Page 26 of So Close

“Thanks, babe.” He starts rifling.

I want to ask him why he’s never suggested me for ECRA+. And I hate my husband for not thinking of it. I dig deep for the courage to suggest myself as a model, but the possibility of being laughed at is unbearable.

Pulling down the hem of my dress, I think about Lily’s outfit. I felt so confident when I entered the library, so sure I’d picked just the right balance between Aliyah and Lily. When I saw my mother-in-law, I’d felt even better about my choice, knowing I looked younger and classier. Then Lily walked in wearing black silk slacks and a black corset top with lace on the boning and black velvet bra cups. Overtly sexy. Casually elegant. Completely confident. The chic bob, smoky eyes and bright red mouth were sassy bows on the total package.

Kane had locked in on her, the way he does with any woman who looks like her, but there’d been something else in his eyes. A spark instead of the usual lifelessness. Something dark and hot. It was either lust so fierce he’s a slave to it, or rage.

Our driver slams on the brakes, jerking us forward. He tosses a quick apology even as he lays on the horn, cursing under his breath. The traffic is a total snarl, with cars changing lanes without signaling, hoping to find a way through faster than everyone else.

Years of Lily’s life have been lost to her, yet there’s no timid hesitation, no loss of purpose or control, no wariness. Since I crossed paths with Kane, I haven’t fared so well. I somehow wandered into a funhouse, and the life reflected at me is exactly what I’d always dreamed of but distorted. I’m married to a gorgeous, successful sex machine with a close-knit family. My business is changing lives. I have an epic home, and I can buy anything my heart desires. But it’s all wrong. I haven’t blossomed like Lily; I’ve shriveled into nothing. I’m not bold. I have no power. Even my body isn’t my own.

How did Lily come out of a void with everything while I live a dream and have nothing?

Ramin tosses his head back to take a drink. When he lowers his arm, I grab the flask and take a big swallow. I offer it to Darius.

“It’s the middle of the damn day!” he snaps.

Shrugging, I take another drink.

I feel like chopping off my hair. Darkening my eye shadow. Ripping the slit at my hem to expose more thigh. I once used to sail through life the way Lily does, feeling beautiful and sexy and in command. She walked right up to Kane, put her hands on him and faced him head-on when he put his hands on her. No fear, no hesitation.

I don’t know what I’d expected to see. Abstractly, I must have assumed he’d been different with Lily. Open instead of closed off. Tender and kind. Playful. But maybe that’s what love looks like on Kane. Intense and searing and terrifying.

“You two won’t even consider that maybe they actually love each other.” My voice is hoarse, my chest tight. Kane has never been mine, and I don’t even like him, yet the thought of him in love with someone else is excruciating.

Ramin shrugs. “Wouldn’t make a difference either way.”

No.Kane can’t have everything. The beautiful wife, the penthouse, the high-valuation company on the verge of explosive growth.

The town car rocks gently as the taxi behind us taps the bumper. Our driver flips the bird through the gap in the two front seats.

How is Lily so fucking fierce? How could she approach Kane like she hadn’t a care in the world while he looked at her like he wanted to rip into her jugular with his teeth? And the way he pulled her to him, the dominance and possession … She wasn’t cowed by that at all, while the rest of the women Kane screwed and screwed over were all left reeling. First blissful, then hopeful, then confused, then diminished.

Is that what he’s looked for all this time, above and beyond the physical resemblance? That taunting sexuality? The dauntless confidence? Had he seen those qualities in me when we met?

I remember Erika in that sleek red dress, her shoulders back and her chin high. She’d known how desirable she was when she’d headed right toward him.

She’s tried to call me since, but I always send her to voicemail. It’s not me she wants to talk to; it’s Kane, who never gives out his personal number – the only private way to reach him. Everything else goes through his admin at work or Witte. I’ve been in Erika’s shoes. I know she’s not so confident now and will never be to the same extent again.

“Lily will have her hands full, too,” I think aloud. “Your brother’s not a college kid scraping by with athletic scholarships and bartending anymore. Kane was manageable when she was rich, and he was poor.”

“Still, she’s settled right in.” Ramin catches my eye and winks as if we share some secret. “She jumped straight into spending money, filling her closet, ordering Witte around and putting Mother in her place.”

The pleasure of watching those two women sharpen their claws fades now. Aliyah has already left scars on me after years of swipes and barbed pleasantries. Lily handled her deftly and looked like she wouldn’t think twice about escalating into all-out war.

“Happy wife, happy life.” Darius reaches for my hand as if our marriage somehow meets that criterion. I squeeze as hard as I can, just for a moment, but it feels good to hurt him a little.

I remember the way Kane watched Lily when she entered. That glowing stare, like a molten blade straight out of the forge. Six years as a widower, fucking anyone he wanted to, blowing through money any way he pleased. Now he’s got a high-maintenance and high-handed wife to keep happy. It’ll keep him busy for a while, at least, while I get my shit together.

Now I know what’s been missing from my plans –me. It’s time to turn those carnival mirrors around to face the Armand family. Then they’ll see what I see when I look at them.

Maybe then they’ll know why I have to destroy them all.

20

WITTE

With gloved hands,I set the warming stone with the supper plate atop it on the place mat I’ve arranged on Mr Black’s desk. A note from Lily on monogrammed stationery is lying on the leather blotter. His name is written in her bold, feminine handwriting, the letters slanting to the left. Her signature is an upright oversizedL, curled at the top and bottom, with the other letters leaning into it. There is no message, just the imprint of her lips in her signature dramatic red lipstick. The silver-framed photo of her lies facedown beside it.

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