Chapter 1 #2
I didn’t feel like I was winning, but there was nothing I could do about that for the moment.
People liked to see their matchmakers in loving, healthy relationships, and, unfortunately, that hadn’t been the reality for the Cozzi sisters.
Until recently, Tori had spent her entire adult life as a serial monogamist, dating men who didn’t deserve her.
I’d married Freddy, a serial cheater, who I stayed legally bound to for the sake of our children.
The truth about our love lives would destroy our reputation as matchmakers and make me prey for the paparazzi.
The thought of our sons seeing their parents’ marriage dissolution play out in the press was enough to make me sick to my stomach.
“Go get some alcohol,” I suggested. “Free drinks, remember?”
“I can afford to buy my own drinks.” I was afraid he’d stick to my side all evening, but his eyes drifted over to the bar and he relented. “Fine. I’ll mingle.”
Grateful to be shed of him, I joined Rocco and Jamison who were standing in the reception area near one of the giant couches.
The crowd was growing by the second, and I had to turn sideways to scoot through a group of people.
Someone’s glass tipped onto my shoes, dousing my toes with champagne. Fantastique.
“Hey, sweetie.” Rocco gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I see you brought your French handbag with you.”
I looked distractedly at the tiny Coach bag on my arm before I realized he was talking about Freddy. “Very funny.”
Jamison smacked his husband’s arm. “Ignore him. He’s off gluten and it makes him cranky.”
“Seriously, though…” Rocco glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice, “if you ever need to get rid of him, I’ll help you hide the body.”
I snorted and took a swig of champagne. The bubbles tickled my nose, bringing on a sneeze that I successfully suppressed. “Thanks. I’ll take that into consideration next time I’m feeling homicidal.”
The three of us watched Freddy lean against the bar that was set up for the event. He was already flirting with one of the bartenders, who looked about half his age.
“It’s not worth doing prison time for him,” I said.
When Freddy sauntered away from the bar with his drink in hand, the bartender’s eyes tracked his movements.
He was still trim and suave at fifty-three, and it wasn’t the young woman’s fault she was ogling a married guy because he never wore a wedding band, even before we separated.
His excuse was that European men didn’t wear wedding rings, which was either true or one of the convenient explanations that he was so good at finding for his behavior.
“Look at him.” I nodded my head toward Freddy. “He has no problem picking up women wherever he goes.”
Rocco and Jamison exchanged side-eyed glances.
“Honey, you’d meet someone else if you divorced him,” Jamison said. “You’re gorgeous, funny and smart, not to mention loaded. You don’t need him.”
“Tori is all loved up now,” Rocco added. “While the media is focused on her new relationship, this is your chance to dump Freddy.”
“Did I hear my name?” Tori appeared at my elbow.
I swiped my thumb over her cheek where someone had left a lipstick kiss mark. “I thought you had to talk to other people?”
“I said that because I can’t be around Freddy without wanting to kick him in the nuts.” She leaned in and stage whispered, “Now, what are we talking about?”
“I was telling Lauren she needs to get rid of him once and for all.” Rocco cupped his hands around his mouth and hissed, “Divorce.”
“We want her to be free to meet someone else,” Jamison chimed in.
“Meeting someone else is the least of my concerns.” Seeing their raised eyebrows, I added, “Seriously. When we get divorced—which we will eventually—I’m going to be too busy dealing with a media cyclone to think about dating. I’ll probably have to hide out in my apartment for a year.”
“Then why not get it over with now?” Rocco asked. “The longer you wait, the more years you lose.”
I sighed and stared into my empty glass. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”
“We’re not trying to gang up on you,” Rocco said, “but we’ve been worried about you. You’ve lost your Lauren sparkle.”
“Thanks a lot!” I looked around for another tray of champagne glasses.
“What we’re saying,” Jamison added, giving his husband the stink eye, “is that you seem to be stuck in neutral. Your kids are out of college and starting their careers. Tori has this new business venture with Jenna. Freddy is doing his sailing thing in Europe. And you’re just… ”
“A loser?” I supplied.
Tori put her arm around me. “No one said that, honey. Look at you in this sexy dress! You’re stunning and—” She looked over our heads. “Oops, they’re summoning me. Time to shine!” And with that, she was off.
“Our sister loves a stage,” Rocco said as our eyes followed Tori across the room.
“I’m not like her, you know,” I said defensively. “I don’t need a million projects, and I hate being in the public eye.”
“We know,” Jamison said. “We just love you and want to see you happy.”
I bit down on my lip to keep myself from tearing up. My emotions were so close to the surface these days. “I’m in a down phase and feeling a little burned out. It will pass.”
Liar. I’d been in close contact with my financial advisor in the past few months to figure out when I could retire.
I used to think I’d work until death because I loved my job so much, but now…
something was shifting inside me and the more I fought it, the harder it tugged.
The walls of my office were closing in on me.
My apartment felt like a cage. If I didn’t make a change soon, I was going to suffocate.
“Maybe you need to move to a new apartment,” Rocco said, as if reading my mind. “A new space, a new outlook. Somewhere with a nice big soaking tub where you can wash away all thoughts of that idiot ex-husband of yours.”
I gave him a dubious look. “He’s not officially my ex yet, and that’s a lot to ask of a soaking tub.”
“Welcome, everyone!” Tori’s voice claimed the room, her rich alto amplified by the mic she held in her hand.
She and Jenna stood in front of a pink curtain that blocked off the back of the room.
“I’m Tori Cozzi, as most of you already know, and this is my business partner, Jenna Rossolino.
Thank you for coming here tonight to support us in the unveiling of Jentori Haircare.
We’re thrilled you’re here with us. Your support means so much, and we hope you bring home some samples of our products so you can look as fabulous as we do. ”
The crowd laughed at her joke and, with a hair toss, she handed the mic to Jenna, who also looked incredible in a short gold dress topped with a leather moto jacket. She’d styled her dark hair to perfection in a sleek shoulder-length bob.
“Thanks, Tori.” Jenna’s voice wavered slightly.
“We believe in these products because we helped create them. Yes, there are lots of haircare lines on the market, but many of them make promises they can’t deliver.
A lot of them are bad for the rest of your body too.
Jentori is free from dangerous chemicals, one hundred percent vegan, ethically sourced, and”—she lowered her chin and dropped her voice into a conspiratorial tone—“to be blunt, this shit is going to make your hair look amazing.”
The crowd clapped and cheered, and, off to the side, there was Nick gazing at Tori with such a fierce look of admiration and love that I felt both delighted for them and bereft that I’d never had anyone look at me that way in my entire life.
I’d been married over two decades, and I’d never been sincerely adored that way. Maybe I never would.
Jenna handed the mic back to Tori. “Without further ado,” she said, “let’s unveil the products!”
Tori pulled a string to make the curtain behind them drop to the floor.
Sure enough, we could all see a table stacked with haircare products in gorgeous pink and gold packaging.
But no one was looking at that. Instead, we collectively gasped and stared at the couple making out to the side of the table.
The woman had both hands inside the man’s unbuttoned pants and was clearly doing a job that had nothing to do with salon work.
Sensing their audience, the couple froze in what must have been an unplanned sexual tableau. I blinked several times, thinking I could clear the error in my vision. That couldn’t be Freddy and the young bartender standing there in flagrante delicto…
I shrieked and covered my mouth as Jamison and Rocco swung their heads towards me.
Time felt suspended, and then pandemonium broke loose.
Media cameras flashed as guests whipped out cell phones.
Freddy zipped up his trousers, and the bartender spun around to put her back to the crowd.
White noise, like the din of a passing train, filled my ears as I stood paralyzed in horror.
The bartender pushed her way through the crowd and ran straight out the front door, shirt still unbuttoned as she clutched it closed. Cameras flashed and people started shouting at me. I couldn’t process any of their words.
As Rocco put a protective arm around my shoulder and ushered me toward the back of the salon, one thought ran through my head.
My life was over.