10. Bigger Balls
10
Bigger Balls
ANDREW
From: Andrew Jones
To: Victor Lynch
Sent: November 9, 8:16 am
Subject: RE: Client dinner
Hi Vic,
I’m sorry, but my girlfriend isn’t able to come to the client dinner. Please let me know if you’d still like me to join you, alone.
- Andrew
Andrew Jones, Financial Engineering Lead
(saved in Drafts folder)
I watched Carly disappear into the spa, glad I’d had the chance to redeem myself after our disastrous dance at the gala. I hadn’t wallowed in my hurt feelings about her leaving me. I’d simply admired her glowing face and eyes. And somehow, seeing her bare feet in her spa slippers, her toenails painted a sparkly red-orange, had helped me see things from her perspective rather than my own.
She’d just gotten divorced. Sure, it was a year ago, but I understood the pain of loss. She might not feel it every day, but whenever something reminded her of what was gone, it was as painful as the day it happened. The invitation to Brad’s wedding must have hit her like that.
What an asshole. Why couldn’t he get married quietly at city hall like a regular guy? Why’d he have to rub it in Carly’s face by throwing a big wedding in the city where they’d honeymooned? Why’d he have to invite her?
But if she didn’t go, would she have friends or family to spend the holidays with? Or had Brad taken them too?
“Why were you talking to Carly Rose?”
My mother’s voice startled me from my thoughts. I glanced up and found her at the bottom of the spiral staircase from the second-floor salon suites. My sister was right behind her.
“We ran into each other.”
Unlike Carly, Mother was dressed in street clothes, her Burberry trench coat belted over her black slacks, her roots blond again, her hair styled. She frowned. “Why?”
Natalie stepped off the stairs and fluffed her long hair over her coat. “We all know Carly. I’m sure Andrew was only being polite.”
“It looked more than polite,” Mother said. “You were leaning toward her. You weren’t talking about me, were you?”
“No. We were talking about Brad Winner’s wedding.”
“Is she going?” Mother curled her lip.
“She said no.”
“That’s probably wise.” Her eyes softened. “Although…”
“Although?”
“Attending his wedding might be the kick in the pants they both need. He’d see he was a fool, again. And she’d see she’s better off without him. Everyone else would see what I’ve always known: she’s too good for him.”
“Really, Mother?” Natalie asked. “I thought you never liked her.”
“We’ve never been close.” She shook her hair over her shoulders as if feeling the new length. “At first, I was upset about their relationship. I was friends with Eleanor, Brad’s first wife. He treated her shamefully in the divorce. I saw Carly as a home wrecker. That was before I figured out Brad had lied to her. But after that vulgar bikini boat party?—”
Natalie cleared her throat and flashed me a smug grin.
“I saw her as a challenger. Our relationship was more rivalry than enmity. You respect your competition. At least, I do.”
“And you think she should go to Brad’s wedding?” I asked.
“I would. Not that Charles would ever treat me that despicably. But if I had the misfortune of being Brad Winner’s ex-wife, I’d go and show everyone who had bigger balls.”
“Mother!” Natalie gasped.
Two spots of color shone on our mother’s cheekbones. “I shouldn’t have accepted that glass of wine after my massage. Still, it’s true. Carly’s the better person.”
“Are you going, Mother?” Natalie asked.
“Absolutely not. Only a third wife would plan a wedding on Christmas Day in Spain and send out the invitations only six weeks before. Outrageous.”
“You think they had a reason to rush it?” Natalie asked.
“You mean to keep the attendance small? Possibly.” Mother tapped a pink-painted nail against her lip. “Brad was always a cheap bastard.”
“Mother!” I chuckled.
“Well, he is. I’m sure he did the same thing to Carly as he did to Eleanor. Smoke and mirrors and a ridiculous prenup. Eleanor’s alimony was shameful, but at least she got child support. I’m sure Carly is struggling to build her business on what she got. It would be easier to sell her services if everyone saw who the real victor was in that divorce.”
My mind spun. Everything my mother said aligned with Carly’s story, except the part about Mother sabotaging her. The screw that had tightened in my chest the night we danced loosened.
Carly’s success might depend on whether or not she went to her ex’s wedding. Only the richest among Brad’s friends could afford last-minute holiday airfare to Spain. Hayley had rich friends, too. Natalie had told me she was a model. Carly could show up in one of her elegant gowns, hold her head high, and rake in the clients.
Hell, I’d hire her to style me .
Which gave me an idea. One that could benefit us both.