Brown-Eyed Girl Page 77

Twenty-one

Ravaged and exhausted from a sleepless night, I applied a heavier layer of makeup than usual the next morning. If the hollow-eyed look was in, I thought bleakly, I was definitely on-trend. I packed my bag and went downstairs a few minutes before I was supposed to meet Hollis, Bethany, and Kolby in the lobby. From there we would travel by limo to Teterboro Airport, about twelve miles away. The small airport, located in the New Jersey Meadowlands, was popular for private aircraft.

Heading to a lounge off the lobby, I saw Bethany sitting alone at a small table by a window. “Good morning,” I said with a smile. “You’re up early too?”

She smiled back at me, looking tired. “Can’t sleep too good with all the city noise at night. Kolby’s taking a shower. Want to sit with me?”

“Yes, I’ll get some coffee.”

In a minute, I returned to the table with my coffee and sat opposite Bethany. “I looked at the jpegs Finola sent last night,” I said. “What did you think about the skirt redesign?”

“It was pretty. Finola said they would put beading on it.”

“So you’re happy with it?”

Bethany shrugged. “I liked the panels better. But there’s no choice with my bump getting so big.”

“It will be a gorgeous dress,” I said. “And you’ll look like a queen. I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday.”

“You didn’t need to be. Finola was real nice to me and Mother.” She paused. “She didn’t say anything… but she knows. I could tell.”

“About what?” I asked without expression.

“The due date.” Bethany swirled a spoon aimlessly in her coffee cup. “I’m just about to start the last trimester. I may not even fit into that dress by the wedding.”

“That’s what the last fitting is for,” I said automatically. “It’ll be fine, Bethany.” I drank some coffee and fastened my gaze on the scene outside the window, watching the pedestrians with their necks swathed in stylish scarves… a chic woman on a bicycle… a pair of elderly men, both in fedoras. “Does your mother know?” I asked.

She nodded. “I tell her everything. I always swear I’m going to keep some things private, and then I end up telling her, and I’m always sorry. But I do it anyway. I guess I always will.”

“You may not,” I said. “Believe me, I don’t do a lot of the things I thought I’d always be doing.”

Bethany left the spoon in the mug and pushed it aside. “Mother says you’ll keep quiet about Kolby,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me. It’s not my place to say anything.”

“You’re right. It’s not. But I know you like Ryan, and you probably feel sorry for him. You shouldn’t, though. He’ll be fine.”

“Is the baby his?” I asked softly.

Bethany flicked a derisive glance at me. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s Kolby’s.”

Her slight smile faded. She didn’t answer.

She didn’t have to.

We were both quiet for a minute.

“I love Kolby,” Bethany said eventually. “It doesn’t make a difference, but I do.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Of course.”

“What does he say?”

“Stupid stuff. He said he wanted to get married and live in a beach house in Santa Cruz. Like I’d be sending our kid to public school.” She let out a little huff of laughter. “Can you imagine me marrying a waterskiing instructor? Kolby has no money. No one would invite me anywhere. I wouldn’t be anyone.”

“You’d be with the person you love. The father of your child. You’d have to work, but you’ve got a college degree and connections —”

“Avery, no one makes money from working. Not real money. Even if you get that TV show job, you’ll never earn anything close to what a Travis or a Chase or a Warner has. I wasn’t raised to live in the top one percent, I was raised to live in the top tenth of the top one percent. That’s who I am. You can’t go down from that. No one would give up the kind of life I have just because they love someone.”

I didn’t reply.

“You think I’m a bitch,” Bethany said.

“No.”

“Well, I am.”

“Bethany,” I asked, “what are you going to tell Ryan when the baby is born two months early and it’s obviously not a preemie?”

“It won’t matter then. We’ll be legally married. Even if Ryan decides to deny paternity and divorce me, he’ll have to pay through the nose. I’ll threaten to fight the prenup in court. Mother says Ryan will pay rather than go through a big public embarrassment.”

I worked to keep all expression from my face. “Are you sure Kolby won’t say anything? He won’t cause trouble?”

“No, I told him all he has to do is wait. Once the divorce has gone through and I’ve got money, Kolby can live with me and the baby.”

I couldn’t speak for a moment. “What a perfect plan,” I finally said.

I was quiet for most of the flight back, my thoughts seething. Plugging in a pair of earbuds, I started a movie on my laptop and stared blindly at the screen.

Any trace of compassion or pity I might have felt for Bethany had been obliterated when she had revealed that the wedding was nothing but a means to extort money from Ryan Chase. Bethany and her parents already knew that the marriage wouldn’t last. They knew that he wasn’t the father of the baby. They were taking advantage of Ryan’s innate decency, and he would end up screwed to the wall while Bethany and Kolby lived off his money.

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