Chapter 15 #3
I nearly choked on my own saliva, making a scene of it so there wasn’t a question in their minds. “No. What? Absolutely not. It wasn’t talk of a job, and I’m not taking home leftovers.” I made sure that last word came out with the appropriate level of disdain it needed for this exchange.
“What’s wrong with leftovers?” Eloise asked, her voice hitting a new octave.
I couldn’t believe she would let this topic offend her. She was Eloise…she didn’t get offended. Not a single thing offended her. Ever. “Nothing, sweetie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Cici, you know I hate when you patronize me.”
Was she trying to make a fool of me in front of others? I wouldn’t stand for it. I shook my head and shot her a look, widening my eyes just enough to get the message across that I wanted her to drop this. “I’m not. Why don’t we talk about something else?”
Maribel stopped eating her blackened cod long enough to make a miserable effort. “Yes, like when will you be leaving, Eloise?”
Her tone made it obvious that she was judging my sister, which meant the gloves were about to come off. Eloise wouldn’t sit idly by while these women mistreated her. Not that she should. It just meant that things were going to get ugly. It’d be my worst nightmare.
Cutting a glare to Eloise, I gestured for her to eat while I cut a piece of my salmon and tried to casually answer. “She’ll be here through Christmas. Right, Eloise?”
“Tragedy. It seems this is not the life you’re accustomed to, Eloise,” Maribel said.
Nodding at her side like an idiot bobblehead doll, Lilian added, “May make the holiday hard on you. Have you considered what a Christmas in…anywhere else would look like?”
And with that, the gloves were definitely coming off. Just not from Eloise’s hands. From mine.
My sister might have been a lot of things, but she didn’t deserve to be spoken to in such a way.
She was a good person. Far better, actually, than either Lilian or Maribel.
“I think she’s right where she belongs this Christmas.
Maybe where we don’t belong is here, at dinner with you two, unfortunately.
Thank you for inviting us, but we’ll be leaving now.
I’ll pay for our tab on our way out.” I pushed my chair back and gestured for Eloise to stand up, the shock coloring her expression as vivid as one particular memory that was never far from my thoughts no matter how hard I tried to push it away.
I pulled my pants up and was about to reach for my purse hanging on the door of the bathroom stall I occupied when I heard loud cackles coming from a group of women who must’ve just entered. Until now I’d been alone in here.
“Could you believe her?” a voice I recognized as the leader of the group who was hosting the party asked. The question had me frozen in place, listening intently. I was a newcomer, so I wasn’t sure exactly who they were talking about, but I hoped fiercely that it wasn’t me.
Oh, heaven forbid, it was me. Please, don’t let it be me they’re talking about.
One option might have been for me to open the door and leave the stall and stop them from continuing, otherwise I might hear something I didn’t want to. But the other option was too alluring—stay and listen.
The faucet turned on, and I made sure not to move a muscle. The only thing deceiving me at the moment was my heart, which was beating so hard that I could hear the pounding in my ears.
“I know. And what kind of name is that anyway? Candy.” It was hard not to pick up on the disdain evident in the voice. “I mean, could she be any more of a tramp?”
Tears stung my eyes as I realized I should’ve gone with the first option. They were talking about me. Me! Worse, they were judging my name. I just didn’t care much for Candace. I’d always been Candy. And…and…I was a good person. A decent person. Well, I tried to be. I was far from a…tramp.
A tongue clacking later, then someone else chimed in, only adding fuel to the fire. “Poor Nick. He has no idea how bottom of the barrel he just scraped. Wes wants me to play nice, but I’m not sure I can. My pinkie has more class than her.”
Someone pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser. “She should crawl back to whatever bar he found her in and never look back.”
I swallowed thickly past the incredibly large lump in my throat that threatened to close off my—
“Did you see the outfit she wore? There’s nice, and then there’s nice. Unfortunately, she has no taste at all.”
Would I ever fit in? I peered down at my clothes. I was wearing a beautiful pantsuit I had picked up from my favorite boutique. How dare they? If there was anything I knew and appreciated in this world, it was clothes.
More cackling ensued.
“She probably wore it already and this would be her second, maybe even third go with it.”
“Oh, yeah, she screams outfit repeater.”
“And her breasts. Could they be shoved up any more in my face? Excuse me, but I like a little breathing room.”
“Bet Nick likes it.”
“Nah. I don’t think he’s much of a boob man.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He turned down a feel of mine.” Someone popped open a purse. “Did I ever tell you the time Nick walked into our pool house and my husband was feeling me up right there on the couch? I offered the guy a squeeze, but he went beet red and turned around so fast.”
Laughter ripped through the small space. “Someone should tell Candy.”
With my shock worn off, the tears came pouring down my cheeks with abandon.
They had only been pretending to be nice to me.
I’d thought I was making real connections, with people who would become friends.
I knew being with Nick wouldn’t be easy, having come from an entirely different world than his, but I didn’t think it’d be like this.
And this was only the first party he’d brought me to.
What would he think if he knew the way people saw me?
The women kept gossiping, a third and fourth voice piping up every now and again to say something else horrific about me, but I couldn’t hear anymore. Between the way they gossiped about me and the man I loved, I wished I had never come to this party, that I had never met these mean, ugly women.
Breaking through the fog that passed through my head, I rolled my lips. “I’m so sorry, Eloise, those women—”
Wrapping her arms around me, she pulled me close for a hug. I wasn’t much of a hugger, so I kind of stood there, stiffly, while she did all the work. “You really had my titties back there, Cici.”
That was one way to put it. I patted her back. “You’re my sister. I’ll always have your…titties.”