her teeth. “Thank you.” She didn’t dare bring up Shéla’s own history.She got off easy if you ask me.Then again, Simone didn’t know the intricate details of Shéla’s drug use over the years. Maybe she really was a casual user who could “quit whenever she wanted.” Maybe she had been to rehab without anyone knowing. Her family was powerful enough to make sure it stayed hushed – especially if she was to marry someone like Freddie Chu.
“Drugs are disgusting,” Phyllis snapped. “I can’t believe how much of it I saw in school. It almost made me leave.”
Cady rolled her eyes. “Youdidleave the house, remember?”
“I meant leave the sorority!”
“You’re a Zeta for life, dear,” Shéla said. “That’s…”
She was distracted by something – or someone – not too far from Simone’s shoulder. When everyone at the table turned around to gawk, Simone almost died.
“Hi!” Petra, dressed in a fitted blazer that hadnotbeen in her possession an hour ago, lifted her hand in greeting. “Sorry I’m late, sweetie, but you know how parking is around here!”
There was no explanation for this, and that was what both excited – and terrified – Simone the most.
Chapter 15
Petrahadn’tmeanttoimpose upon Simone’s party. She swore it.
She simply… ended up there. Through a series of accidents.Yes. Let’s call it an accident.
It started with her preemptively checking in at the front desk under Simone’s reservation. Although her travel partner had called ahead and squared everything, all the way down to Petra’s details, the front desk manager was less than impressed with how early they were. Of course, they would hang on to the bags and suitcases, but check-in was not available until three. Whatever would Petra do?
For one thing, she wasverycurious about what Simone was up to.
Could she help it? Simone was an enigma. Even for the heiress type who hung out with the likes of Hailey Lambert, Simone had more going on between the ears. Besides, the better the sex, the more Petra became curious about the woman behind the orgasms.
It hadn’t taken long for Petra to deduce Simone was meeting frenemies. What kind, and from what time in her life? That would require a deeper dive and a level of social engineering she wasn’t comfortable deploying upon the woman who kept to herself in the passenger seat of the rental car. Yet Petra would bet the five bucks she found in Samson’s wife’s wallet that Simone was meeting up with a gaggle of haughty girls who made her more self-conscious than a beauty pageant. Simone hadn’t worn makeup since the night of Hailey’s party. Nor had she given two shits about how fancy her clothes were. For her to put in that much effort, even to go as far as to check her makeupfour times,meant she was having lunch with judgmental women. Probably ones she had a history with and wanted to impress for some asinine reason.
Sure enough, the brunch group wasn’t too far from the entrance of the hotel restaurant. Petra saw the back of Simone’s bottle blond head and attempted to listen in. Unfortunately, the chatter and clanking of dishes were too much in the sunny brunch spot that sported specials like Eggs Benedict with Fresh Basil Hollandaise and Wild Caught Salmon Fileted in Lemon Sauce.
Hmph.
The only way Petra was getting in there was through the host, whose wrinkle-free collared shirt and pressed pants scrutinized every finely dressed guest. While there was no sign saying “no hoodies,” Petra had a feeling that she’d be kicked to the curb for daring to grace the restaurant of Capitol Hill Quarters in anything less than a frilly dress or a pantsuit like Simone’s.
She didn’t have anything like that in her things. Nor did Simone have a spare. That was the same jacket she had been wearing at Hailey’s party.
Plan B it is then.Petra returned to the luggage room, where she slipped past the bellhop and helped herself to a woman’s black jacket hanging on the coat rack in the corner. Petra didn’t care that there was a camera pointed at her right now. She knew that, while this hotel was certainly stylish and expensive, it wasn’t catering to princes and CEOs that required 24/7 eyes-on cameras. As long as she returned the jacket later, she was fine!
Too bad the first one didn’t fit right. She had to at least look like she belonged there.
The second one snapped over her T-shirt.Good thing I wore my nice jeans today.The ones that made her ass look great, perfect for taunting Simone all day long. They also happened to go with her borrowed jacket.Oh, good, I look like I dressed this way on purpose.She tucked her hair behind her ears for good measure before approaching the restaurant across the hobby.
“Do you have a table for one available?” Petra was grateful for the mask that hid the fact she wore no makeup beneath it. It would be her luck that this place required it for everyone with a certain set of genitalia. “Preferably in that sunny corner over there?” She had to be behind Simone. If she saw Petra, the game was up. “Oh, it’slovely.”
The host looked at her as if he thought,“Great. Another one.”Petra hadn’t been sure what accent to lead with, but Chipper Midwestern Heiress often got her far.You take one part Hailey Lambert and mix it with my foster mom. Presto. I’m a Minnesotan timber heiress.
She was taken to a table close enough to Simone’s that she could overhear the louder parts of the conversation. Even better, she was in perfect line of sight of someone’s mouth. Specifically, the woman with long dark hair and a blue and white dress. Oh, she looked like ashithead and a half! The way she sat with one foot lazily twirling in the air and her mimosa perpetually away from her prim lips made Petra gag.
The downside of this was that Petra could hardly afford anything on the menu. When pressed, she ordered a $10 iced tea that probably came with a lemon wedge and nothing more. She’d be damned if she was ordering one of the $30 plates, though.
The quartet was already on their main course, Simone’s chef salad barely big enough to feed a 5’9 woman, let alone Petra. Yet that wasn’t the most important thing. What Petra wanted to know was who these women were – and why did they have her new friend all in a tizzy?
She kept reading the words Zeta Nu on the black-haired one’s lips. Somebody called her “Sheila.” Or was it “Shayla?” Every time Petra started sussing out who was who in this bevy of billionaire heiresses, someone blocked a pair of lips or the sound of another table laughing drowned out the fragments.Let’s go with Shayla.The first thing Petra noticed about her was the insufferable look permanently etched on her face. This was a woman who thought she was the hottest shit in the room.While simultaneously huffing her own farts and declaring that her shit doesn’t stink!The hunk of rock on her left hand broadcasted to the whole world that she was married to someone with means.That’s an old-fashioned European cut. Could be an heirloom, but it also looks too new. Hmm…She was on the verge of declaring this Shayla as being married to an Asian hotshot when she was almost caught staring. Besides, the waiter had arrived with the overpriced iced tea that tasted like something Nestle would pump into a PET bottle.
Simone, though…oof.
