Page 11 of 2045 Clementine Lane: Catherine

“All right ladies,” Sandra yells on the screen, interrupting my train of thought, “we’re going to hold at the bottom here for one minute!”

“Fuuuuck.”

“And go!” Sandra sounds way too happy about the squat hold.

I hold my squat at ninety degrees. “All I’m saying is that this manfiredyou from your job and left you to fend for yourself.” I lean my elbows on my quads, trying to take some of the pressure off my burning thighs. “Tell me you threw a glass of champagne in his face? Or, acted disappointed when you saw his peenie.”

Jules doesn’t smile as I was hoping. She looks down into her mug as if she’s trying to divine her fate in the coffee.

“Don’t saypeenie.” Toni walks past, heading for the kitchen. “It’s called apenis. And as a grown woman who has handled many, you should at least be able to say that.”

I snigger, but keep my eyes trained on Jules. “Did you act disappointed when you saw hispenis?”

“No.”

“No?Why not?”

She mumbles something I don’t hear.

“What?”

Juliette stands so quickly that I take a surprised shuffle back and fall on my ass. I stare at her from my position on the ground, too shocked to say anything asshe takes her coffee and sweeps out of the room towards the backyard, the long ears on her ridiculous bunny slippers flopping around erratically with every harried step.

“What the—”

“He recognized her,” Toni tells me before entering the kitchen.

“What?” I push to a stand and follow her through.

“Dylan Duke. He recognized her.” She opens the fridge and pulls out homemade tomato juice.

I watch in silence as Toni measures a doubleBelvedereand pours it over ice in a glass that she’s already rimmed with celery salt and chili powder. The smell of vodka makes my stomach turn, but I’m too curious to leave.

Toni plops a stalk of celery into her drink—the breakfast of champions—and walks out, leaving me to follow. She takes Jules’ place on the sofa, her legs folded buddha-style beneath her, her teddy riding up to her hips. She drinks half the Bloody Mary in one go.

“So, shedidn’tsleep with him?”

Toni’s dark eyes shift, focusing on where Jules paces outside. “She did—that’s all I was able to get out of her.”

“Oh, shit.” As Sandra drones on behind me, I sit on my yoga mat on the floor and look up at Toni. “What happened tothe plan? We had it all worked out!”

“She couldn’t go through with it.”

“We should have had Lyla do it.”

“Why do you think I didn’t?” Toni stirs her drink with the long stalk of celery.

“You didn’t want her to crush him?”

“It wasn’t about crushinghim,” she reminds me. “We wouldn’t be in business if that were the case. It was aboutclosure forher, which, coincidentally, is the only reason I supported your scheming in the first place.”

Outside, Jules has taken to muttering as she paces back and forth on the patio. Her short pajama bottoms and black Hard Rock Café top are barely visible beneath the open lapels of her black, silk kimono robe, which swirls around her long legs as she spins. Add in the bunny slippers and she’s dressed like an old lady who escaped from the care home for one last joyride. “The way she always talked about him…I just assumed she was ready.”

“I don’t know.” Toni’s eyes take on a faraway expression. “I think it’s quite fitting.”

“How?” I wave an arm in Jules’s direction. “Look at her! She’s a mess.”

“Maybe she’ll finally realize that he wasn’t the problem.”

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