Page 60 of The Party Plot

A few polite claps from the captive audience. “Jesus, is she accepting an Oscar?” Casey muttered under his breath. Laurel squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Now, I’ve prepared a little surprise in honor of all you fabulous people here,” Denise continued. “A long time ago, I was blessed enough to win Miss Idaho. Yes.” She nodded, hand still on her heart, as if to absorb everyone’s admiration. “And believe it or not, my talent was singing. So the band and I have thrown together a little number…”

The familiar tune ofMoon Riverstarted up, and Laurel couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Man, she was really going for it. Had he been this embarrassing at karaoke? He sure hoped not.

Melody pointedly checked her phone as Denise launched into her best Audrey Hepburn impression. Laurel chewed on another cardboard-tasting meatball. Denise sounded good, but the song wasn’t exactly a banger, and people were starting to get restless. Casey mimed taking a nap. Laurel was contemplating whether his mom had any critical thinking skills, and if she had ever bothered to read the actual book, because he was pretty sure Holly Golightly wasn’t supposed to be an aspirational character, and—

“Melody! Melody Harper, is that you?” someone exclaimed from across the room.

Birdie Callaway was bustling toward them, dance floor forgotten. Laurel felt sweat pooling on his lower back as several of the other guests looked their way, whispering. He groaned. It had only been a matter of time. They weren’t exactly inconspicuous, Laurel’s chestplate shining under the lights and Melody covered in gold beading and glittery silk.

“Oh, and Laurel!” Birdie exclaimed, pulling him into a hug before he could do anything to stop it. Her cheeks were shiny, dark plums, and she bore a lingering aroma of sherry. Pulling back to look at him, she smiled sweetly, lipstick on her teeth. “My goodness, look at you. So handsome. And is that Casey? Well, well. Hail Caesar! What a magnificent trio y’all make. Oh, to be young and beautiful!” She put a hand on her heart.

“Thanks so much, Birdie,” Laurel said, trying to extricate himself. “We actually—”

“And Melody, Queen of the Nile herself!” Birdie fixed her wobbly gaze on Melody, grabbing her hand. “Sweetheart, you’re a vision. And—and you look so healthy. And, gosh, you know, I really do owe you an apology. It’s—difficult, you know. To believe certain things until they happen to someone close to you. But I should have believed you all along.”

“Oh, Birdie.” Melody looked like she might cry, and she was squeezing Birdie’s hand just as hard as Birdie was squeezing hers, and for a moment, Laurel forgot about Denise, who was still singing, but louder now, as if to cover up the chatter that had started to rise.

But only for a moment.

“Excuse me.” Denise tapped the microphone with one nail. “Is there something—“ Her mouth snapped shut like a steel trap. She had seen them now, and she was glaring directly at Laurel. The buzz and crackle of the microphone stretched out across the room.

A chill went down his spine, and he felt his stomach shrivel up, but there was nowhere to go, because now Denise was down on the ballroom floor, cutting her way through the crowd.

“Laurel.” His mother’s voice, whip-sharp and cold. Her hand was on his arm, nails digging in. The band seemed to have stopped playing, but he wasn’t entirely sure, because his ears felt full of cotton, even the hammer of his pulse sounding muffled. For a moment, he was small again. She was dragging him out of the cupboard he’d hid in on his birthday. She was parading him around at church, the collar of his shirt stiff and starchy at his neck. She was telling him to sing, hissing in his ear,don’t you dare ruin this for me.

“Mom,” he said, mouth dry.

“How dare you. I told you you weren’t welcome. And why did you bringhim?” She narrowed her eyes, looking at Casey.

“He’s here as my date.” It was a relief to say it.

A murmur rippled across the room, and Birdie clapped her hands, saying, “Oh, bless you both!” Laurel felt the weight of many eyes, and he forced himself to breathe, bracing himself for Denise’s reaction.

But it hardly seemed to register for her. “Don’t joke, Laurel, it’s not funny. I don’t know what’s gotten into you or why you’re determined to sabotage my party, but you need to leave. All of you.” Denise crossed her arms, looking at him, then at Melody. “Have you been drinking?”

“I don’t know, Mom. Have you?” It was weird how calm he felt, or maybenumbwas a better word, a buzzing sound in his head, his fingertips tingling. Laurel was vaguely aware of the rustle of Casey’s toga as he moved closer, putting a hand on Laurel’s back. A solid, grounding spot of warmth in the chaos. “We really are dating,” he added, leaning into him.

“No you’re not. You’re just acting out again. Trying to embarrass me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve being treated this way. Casey, I really thought you were better than this. And Laurel, we aredone. No more handouts, no more beach house, no more inviting you to stay just so you and your little friends can go out on the town and make fools of yourselves every night.” Denise sighed theatrically, smoothing her hair.

“Fine,” Laurel said. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure.” He’d miss the beach house. Or at least the kitchen. But most of his money came from his dad.

“My God, the things I have to put up with!” Denise started to make herself cry, one perfect, mascara-stained tear trickling down her face. “I just don’t understand how you can be so ungrateful.”

“Hon, it’s okay.” Meredith had emerged from the crowd, rubbing Denise’s shoulder. She shot Laurel a dirty look. He could only imagine what stories Denise had told her.

Laurel didn’t say anything. A small part of him was squirming, wanting to go to his mom, to hug her and apologize and start the whole cycle of guilt all over. But Casey’s hand on his back reminded him that he didn’t have to, not this time.

“It’s not!” Denise shrieked. “I want themout! Both of you, before I call security. Andshecan’t be here, either,” she added, pointing at Melody. “I have a very exclusive guest list, and there are people on it who would not like to be in the same room as her, let alone beharassed—”

“No one’s harassing anyone except you,” Casey said, his voice flat.

“Don’t you dare speak to me,” Denise hissed. “Don’t say a damn word.” She pulled out her phone, stabbing at the screen with one finger. “Security will be here in a moment, so unless you want to get dragged out, I suggest you all—”

“Son of a bitch,” someone said, loud enough to echo across the room.

“Oh, for fucksake,” Melody groaned. “I should have known.” Birdie rubbed her arm sympathetically.

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