Page 79 of Reverence

“Are you afraid of me, Foltin?” Her own voice sounded foreign to her. Juliette had forgotten the last time it had held this note of authority, of self-confidence. Well, it had taken her long enough and it had taken her stepping all over this sorry excuse of a man to gain herself back. Wasn’t that what she had told Gabriel just a few days ago? Circles everywhere. She was on her last, thirty-second fouetté. And it felt glorious.

“Are you afraid of me?” she repeated, tone lower, deadlier, and watched him squirm. When he shut his eyes tightly and turned his head away from her, she closed the distance between them and whispered into his ear, “You should be.”

Juliette remembered how ages ago Francesca had pontificated about drama and how it was everywhere in their world. This entire scene, so over the top, so beyond everything that had been normal in her life, so far from who she had been, was a fitting end for a character arc.

Juliette breathed in the stench of his fear, so very real, so palpable she thought she could wring it like a rag and let the dirty water of this whole sordid affair drip between her fingers, poison leaving the wound.

Then she stepped back and pressed the button for the ground floor. She left him cowering in the corner of the elevator even as Madison Avenue opened up in front of her, full of people, of hope, and of new beginnings.

29

OF GOOD INTENTIONS & WINE-STAINED FLOORS

When she found her apartment unlocked, she knew she wouldn’t be able to take the shower she didn’t particularly want but was aware she needed. With Katarina’s scent all over her face and Foltin’s fear on her hands, Juliette felt she was going slowly insane.

Juliette closed the door and allowed herself to lean back against it for a second before she took off her shoes and set her cane in the corner.

She drew in a deep breath and ventured toward the light and the scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. Dusk was settling outside, yet it felt like the perfect time for it. Sleep wasn’t really an option anyway.

“Does your girlfriend know where you’re spending your evenings, Helena?”

In scrubs of all things, Helena puttered around the small space looking decidedly at home. For all the time she had spent in Juliette’s apartment, she might as well have been.

“She thinks I’m working late at the hospital. Having shifts at the psychiatry ward down at Staten Island has its benefits.”

Juliette leaned against the doorjamb and stuck her hands in the pockets of her slacks.

“Like lying to an unsuspecting woman who worships the ground you walk on?”

Helena finally turned, and her face was serene.

“She can’t remember how I take my tea, Jett.” There was no bitterness in Helena’s matter-of-fact observation. “And I am not above lying. Especially when I get a panicked call from Francesca that Juliette is likely murdering Katarina at the Four Seasons, and my girlfriend emphatically doesn’t approve of Juliette to begin with.”

Juliette smiled at the non sequitur of the explanation.

“What are you going to do?”

“Probably dump her. It’s tiresome, trying to deny that your mind is somewhere else all the time. But what am I saying? Of course you know exactly how that feels.”

Juliette’s mouth dropped open before she stumbled over words to refute Helena’s assumptions.

“Hels, you don’t think of me and I don’t think of Katarina. C’mon?—”

Helena laughed and set her mug down.

“Oh God, Jett. Talk about jumping the gun and showing your hand. Please calm down. I meant that my mind would rather think of my practice and patients than about her. And she knows it. Hence her jealousy over anything and anyone. However, you denying for seven years that you don’t think of Katarina is just as absurd.”

Helena gave her a long look before speaking again.

“I assume you went there to murder her, and since your blouse is covered in stains of a different nature, I also assume you’ve not actually proceeded with your plan.”

It took all of Juliette’s discipline not to fall for the obvious bait, and she did not pull her hands out of her pockets to cover her collar.

The sounds of a door banging open and then closing shut with considerable force saved her from further exploration of the embarrassing subject. It could herald the entrance of only one person. Juliette bit the inside of her cheek to avoid tearing up, because yes, there was just one friend left who could simply barge in. Gabriel was gone, and Francesca whirled into the kitchen with the power of a cyclone hitting shore.

“Oh good, no blood. Did you read her the riot act already, Helena? Or were you playing shrink games and bitching about that useless girlfriend of yours?”

Helena and Juliette exchanged a look and burst into laughter. It felt wonderful. There had been so many tears lately.

---