Page 40 of Push & Pull
Every person’s body told a story. Every form, every face, every example of posture could tell Petra a tale for the ages, and they probably didn’t know it.I know, though.She could read people like they were large print books. That was true for Mrs. Giant Wedding Ring, and it was true for the woman who had undulated beneath Petra for half of the night.
Simone was like a weakened tiger surrounded by three undisputed queens of the jungle. Sure, her back was straight and her movements impeccable as she brought food up to her mouth and chewed like the respectable lady her mother undoubtedly raised her to be. Yet Petra saw the subtle signs of someone who was trapped in a web of her own deceit.Shoulders keep slumping, and she pulls them back before anyone notices. Her nose doesn’t slope that far downward, either. Not even when it’s in that book of hers.Her inability to maintain eye contact with “Shayla” either meant Mrs. Giant Wedding Ring was the ringmaster of this circus, or they had some unpleasant history. Once Shayla started yammering on about Zeta Nu, her husband, “Friday Choo,” and the big house in China, most of Petra’s suspicions were confirmed. Including why Simone was so weak around her.
“Was she at Hailey Lambert’s party?” That’s what Petra overheard when there was a lull in surrounding conversations. “Simone, sweetie, you havegotto ditch those losers. They’re only dragging you down, honey. How many stints in rehab have you had now?”
Hailey? Rehab?
Petra didn’t catch Simone’s response. Between the waiter bugging her about the order she’d never make, and the ideas swirling in her head, Petra wouldn’t hear Simone yelling through a bullhorn.All I know is that “Shayla” is coming for my friend and something about rehab.Simone and rehab. Petra should have known, honestly.
“I’m so proud of you. Several months. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”
Petra immediately caught the condescension dripping from Shayla’s voice.Oh, let me get my hands on her.Petra had half a mind to go up there and ask Mrs. Giant Wedding Ring whatshehad contributed to society.
In fact, she might do that.
If there was one thing Petra had learned in her life of grifting and swindling, it was that instinct was the best partner. It rarely failed her, let alone in situations where her life was not possibly on the line. The biggest paydays, both in the form of petty thievery and collecting information to sell to someone else later, came when Petra was inspired to act. If there was anyone in the restaurant of Capitol Hill Quarters making her get out of her seat and put on her grifting airs, it wasShayla.Or whatever her name was.
“Hi!” Petra cut off every protest about to erupt from the table. That went double for Simone’s shock and awe that would have been cute if it weren’t the humiliating moment about to bring them both down. “Sorry I’m late, sweetie, but you know how parking is around here!”
Simone was too flabbergasted to speak, which was exactly how Petra wanted her. The more opportunity Petra had to concoct a story that the other women would believe, the longer the charade could last.
“Ex… excuse me?” The gal in the amber velvet dress was the first to address Petra.No wonder I couldn’t hear her talking over there. She’s practically a mouse.“Who are you?”
“What!” With a smile that broadcasted every intact tooth in her mouth, Petra slapped a hand onto Simone’s shoulder. “You mean she didn’t tell you I was coming? Honey! Youhaveto introduce me to the friends you told me so much about. You know I’m shit with names.”
A woman with a scrunched button nose and a bouffant reminiscent of her own grandmother’s beehive grabbed her butter knife and acted like it would protect her from Petra’s meddling. “This is a private gathering.”
Simone’s head perked up, her bottom lip curled into her mouth and her breath frozen in her chest. “This is not happening,” she whispered.
“Oh,baby.” Petra grabbed a chair from her table and brought her iced tea over with it. The waiter was less than impressed, but also had the air of someone who wasn’t about to get involved. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had the chance to tell them about me.” She turned her attention to Mrs. Giant Wedding Ring. “Shayla, is it? Simone has described you to a T.”
“It’sShéla, but… close enough.”
“Shéla! That’s it! The one who recently married Asian royalty! Or so Simone made it sound. I have to admit, I don’t keep up with Page 6 these days.”
Simone peeked at Petra through spreading fingers. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“My husband is Frederick Chu,” Shéla said with a slight tilt of her head. “Who are you? A friend of Simone’s?”
“A friend! Oh, we’re so much more.” The more Petra talked, the more she sounded like a haughty Chicagoan who had gone to Katharine Hepburn’s School for Mid-Atlantic Girls.Dial it back!“Have you not told them?” When Petra turned her head back toward Simone, she was met with a silent plea tonotembarrass her. “Suppose you were getting around to it. My name is Petra, and Simone is my girlfriend.”
Silence befell the table. Simone saved the last of her honor by lowering her hands to her lap and revealing a stoic look to end Petra’s life.
“That’s right,” she croaked. “My… girlfriend. Petra.”
Shéla’s shoulders stiffened. “You told us you were single. What was that, again? Being by yourself? Loving yourself?”
“That’s something we were telling people before we decided to go public last night.” Petra’s arm rubbed against Simone’s. “You must have forgotten to tell your friends today, sweetie. I know how shy you can get about your relationships…”
Three pairs of eyebrows went up around the table. Apparently, Petra had miscalculated Simone’s willingness to talk about the women she was sleeping with.
“How utterly fascinating.” Shéla placed her elbows on the table, all of her attention turned to Petra as if she were the new exhibit at the local zoo. “She truly didn’t mention a thing about you. Who’s your family? Or are you one of Simone’s many,manyassistants?”
I’m learning more about you by the second, Simone.Truly, Petra had learned more about Simone from this short interaction than she had in two days of riding in a car and bedding the woman attempting to keep her shit together.
Petra had also anticipated this grilling about her family. Rich types like Shéla cared about blood and status more than anything else.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard of my family. We’re a much bigger deal in the Chicago area than out here. But if you really must know, my father is Finley Worthington from Forest Glen. You might have heard of us Worthingtons, actually. My father was the one who…”
