Page 62 of Tempting God

Aimée says, “Let’s wait in the formal living room.”

“Wait? I thought you said you planned a spa day. Are they not here?”

She says, “We’re a bit early.”

She’s lying. Why?

I follow her into the formal living room. The walls have been painted a light blue and there’s new furniture. I wonder what else has changed. She sits on the white loveseat and points to the matching couch across from her. I sit, too, smoothing out my dress.

“I spoke to your mother today. She seems to be doing well.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I reply. “I try not to speak to her unless I have to.”

Aimée laughs, but stops when she sees my face. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Very serious.”

“Adara didn’t mention it.”

“No, I’m sure it’s not something she even notices. She never has before.”

Aimée shakes her head. “I’ve never understood the two of you. I’d do anything to see my own mother, and yet the two of you act like you can’t stand each other.”

This is the first time she’s said that my mother can’t stand me. Sure, I already knew, but hearing someone else say it is different. It feels validating in a way. Like I wasn’t making it up in my head.

I say, “From what you’ve said of your mother, she was kind and sweet. The same can’t be said for my mother.”

“Is this because of what happened to your father? I thought you’d be over that by now.”

I huff out a laugh before I can stop myself. “Are you over the death of your mother?”

“Well, no, but it’s different. My mother died of a heart attack.”

“It’s not different. You didn’t know she was going to die, just as I didn’t know my father was going to die.” I pause, trying to get my emotions under control. “I thought we were celebrating Grandfather’s birthday that night. I had no idea what the gathering was really for. Mother was supposed to tell me and chose not to.”

Aimée is silent, because, really, what can she say to that?

Finally, she says, “I’m sorry.”

Those two little words hold so much power behind them. Sometimes I wonder how I’d feel if my mother said them to me. I doubt she ever will, but it’s nice to think about.

“Thank you.”

Aimée says, “Well, tell me what’s been new with you. How’s HYPE? I heard you were at some kind of whale rally recently.”

I look her over. A long time ago, she was everything I wanted to be. Not because I think there’s anything wrong with me, per se, but because it would make fitting in easier. Looking at her now, I can see that even she wears a mask. Her true emotions are hidden by layers of makeup and harsh words. And lies. Because if she knows I was in Seattle for the whale rally, then she knows I was fired.

“How did you know I was in Dallas?”

“What?”

“How did you know I was in Dallas?” I meet her gaze. “The room wasn’t under my name.”

A light blush creeps up her neck. “Really, Greer. Don’t sound so suspicious. You’re starting to sound like Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith.”

“Just answer my question.”

She stands. “I’m going to the restroom. Excuse me.”

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