“I know. But every time I watch him brush his teeth I crack up. Get it? Crack up?”
“You’re terrible.”
“I know. But Jake? Congratulations on winning the lottery. I’m really happy for you!”
“I won the lottery when I met you.”
“That’s sweet. Whose ticket is it? Yours or hers?”
“Hers.”
“How do you know she bought one?”
“She always buys one, and always plays the same numbers. She’s a creature of habit.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe this will bring you and Faith closer together.”
“Not a chance.”
“Like you said, winning the lottery could change everything.”
“There’s something I never told you. Eight weeks ago Faith fucked a total stranger in the men’s room of a bar.”
“What?”
“I’m serious.”
“Jake, that’s crazy. She’d never do that.”
“I saw her.”
“What are you talking about? Where?”
“Cincinnati. I’d been at a client meeting, she was waiting for me in the hotel bar. I came in through the street entrance and saw her sitting at a booth, talking to a guy. I was so stunned, I watched them from a distance. After a few minutes they got up, went to the men’s room. The fuckin’ men’s room!”
“That makes no sense. Of all the women I know—”
“Right. I know. But I was there. They stayed in the men’s room more than five minutes. When they came out, they were all flushed.”
“Did she see you?”
“No. She was too busy trying to fix her hair and smooth her clothes. She was following him very closely.”
“I admit it sounds bad. But it doesn’t prove they were having sex. Maybe he was selling her some coke. Or prescription pills.”
“You’re a good friend to assume that, but I listened at the door. She wasn’t quiet, and she wasn’t making drug deal sounds. They went back to the table a minute, then he left, and she went to the elevator. I knew she was up there changing her panties, so I went up to the room and waited for her to come out the door. When she did I told her I had to drop off my briefcase and pee. She went downstairs to get us a table, and I went through her suitcase and checked her panties for semen.”
“Eew. Gross!”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s not as gross as fucking a complete stranger in the men’s room.”
“Was there any?”
“Any what?”
“Uh…discharge?”
“Yeah. You couldn’t miss it.”
“Oh….My….God! Our Faith is a one-night-stander!”
“One-Night Faith.”
“If I ask you something, promise not to get mad?”
“What?”
“How do you know he was a stranger?”
Jake pauses. “I guess I don’t.”
“You sound jealous.”
“Not at all.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. I’ve got you, right?”
She says, “I’m here, aren’t I? When I’m supposed to be somewhere else?”
He kisses her boob.
She says, “What if she won’t share the money?”
“She’ll have to. And the minute she deposits the check, I’ll file for divorce.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. And you will, too. Right?”
“You’re asking me to take a big step without offering a proposal.”
“Will you marry me?”
“For real? You mean it?”
“I do.”
“Then yes, of course!”
“Happy birthday, baby.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
Milo watches them kiss, then trudges back to Faith’s coat closet, with four things on his mind. One, he can’t leave till Jake leaves, which will make him really late for Lemon’s birthday party. Two, it’s going to be a long-ass bike ride to his mom’s house. Three, his wife’s having an affair with his friend, and it’s been going on for a while, or they wouldn’t be talking marriage. And four, he’s been brushing his teeth for months with toothbrushes that have spent a good amount of time up Jake’s ass.
7.
BY THE TIME Milo arrives at Veluzzi’s, the entire gang—except for Jake—has been there a while. He catches Lemon’s cold look and Faith’s questioning look at the same time and ignores them both. He makes his way around the table, hugs the women, and mumbles an apology about how his mom had a rough afternoon.
Faith’s face is pleading for confirmation the deed got done, but Milo plans to let her stew a while, which is exactly what she deserves for fucking a total stranger in a men’s room while chastising Milo for peeking at her body.
“Milo?” Lexi says. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend, the incredibly good-looking Byron Zass. Byron, this is Lemon’s husband, Milo Fister.”
Milo looks at Brody, who appears miserable to the point of madness.
Milo shakes Byron’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Lexi says, “Are you okay, Milo?”
“I’m fine. Just embarrassed being late for my wife’s birthday party.”
“No biggie,” Lemon says. “Come sit. I’ve ordered you a drink.”
He walks toward the empty seat beside his wife, notices the presents stacked on the floor. Says, “I’ll be right back.”
Lemon frowns. “What now?”
“I left your gifts in the trunk.”
Faith says, “I’ll help you fetch them!”
It came out so suddenly, everyone turns to look at her.
Faith recovers, saying, “I’d offer my husband, but as you can see, he’s not here yet.”
“I’ll help you,” Brody says.
“Thank you, Brody,” Lemon says. Then looks at our friends and says, “I’m amazed Milo remembered my birthday at all!”
Right, Milo thinks. She’s probably been telling their friends he’s a rotten husband. Setting the stage for the “surprise” divorce that’s coming his way. Of course, she’ll lose all these friends when they find out she’s been fucking Jake.
On the way to the car Brody says, “Lemon looks great tonight.”
“You don’t think her dress is a little wrinkled?”
Brody gives him an odd look. “I hadn’t noticed.” They walk quietly till he adds, “Are you gonna be in the doghouse tonight for being late?”
“Probably.”
“I’ve never seen Lemon angry. But she looked upset with you tonight.”
“Can you blame her? I was late for her party, after all.”
“But your mom. Surely Lemon understands.”
“She does. Still, it’s her day. I should’ve been here.”
They get the gifts out of the trunk. On the way back to the table Brody says, “What do you think of Byron?”
Milo says, “It had to happen, right?”
“I guess. But she just showed up with him, out of the blue. It sucks.”
“It’s been tough on you.”
Brody nods.
Milo sees tears glistening in Brody’s eyes. He says, “She’ll never marry him.”
“Why not?”
“Is his last name really Zass?”
“I doubt he’d make that up,” Brody says.
“Lexi Zass?”
“What about it?”
“Say it quickly.”
“What, “Lexi Zass?”
Milo smiles. “Sounds a lot like Lexi’s ass, don’t you think?”
Brody thinks about it and chuckles. “Good one.” Then he says, “Milo?”
“Yeah?”
“Work on your marriage, okay? You don’t want to wind up like me.”
“You should bring someone next time.”
“Fat chance.”
Milo barely gets in his chair when Jake enters the room and says, “Looks like a party! Sorry I got tied up, but I wouldn’t miss
this for the world.”
Over the next half hour Milo and Brody stare holes through Jake and Lemon, but neither can tell the two are even remotely interested in each other.
At one point Byron Zass says, “Milo, tell me something about Lexi I should know.”
“She’s faithful.”
“Who isn’t?” Jake says, looking at Faith.
“Who, indeed?” Faith says, returning the look.
Milo and Brody look at Lemon, but her expression gives up nothing. She says, “There’s your answer, Byron. I suppose you’ll never find a more faithful group of friends.”
“Good to know,” Byron says, showing Brody a winner’s smirk. This, and the way Lexi blushes, tells everyone he and Lexi were seeing each other before she and Brody separated.
As for Jake and Lemon? Cool customers, these two. So cool Milo notices neither have said a word about Faith winning the lottery.
Then Jake does.
“I have a question for my lovely wife,” he says. When she looks at him he asks, “Did you happen to buy a lottery ticket Thursday?”
She looks embarrassed, but says, “What if I did?”
“Did you play your favorite numbers?”
She frowns.
Jake says, “Ladies and gentlemen, if my wife played the numbers 11, 22, 33, 44, 55, with the powerball 17, as she always does, she just won $165 million dollars!”
They all look at Faith, but she doesn’t see them.
She’s already fainted.
8.
“YOU SAW HIM?” Faith says. “You saw Jake fucking Lemon? In our home?”
“Yeah. And it’s been going on a long time.”
They’re at Starbucks. Faith’s been here forty-five minutes, reading an electronic book, same as she does every Saturday morning while Jake hits the gym. He’ll meet up with her at nine-thirty, give or take.
Creatures of habit, these two.
If it were Monday, she could just come to Milo’s office. He’s her attorney, after all. But it’s Saturday, and the office is closed, so this is the best they could do.
Milo told her straight away about Lemon and Jake and said he could have filmed them if he hadn’t left his phone at his mom’s house.
At first, Faith refused to believe it. She cited the fact that Lemon and Jake barely acknowledge each other whenever they’re in the same room. Then realized that piece of information was quite telling in its own right. Then she blew up and nearly made a scene.
After crying nonstop in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, Faith finally comes out and says, “I would’ve shot them both.”
“I couldn’t. All roads would lead back to me.”
“I’m not going to share my money with that bastard.”
“You won’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve found a killer-for-hire.”
She lowers her voice to a whisper. “A hit man?”
“Hit woman, to be precise.”
Faith regards him as she would a bug. “What would you know about locating a hit woman?”
“One of my clients knows a guy.”
“That sounds sketchy. Who’s your client?”
“I can’t say.”
“This sounds like one of those situations where you wind up in a car with a hidden camera recording your conversation.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t a hidden camera recording you in Cincinnati?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Eight weeks ago? Hotel bar in Cincinnati? Men’s room?”
Her face flushes. “What are you talking about?”
“Jake told Lemon you fucked a complete stranger in the men’s room.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“He said he saw you talking, listened at the door, checked your panties for semen afterward. And found it.”
She grits her teeth. “Tell me about the hit woman.”
“This is the real deal. She’s not cheap, but she’s reliable.”
“How much does she want?”
“Two-fifty.”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? Are you crazy?”
“It’s that, or pay Jake $54 million to marry Lemon.”
She says, “I’d rather have half the money than wind up in prison.”
“I’ve already set up the meeting.”
“You’re joking.”
“She wants two-fifty to kill one, three-fifty to kill both.”
“I assume you’re willing to chip in?”
“I didn’t win the lottery,” he says, and our ridiculous two-million-dollar house Lemon had to have is bleeding me dry. “But if you pay the two-fifty I can find a way to do the extra hundred.”
“How do you know the hit woman’s for real?”
“I asked her the same thing.”
“And?”
“She said she’d prove it by killing someone we know that we don’t care about.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what she said.”
“And you said?”
“Byron Zass.”
“Lexi’s date?”
“The same.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The hit woman’s name is Maybe Taylor. If we decide not to use her I’ll owe her fifty grand for the conversation. I assume you’re willing to chip in?”
“No.”
Milo frowns. “Why not?”
“You took it upon yourself to contact this killer. You took it upon yourself to have the conversation. You already owed her the money before talking to me. If we go forward, I’ll be paying more than twice as much as you. And if we go forward, you won’t have to pay the fifty in the first place.”
He nods. “Okay.”
She looks around. “What’s this about Byron?”
I gave her his name. She said she’d kill him no later than Tuesday to prove she’s for real.”
“You believe her?”
“It makes sense. If she’s secretly working for the cops, they’d never let her kill someone.”
“We’d have to have proof Byron’s dead.”
“I told her that.”
“Supposing she kills him. When would we meet her?”
“Friday morning.”
“I’ve got spin class.”
“What time?”
“Eight a.m.”
“You can’t cancel?”
“No. All the wives will be there. If I don’t show up they’ll come to my house to check on me.”
Milo shakes his head. “It creeps me out to call this bitch. How about ten?”
“I can do ten.”
“I’ll call her.”
“I’m not going to meet her without proof,” Faith says.
“Me either.”
PART TWO: Callie and Creed
1.
STOMACH FLU’S A bitch, Callie thinks, clutching her tummy.
She falls to her knees, pukes on the hard wood floor of her penthouse condo. Tries to stand, but the cramping won’t let her straighten up. Headache, faintness, vertigo, burning sensation in her throat and mouth…
…And something else.
The stench isn’t right.
Gross, I know, she thinks, but sniffs her vomit anyway.
Something strange happening in her mouth. With hand under chin, she lowers her head, parts her lips, watches a steady drip of blood collect in her palm. When she spits, a tooth hits the pool like a stone, scattering the blood.
She blinks. Tries to comprehend what’s going on, how it could have happened.
Her mind identifies the puke odor as bitter almonds.
She’s been poisoned.
By whom?
Her husband, Donovan Creed.
Treatment? Antidotal therapy.
What she needs, and fast, is a Lilly cyanide kit: amyl nitrite, sodium nitrite, and sodium thiosulfate, with high-dose oxygen. No problem if she happened to be in or near a hospital. But she’s trapped in her own home.
Without a
phone.
Fitting way to end things, Callie thinks. She’s poisoned plenty of others, knows what to expect. Convulsions. Respiratory depression. Pulmonary edema. Bradycardia. Paralysis. Coma. Death.
TV detectives smell a body and say, “Bitter almonds. Cyanide poisoning.”
In the real world, hydrogen cyanide is virtually undetectable below 600 parts per billion. Callie can isolate the smell for two reasons. One, she’s used the stuff often enough, and two, she’s Callie: a woman with super hero powers of hearing and smell developed while catatonic as a child. To put it another way, if a gnat farts in LA, Callie can hear it in Vegas.
And smell it.
Not that this has been an advantage of living with a guy like Creed, who makes few apologies for bodily scents and sounds.
Speaking of which…
She opens her eyes. Sees Creed sleeping soundly in the bed beside her.
Creed the real-life boyfriend. Not the husband who poisons her in nightmares.
Callie has trust issues.
She sighs.
Creed opens his eyes.
“You okay?” he says.
“Sorry. Bad dream.”
He studies her a moment. “Are you still angry about Kathleen?”
“What? Angry? Me?”
2.
Callie Carpenter.
AM I? CALLIE thinks. Am I still angry about Kathleen meeting Creed for dinner last night?
In a word, yes.
Kathleen Gray was Creed’s first girlfriend since divorcing Janet, the nuclear hell bitch. She was also his first true love. They say the first real love lasts a lifetime, but after last night, Kathleen’s life expectancy might be short enough to cause a blip in the insurance mortality table. Callie doesn’t understand the attraction. In her mind, Kathleen’s a dreary, clingy, needy, whiny bitch.
Not that Creed’s other girlfriends were high on the food chain.
After Kathleen, Creed fell in love with the traveling freak show, Rachel Case. That was followed by a non-consummated close call with Beth Daniels, a widow he once referred to as “disarmingly attractive.”
Disarminly attractive? What the hell does that mean?
Beth owns a bed and breakfast in St. Albans, Florida.
Disarming? I’ll show her disarming! No arms would make her far less threatening.
There was also a brief dalliance with Miranda Rodriguez, one of New York City’s finest.