Page 132 of The Bonus

“And how about that tree,” Deb whispers.

My eyes roam to Dominic standing proudly at the back with his little arms up as branches.

“Best tree I ever saw.” I giggle.

We are at the kids’ play at school. “There you are, Grace.” I turn to see Felicity Fox shimmying through the row of seats to get to me. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Ugh…the most annoying woman to ever walk the earth. She’s the head of the PTA of the kids’ school. She’s wearing a tight white Adidas tracksuit, and her long dark hair is up in a high ponytail. She’s gorgeous and immaculately groomed and the best Stepford wife in Greenville. Except just without the husband, he ran off a few years back and she’s been making everyone else’s life in town a living hell ever since.

“Ugh,” Deb mutters under her breath.

“Hi, Felicity.” I force a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m great.” She drops into the seat beside me. “I noticed you haven’t signed up for the bake sale.”

“Yes.” I shrug. “I’m just so…busy at the moment.”

“We’re all busy, Grace,” she replies flatly. “But you are going to help on Wednesday, aren’t you?”

“I have to work.”

“What do you mean?” she gasps. “But you help every year.”

And it’s the worst day of my life.

“Yes, but this year I’m too swamped.”

A total lie, I have Wednesday off, but I can’t deal with spending an entire day with this woman. I swore to myself that last year was the last.

“Can’t you get the day off?” she snaps.

“No.”

“This won’t do at all.”

“It’s a bake sale, Felicity,” Deb chips in. “Not the end of the world.”

“Yes, but we need Grace because of…” She hesitates. “Well…because of the obvious.”

“What obvious?” Deb asks.

“Well…she can’t bake, so she has to serve.”

“I can bake,” I snap.

“Oh, come on, Grace.” She rolls her eyes. “We all know you buy your cakes every year.”

You do?

“Why else would I be forced to throw your cakes out?”

“You throw my cakes out?” I gasp.

“It’s a bake sale.” She widens her eyes as if I’m stupid. “Not a buy sale. If we wanted supermarket cakes, we would ask for them.” She gives a condescending smile. “But I know what you’re like by now.”

I begin to hear my angry heartbeat in my ears.

“What am I like?”

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