Page 38 of Wildest Dreams

“I thought I answered your email,” I say as soon as I answer. We rarely begin with a customary greeting.

“Um, it’s not about that.” I can tell from her tone that she’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.

“What’s going on?”

“Have you checked TMZ or your socials?”

“No, why?”

“You and Marina are all over it.”

“What?” My heart sinks. This is the last thing I wanted. Not only will it encourage Marina, but it will hurt and confuse Kendall.

“Yeah, looks like you’re at some kind of bar or something.”

“I went to a brewery with Kendall.”

“Yeah, she’s in a few pictures with a sulky expression. It looks like you’re just there with Marina.”

“Oh my God.” I sit up and run my hands through my hair. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Are you okay?”

“I need to call Kendall.”

As soon as I get off the phone, I dial Kendall’s number. It rings and rings and rings. I leave a voicemail but don’t mention the photos online. Hopefully she hasn’t seen them. I send her a text telling her she can call if she’s still up and, if not, I hope she has a good night. I lie back down. My mind races until about two in the morning, when I finally fall asleep.

Kendall never calls me back.

KENDALL

After Pierre leaves on Sunday morning, I lay back down in the bed. My sheets smell like his cologne and I simply cannot get enough of it.

I finally get up in the afternoon, go for a run around the historic district off Main Street, and come home to shower. I have nothing to eat, so I go to Piggly Wiggly to get groceries.

Standing in the produce aisle, picking out avocados, I see Mercuria Beaumont approach. I nod politely to acknowledge her without inviting conversation. We were friends in high school, and she still talks to Patsy on occasion, but she took a firm side with Whitney during the whole stealing-my-husband thing, so it’s awkward. I’m pretty sure Patsy only keeps her around for gossip.

I look down and concentrate on picking out my salad ingredients, trying to ignore the fact that she’s walking closer and closer.

“Hi, Kendall,” she says.

“Mercuria. Hi.” I try to act distracted by picking out vegetables, but she doesn’t move.

“Too bad about Pierre, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard y’all were a thing.”

“Um, okay.”

She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “It’s all over the internet that he and Marina Breton are a hot item now.”

“He and Marina—” I pause, confused, my brain going in a million different directions. “Wait. What?”

She shrugs. “Google it.”

With that, she walks off, leaving me standing alone and completely dumbfounded.

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