“Why does he love her?” This was the first time I had ever verbalized the question, though I had pondered over it for God knows how many years. Olivia was attractive — if you were into sluts. She had too much hair and wide-spaced eyes, but I had been around her enough during my trial to know how men responded to her. She was aloof, cold. It was mysterious. Goddamn men and their goddamn mysteries. I had never seen her smile. Not once. It was hard to believe someone as alive and warm as Caleb could have feelings for an emotional prune.

Cammie is watching me, trying to decide how far she wants to go with her answer. I wonder how well she knows Olivia. It had never occurred to me, until now, that she might be good friends with her.

Eventually, she clears her throat. “Well, she’s a bitch like you. Caleb has always been attracted to the Cruella De Ville type. But, I suppose if you want an honest answer…” her voice trails off. The band comes on stage and things are starting to get loud. I lean forward, hungry for her answer.

“They spark,” she says. I jerk back. What the hell did that mean? “When they’re together, it’s like putting a hurricane and a tornado in the same room — you can feel the tension. I didn’t believe in the cliché of soul mates until I saw them together.”

I’ve heard enough. I am sick to my stomach. I look around for my ride and can’t see him anywhere, but Cammie’s not done.

“I know you got pregnant on purpose,” she says, plucking my cigarette from my fingers and taking a draw. I blink at her, too intrigued to argue. How could she possibly know?

“Now, you’ve got the guy … and the baby. You won. So, why are you asking about Olivia?”

I consider lying, telling her that I’m making sure she is gone for good or some bullshit like that.

She smirks. “You want to know why he loves her, Leah?” She overemphasizes the ah in my name. I flinch.

What a bitch.

I shake my head, but the little blond is smarter than she looks.

She stubs out my cigarette. “You won’t find an answer to that from anyone but Caleb. If I were you, I’d let it go. Go enjoy the life you stole for yourself. Olivia won’t be showing up at your doorstep crying, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I feel my face heat as I remember the time I followed Caleb to Olivia’s apartment. That was inside information. The little bitch is probably her best friend.

“He wouldn’t leave me for her even if she did.” I say this with more confidence than I feel.

Cammie raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “Then why do you care?”

I swallow hard. Why do I care? It isn’t like I grew up in a home where my parents were madly in love. My mother married my father for money, she’d told me so on numerous occasions. I have my guy, so why am I picking at the scab?

“I — I don’t know.”

“It’s not fun to play second choice, is it?” She plucks a piece of tobacco from her tongue and flicks it off her fingertip. “There is a possibility that you feel like you’re worth more than being Caleb’s marriage of pity, and if that’s true then you should jump ship now. It’s only a matter of time before the Caleb/Olivia saga starts up again.”

Her words sting. I shift around in my chair as pain courses through me. “I thought you said she moved on?” I hiss.

“Yeah, so?” Cammie shrugs. “Their story will never be over. She’s married, you know? So, technically you have some time to make your husband fall in love with you.”

I can’t hide my surprise. She hadn’t married Turner, that’s for sure. He’d blown up my phone after she broke things off with him, begging me to appeal to her on his behalf. Stupid Turner.

After the whole amnesia debacle, I broke into her apartment and found letters from Caleb, dated to his college days. It didn’t take long to figure out she was his ex-girlfriend, trying to pull a fast one on him. I blackmailed her into leaving town and then hired a private detective who tracked her to Texas. A friend was attending the same law school as Olivia was, so I made a call, traded some Super Bowl tickets, and BAM! Next thing I knew, they were engaged. The luck! Turner was a tool. How a woman could go from Caleb to that half-wit was beyond me. Either way, I thought she was out of my life for good until Caleb hired her to be my attorney — and a good thing he did, because she won the case and saved me from ten years in state prison.

I don’t say any of this to Cammie, whose southern accent is suddenly making me uncomfortable. Was she the friend Olivia had gone to live with in Texas?

Nothing further passes between us, as Sam chooses to resurface at the table at that exact moment. I stand up to leave. Cammie is no longer looking at me, she’s kissing the skateboarder who is cupping her chest in one hand and holding the other above his head as he makes the Black Sabbath horns with his fingers.

I turn, disgusted, and follow Sam to his car.

“Did you get the answers you needed?” he says when we are on the road.

I look at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

He tucks in one side of his mouth and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “She’s my cousin, and she’s a blabber mouth. She told me about that chick.”

I stare at him, openmouthed. “You knew she was friends with Olivia, and you didn’t tell me?”

“That’s what you were hoping for, weren’t you? You wanted to know if she knew her?”

He’s right, but I’m still angry.

“I’m your boss,” I say. “You should have told me. And, what kind of g*y man are you, anyway? You’re supposed to love gossip and drama.”

He throws back his head and laughs. Despite the world of bad news swirling around my head, I smile. Maybe he’s not so bad. I decide to stop trying to get Caleb to fire him.

When I get home, Caleb is already in bed — not ours, but the twin bed in the baby’s room. I check the milk supply in the fridge, luckily there is enough frozen for a day or two — enough time for the dirty martinis to work their way out of my system. I roll my eyes. Caleb will probably check my blood/alcohol level before he lets me pump again.

I go to bed, still wearing my clothes, sadder than I’ve ever felt.

Chapter Twelve

Past

My sister was so beautiful it almost hurt your eyes to look at her — and God, that’s all I did in those early years. She was younger than me. Only by a year, but still. It was kind of awkward to idolize your baby sister. It was hard not to, since the minute she walked into a room, every eye was stuck to her like she had some sort of ethereal fairy magic flowing from her pores. For a long time, I believed that once I hit a certain age, I would get some of that fairy juice — no such luck. I looked like a malnourished, crack ho with braces and twelve hundred dollar sneakers. Courtney made me want to die — especially when she dated and then disposed of all the boys I liked. I could never be mad at her for it. We were a team — Court and Jo — until Jo decided she wanted to be Leah, and then it was Court and Lee. Despite our closeness, as we got older there was no denying the chasm our differences caused. Our friendship wavered for a year in middle school. She left me for the cheerleaders. I watched her make new friends from my seat in the social bleachers, picking bread from my braces and trying to figure out why my boobs hadn’t come in yet.