Page 32 of Golden Rule

Lexi: What gives her the fucking right?

I lift my eyes from our group chat as Joss eases up the driveway, and a wrought iron gate slowly closes behind us.

“Well, this is it,” she sighs.

We gaze out through the windshield, gawking at the enormous white, three-story mansion belonging to the team’s former quarterback and his wife—Reed and April Lawson. The home has a ton of character and exudes a flare of Midwest charm that’s hard to capture with houses this size. The rose bushes are perfectly trimmed, just like the large topiaries spaced between the towering pillars of the wraparound porch. As I take it all in, I’m hit with this strange sense of inferiority.

After doing a little research the other night, I quickly realized April’s basically the model football wife. She attends every single game, she’s well-known and respected within her church and the community, and she’s somehow always camera ready. And now that I’m staring at her home, it looks eerily familiar. Pretty sure it’s because I saw it featured on an issue ofBetter Homes and Gardensduring one of my many trips to the doctor.

I take a breath, letting it out as I imagine what andwhomight be awaiting us on the other side of the threshold.

“Is it just me, or is it weird that so many of them are already here?” Joss says. “I mean, despite running a bit behind at first, we made good time.”

My eyes flit toward the clock. She’s right. We made it with time to spare. I lift my gaze toward the circular drive next, scanning the long line of shiny SUVs and sports cars.

“It’s almost like… there was a meetingbeforethe meeting, you know?”

“Exactly,” Joss agrees.

That sense of dread grows, swirling in my gut like bad sushi.

“Well, we’re here,” I sigh. “May as well make the best of it, right?”

It takes Joss a moment to answer, and when she does, the response lacks any trace of enthusiasm. “If you say so.”

The next second, she flings her door open, then steps out onto the driveway. Tiffany and I do the same, and we’re right behind her. I shoot a quick message to the group chat, letting them know we’re here and will have to continue the conversation later. Now, for the next hour or so, it’s all about the Empress Circle.

It’d be nice to walk into this as a united front, seeing as how it feels more like an ambush than anything. However, when I glance toward Tiffany from the corner of my eye, I get the feeling she’d rather be anywhere but here, with anyone but Joss and me.

The bad feeling I’ve had about tonight only worsens with every second that passes.

Joss rings the bell, sending my heart into a full-blown panic. My nerves get the best of me, too, and I’m fidgeting with my hair and clothes. It’s like preparing for a blind date, praying you meet the guy’s expectations, praying you don’t mess everything up. Only, in this scenario, I’m not just hoping to earnoneperson’s approval.

There’s an entireswarmto worry about.

The door swings open, and I hold my breath, forcing a smile I can only hope looks natural.

“Ladies! Welcome!” April screeches, and I hate how difficult it is to tell if she’s being sincere or not. If I only had her expression to go by, I’d buy it, but then I remember how she and the others side-eyed and snubbed us at the press conference.

Yep, no chance this is genuine.

“I hope you don’t mind. I made you nametags. The other girls are wearing them, too,” she says, pulling stickers off a sheet that she then presses to our chests without warning.

My smile tightens as I pretend I’mnotweirded out by how she just aggressively invaded my personal bubble. “Perfect! Thank you.”

“Everyone’s out on the patio,” she says, smiling back. “I hired Chef Anton to cater this evening. Any of you ladies heard of him?”

“I have,” I answer. “He’s been the mayor’s go-to for years.”

“Because he’s fantastic!” she squeals. “And he’s prepared quite the spread for us tonight. Although, I’m not sure how much room you and Joss have for a second dinner.”

I feel my face twitch when she not-so-subtly brings up that she knows Joss and I have already eaten.

“And… that sounded like I’m stalking you,” she says with a laugh. “Sorry, I probably should’ve explained that I saw the pics you posted, Blue.”

What she doesn’t say is that she also sawPandora’spost, but I’m positive she’s addicted to the gossip just like everyone else.

I force another tight, unnatural smile. “Oh. Right.”

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