I have no idea what the hell is going on, especially with Emily’s selective memory, but this is entirely too much drama. I wanted a low-key day of relaxing by the pool, of eating Kate’s famous Mexican nachos. I didn’t expect Emily to show up at my door to tell a wild story and fuck with my head.
“Sit,” I tell Emily, motioning toward the couch.
Kate stands at the bookshelf, Ivy’s drawing in her hand, before I pull it away from her and set it back down. As I do, I can’t shake the feeling that I am missing something—something important. I note the careful strokes of the pencil, the way they sweep and curve with precision.
It’s … so similar to Emily’s napkin sketch—practically identical.
“So, what are we doing?” Kate asks. “Are we supposed to have a threesome now or something? I’m really getting pissed.”
“You’re free to leave whenever you want,” I tell her, “or you can find some patience and sit down.”
She huffs as I pull my phone from my pocket, her tongue grazing her lips before she takes the farthest seat away from Emily that she can.
I text the one person in the world I would never text without a good reason.
I need to talk to you about Ivy … ASAP. Do you know how to get in touch with her?
“Brooks—” Emily says.
I hold up my finger, the typing bubble appearing on my screen before Eliza’s response comes through.
You expect me to talk to you about Ivy when I wanted to talk to you about Emily and got no response? REALLY?
This IS about Emily. I don’t know how, but it is.
What?!?! What does that mean?
Kate stands. “Okay, if you want to sit there and text all day, I’m going to get out of here.”
“No, wait,” I say, putting my phone on the shelf. “I need to clear things up.” I cross my arms and look at Emily. “I am not having sex with Kate. Kate, I am not in a relationship with Emily.”
“But you’re basically saying you’re having sex with her?” Kate asks, my eyes flitting to Emily and finding an expression of pain.
“I was. Did,” my head nods, Kate’s nostrils flaring in response. “Emily and I developed feelings for each other, but it has been complex from the start. I was interested in her before you and I reconnected. We always had chemistry. Regardless of you and I knowing we will never be anything other than—anyway, I should have been upfront about what was going on between Emily and me is all I am trying to say. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes soften, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Okay. I mean, why would I care? If you want to date her, go ahead.”
“You obviously do care, because you were driving by my house,” Emily says. “Why would a woman do that, if not out of jealousy?”
“Are you one hundred percent sure it was Kate?” I don’t know why I ask her, because I don’t even feel I can trust her.
“I’m one thousand percent sure. That’s the car, Brooks.”
“Oh-kay,” Kate quips, shaking her head.
“Oh my God!” Emily says. “I just remembered. I took a video!” She takes her phone from her jeans pocket, her fingers moving quickly over it before she holds it out to me. I walk over and grab it, my eyes settling on a quick clip of … Kate’s car screeching around the intersecting street.
I watch it again, and then pass the phone back to her, my eyes narrowing as I process that Emily was telling the truth. I look at Kate, her face paler than before, her forehead lined. “Kate? Do you want to explain to me why Emily was able to record you speeding away in her neighborhood if you never drove by her house?”
“Shit,” she whispers, her fingers reaching up to pinch her nose as she closes her eyes. “I know what it seems like, but—”
“But what?”
“Yes, Kate,” Emily says, tucking her light blonde hair behind her ears. “But what?”
I shoot her a look before turning back to Kate. “Well?”
She holds up her hands in defeat. “Fine. I drove by her house a few times. So what?”
“Told you,” Emily says.
“Okay … why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I do that?” she asks, her shoulders slumping.
“What?”
“Do you actually believe there is a woman in this world who would want to be friends with you, Brooks?”
“I’m not following...”
“I fibbed about not wanting strings. I didn’t want to scare you off. When you bolted from the coffee shop, I had a feeling it was because of a woman. I had to know, so I followed you. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. It was stupid, I get that. The other times, I was simply curious if you were with her—specifically, if you were sleeping with her. I didn’t know what you two were, because you didn’t talk about her, but I didn’t want to be the desperate girl who asked. I thought eventually you’d want me, too, but I recently figured out that you’re impossible.”
My eyes move to Emily, who appears satisfied with the explanation.
The doorbell rings.
I hold up a finger to them. “No fighting, please.” I walk to the door, and when I open it, Eliza’s feral eyes stare back at me.
Her stomach takes my attention for a moment, the bulbous sight such a foreign thing, before they trail back up to her face. “Yes?”
She glowers at me. “What the hell do you mean ‘yes’? You text me something like that and then stop responding?”
“How’d you get here so fast?”
“I was at my parents’. Thanks to your cuckoo girlfriend, Mark and I are … I don’t even care anymore. I have nothing to lose. She can threaten me all she wants.” Her face reddens as her eyes become glassy. “Anyway, I’ll elaborate later when I’m not crying my eyes out. But what does she have to do with Ivy?”
Rapid words are exchanged in the living room, and I rub my forehead. “Hold on,” I tell Eliza before I walk down the hall, finding Kate and Emily trading hateful words. “Ladies, please. Can you just not talk to each other for a minute? I’ll be right back.”
When I return to the door, Eliza has stepped inside, hands massaging her stomach. I try to push away the resentment I have toward her to focus on the real objective.
“Well?” she asks.
“Look, did Ivy have a cousin or anything? Or maybe a friend while I was gone in France?”
Her eyes narrow, arms crossing. “I don’t know anything about her family, and you know as well as I do that she didn’t have any friends.”
I frown.
“Why?”
“Nothing, it’s just … Emily drew something the other day, something that gave me this weird feeling, but I don’t know what the feeling means or is or … I don’t know.”
She peers at me. “I’m so confused.”
“I’ll show it to you.” I walk to the accent table nearby and pull it from the drawer. “Here.”
I pass the napkin to her, and she stares at it for a long time. “Emily drew this?”
“Yeah. Weird, right? I mean, you remember the pandas—”
“You mean the pandas on your shelf that Ivy drew, which you kept like some prized memento, but you never had the decency to tell me?”
“Do you want to go the decency route? Because I have a list I would like to talk about.”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe she remembered the picture and subconsciously copied it.
She starts to speak again when a voice calls behind us. “Well, well … Eliza James,” Kate says.
“Eliza...” Emily mutters.
Eliza’s eyes widen, cutting to me before she steps toward Emily. “You know, if I wasn’t pregnant, I would kick your ass.”
I grab Eliza by the wrist as Emily takes a defensive step back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me!” Eliza shouts. “I got your little package.”
“What package?” I ask. “What the fuck is up with the drama today?” Jesus, I have three catty women in my house.
“Your girlfriend sent me a ‘baby gift’ that had a picture of my husband making out with the neighbor.”
I inhale a sharp breath. “Ouch.” My head snaps to Emily. “Wait, why is everyone stalking each other? Fuck!”
“Wow. What goes around really comes back around,” Emily says. “Wasn’t me, though.”
“It was your handwriting, honey,” Eliza spits. “Oh, also the bit about leaving you and Brooks alone. Yeah, who else would it have been?”
My eyes move to Kate who shakes her head. “It wasn’t me!”
They begin yelling at each other, all three of them, my head feeling as if it is about to explode. “ENOUGH!” I shout. “Everyone stop.”
“Whatever,” Eliza says.
“Did I mention I’m glad we aren’t friends anymore?” Emily asks.
“I’m leaving,” Kate says. “I quit watching soap operas a long time ago. I have no desire to star in one.” She jerks her purse from the table at the end of the hall and walks past me. “Call me if you want.”
The door slams, the three of us left in a pool of tension. “You really fucked up my life, you know that?” Eliza says, crossing the foyer to Emily, stopping inches from her face.
“I’m pretty sure you did that yourself.”
Without warning, Eliza’s hand raises and slaps Emily’s cheek. Emily’s hand flies to her face, her mouth open in disbelief.
“Eliza, what the fuck!” I shout. “Emily, are you okay?” I move to be at her side, examining her cheek.
“I’m fine,” she says, rubbing her face.
“Wait a minute,” Eliza says, peering at Emily’s face, attempting to get even closer.
“You need to leave,” I say.
“Did you … have a nose job?”
Emily’s eyes flick up to her. “No. What kind of question is that?”
“Yes, you did.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Come on, Eliza. You need to go. Now.”
Her head turns to me, eyes circling rapidly. “Oh my God. Oh my God...”
“What?” I ask, my tone rough.
“It’s her...”
“Her? What do you mean?”
“Ivy!” Eliza says.
“What about her?”
“Don’t you get it?” She holds up the napkin, and then steps around Emily and into the living room. We follow her as she spins around, holding up the panda sketch and napkin together. “It’s her. Emily is her. Emily is Ivy!”
A short laugh bubbles from my throat. “What? No...”
“Yes!”
“What?” Emily says. “Have you lost your mind?”
I stare at Emily’s face, the brilliant ocean blue souring my stomach, but then I shake it off. “No. She can’t be. That’s a crazy thing to say.”
“It’s not, though. You knew something was weird. These drawings are the same. The same exact drawings. And she’s had a nose job.” She shakes the pictures at me, the veins in her neck inflating.
“I have not had a nose job. I have no clue what’s going on or what crazy shit you’re going on about, but I think I should go home.”