Page 32 of The Marriage Narrative
“What?No,” Jordan said.
“Alfie, I don’t want to hear it.”
Zinnia’s entire body tensed on instinct. Her pulse jumped from fine to fleeing, but she held still as Amber linked their arms together.
“I’m spending the morning with my daughter-in-law. Why else would you bring her here if you didn’t want me to get to know her?”
Jordan considered them both with a grim expression. “Can you give us five minutes?” He spoke to his mom but kept his eyes on Zinnia. “I need to tell her something.”
That look from him, the way it resonated inside her clear as a ringing bell, was enough to transform her doubts into confirmation. Staying was the right choice.
Emotionally, the invisible string between them was threadbare, but what was left held fast.
Contractually, Zaffre lawyers were likely on standby and ready to sue. She knew things were truly dire whenshe’dbeen the one to point that out to Grace.
Amber shooed him away with her free hand. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait.”
Outside, Zinnia was ushered into the passenger seat of the fanciest-looking golf cart she’d ever seen, sleek and all black withsix seats. Naturally their camera pods, notably with all new faces, were coming along for the ride.
“Hi, I’m Zinnia.”
Only one person smiled and nodded in return.
“Y’all really take that no-talking thing seriously, huh?”
“Their jobs depend on it.” Amber started the cart. “Stop trying to get them fired, dear.”
She turned to the pods for confirmation. The same person nodded again and mimed zipping her lips.
“Well, shit,” Zinnia whispered as Amber suddenly sped off from the bungalow.
But she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Jordan yet! Holding on to the safety grab handle, she leaned out over the side. Wind whipped her braids into her face as she searched for him. He hadn’t moved, still standing by the porch with his hands clutched into fists at his sides. She waved at him, and he did the same as the distance rapidly grew between them.
“Did Alfie tell you we built this estate as a family about seven years ago?” Amber asked as Zinnia sat back down and then continued without waiting for an answer. “Damon and I focused on the overall design—it’s our retirement home. Sadie chose the location. Wylie insisted on having a pool with a waterfall.” She pointed at a tennis court as they sped past it. “Built that specifically for Lulie to practice. She wanted to be the next Serena Williams until some two-bit millennial poet inspired her to be a writer. Years of our life and thousands of dollars on private lessons wasted because of a poem.” She shook her head. “But that’s Lulie for you. She’s still finding herself, unfortunately, but now she wants to be an actress. Damon and I are praying this one sticks.”
Zinnia couldn’t decide if this was the type of chatter that required participation. Some people liked to hear themselvestalk—or were used to filling in frosty silences for a camera. But Grace had advised her to get more information. And how to do it.
GRACE:Sweet, sassy, and sharp. Don’t let them see your kindness or punk you.
FIONA:Think innocent antagonism! You can do it!
“What about Jordan? Did he help too?”
“Alfiewas in college at the time.” She paused long enough to covertly glare at Zinnia. “I designed the bungalow with him in mind. He’s always known exactly who he was and what he wanted to do with his life. Starting a successful coffee shop–bookstore chain was hardly a surprise to anyone whoreallyknows him.”
They continued in silence down a wide cement path that bisected landscaped gravel designs peppered with succulents. Everything looked expensive and editorial-worthy but had a disconcerting feeling of sameness. Nothing stood out.
Amber rolled to a stop. “Out,” she barked over her shoulder.
Both camera pods wordlessly hopped off. Confused, Zinnia followed suit and—
“Not you.” Amber frowned until Zinnia was fully back in her seat. “Give us thirty minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” A person with shaggy brown hair saluted as the pod crews walked toward a small white gazebo. Amber sped off again.
So.
No cameras, no microphones, no witnesses.
