Page 18 of Something New

By the time Anna got back to the house, she was calmer, her muscles tired and loose. The girls were up, already being directed by Caroline for their first day’s adventure.

A spa day. This was something Anna could get behind. Since the story had broken about the waitress, Anna had been hiding out in her house, not getting her manicure or even a massage. She didn’t even dare ask anyone to come to the house, not trusting their discretion. Another lesson learned in the land of bright lights. So, she desperately needed some pampering. In the interest of being friendly and making the wedding smoother, Anna watched her commentary and stayed quiet, cognizant of the staff and the fact that they immediately had recognized her.

When they were waiting for the massages, two of the girls at the desk were whispering behind their hands, casting unfriendly glances at Anna, who steadfastly ignored them. Delaney was the only one sitting next to her, Brigid and Caroline still finishing their waxing. Delaney glanced back and forth, her brow furrowed.

Anna flipped the page of the gossip magazine, not even seeing the pages in front of her. “Don’t think about it so hard, Delaney. I’m sure you’ve had enough people talking about you behind your back or right in front of you not to be bothered by it.”

“I guess I thought no one else understood what it was like,” Delaney said softly.

Anna glanced up and arched her eyebrow. “You thought you were the only one people ever said nasty things about, talked about, or hated?” She gave a raw laugh. “Trust me, Delaney, you don’t even break the top ten in LA. The difference between you and me was in how we handled it. See, these girls are almost hoping I’ll do something, hoping to get something on film so they can sell it or at least tell their friends they saw Anna Costado wigging out about something. The story will always be exaggerated and most often completely false. But the truth never matters because people always want to believe the worst of you. Am I right?”

Delaney nodded, lips pursed, as she pondered Anna’s words. “I guess so. I mean, everyone had this horrible image of me. People who even knew me suddenly seemed to think I was this horrible, nasty, demanding person, throwing money away and tramping on orphans or something. I don’t know where that came from.”

“And you did what many people do. You ran from it.” Anna closed the magazine and shifted in her seat, making sure her white robe covered everything so no pictures could sneak through. “See, that was your mistake. They’re braver in mobs when they can be anonymous. If everyone is doing it, they’re safer. And when you run, now you’re prey, so they give chase. You never fought, Delaney.”

“Does fighting help? Didn’t you try to fight any of the false stories?”

Anna blinked, thinking about how she could handle this question. “I try, when I can. I put the truth out there and do what I can. But sometimes the truth doesn’t matter. No one wants to hear it, not really. I have to let it go, pretend it doesn’t bother me. Because if they know it bothers you, they’re like sharks scenting blood in the water, and they’re relentless in their pursuit.”

She settled back in her seat, confident she’d made her point. She opened her magazine to a random page. Delaney sat quietly next to her, but Anna could almost hear the thoughts working through her head, could see them in the way Delaney’s hands twisted in her lap. “But doesn’t it bother you? How can you ignore it?”

“Who said it doesn’t bother me?”

At that moment, Anna was called in by the masseuse, and she tossed the magazine aside. “Great article on page fifty-six but they got the entire story wrong. I was there.” She announced loudly for the sake of the girls shamelessly eavesdropping. As she closed the door, she glimpsed one of the girls heading for the table where she had tossed the magazine and smiled. Maybe it would make them think. But at least she made her point with Delaney.

Chapter Eight

After the day at the spa, dodging sly innuendos and fan-girl moments from workers there, Anna escaped to her room and took a well-deserved nap. She woke in time for the evening activities. The guys had been golfing, and all looked relaxed, ready for whatever mischief Caroline had planned. And Anna was convinced Caroline was up to something, based on the assumption the other girls had, which was matchmaking. Well, she’d fail with Anna and Wyatt. He hated her, hated what she’d become. Hell, some days she hated what she’d become too.

She met Wyatt in the hallway. He looked over her, from the casual jeans to the hooded sweatshirt emblazoned with the UT Longhorns logo on it, and he asked, “A little casual, don’t you think?”

“Well, Caroline said we weren’t staying at the house tonight, and I figured it might be best if I was a little less conspicuous.”

“That sweatshirt looks familiar.” His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, his fingers rubbing the hem of the ratty orange shirt.

She blushed. “You gave this to me when you graduated. I wear it all the time.”

His eyes warmed. “I’m glad you remembered something from home.”

“I always remembered you,” she said.

He gestured to the stairs, and she preceded him down and into the dining room. She took a seat next to Brigid while Wyatt sat across from her. She laughed nervously. “Are we at a middle school dance, boys on one side?”

Caroline grinned. “Not quite that bad, I hope. And more fun. We’re just waiting for Delaney. Oh, there she is.”

Delaney came in, her head down, not meeting anyone’s gaze, and Anna scowled. Even after her pep talk, Delaney was still skulking around like she had something to be ashamed of. Anna drummed her fingernails on the white table, darting looks at Wyatt, who seemed unconcerned as he sat across from her. Brigid was scribbling notes about her legal case, as if a legal case was more interesting than they were. Grady, Matthew’s brother, stretched out, hands folded on his chest, eyes closed. Ethan was already there too, looking bored. Matthew sat at the foot of the table, studying the group soberly.

All of them were trying to ignore the object in the middle of the table. A garish red lamp that belonged in a whorehouse, not a French Countryside cottage, was perched in the center of the table. The gold tassels swayed gently under the fan's movement of air and the red velvet of the lampshade definitely had seen better days. Anna had seen better set pieces on the cheapest theater productions than this item.

"I thought you threw that monstrosity out years ago," Anna said, lip curling in disgust.

"And throw away a piece of our history? Never." Caroline's eyes glinted with amusement. "We never got to finish our last game to decide who won the lamp."

"Don't you think we're a little too old for games? Besides, no one is going to want that in their house now."

"No one ever wanted it in their house. That was the whole point," Brigid replied.

"True. But it comes with a monetary prize as well. We had already anted up our fall prize money that last year. I saved it all and added to it. The winners receive one thousand dollars, and the loser gets the lamp," Caroline said.

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