Chapter 2
CHAPTER
Tara
One Year Ago
“WAIT UNTIL YOU see the costume I made.” Tara Hughes adjusted her video screen to better see her foster sister, Jordyn. Tara sat at a breakfast bar in her friend Sophie’s pool house, the de facto office space where they conducted business related to their cocreated podcast.
Sophie hadn’t arrived to start the work day yet, so it was a good time to touch base with Jordyn.
The foster siblings lived almost two thousand miles apart, but that didn’t prevent Tara from trying to reestablish a relationship with one of the most significant people in her life.
Tara had only been in the foster system for two years, but she would never have survived that tumultuous time without Jordyn.
It still blew her mind that she’d managed to mentally block out that time in her life—and the girl who’d saved her in every way possible—until a bout of therapy three years ago.
Tara had explored most of her repressed memories and dealt with the worst of them.
The best of them was Jordyn. It had taken a private investigator to find her long-forgotten foster sister, and she’d broken her promise to her adoptive family never to contact people from that life in order to do it.
But secretly defying her family had been worth the risk in order to reconnect.
Even if she still kept their relationship under wraps.
For now.
“I’ll bet it’s fabulous.” Jordyn scraped away a curtain of copper curls from her face with one hand while she clutched a coffee mug in the other.
She walked through her all-white Austin, Texas kitchen before dropping into a seat across from her screen.
She wore a black T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, a perk of working from home as a graphic designer.
“Although you have way too big of an advantage. I bet you’ll be the only one at your Halloween party in a costume designed by a Fashion Institute graduate. ”
Tara laughed, enjoying her friend’s utter faith in her.
How was it that a woman who’d been close to her for just two years as a kid could have such a high opinion of her coupled with zero envy?
Meanwhile, the privileged friends she’d made since moving to Saratoga at age fourteen were forever in competition with one another, perpetually ready to backstab.
“Well for all I know I’ll be the only one in costume since I’m not attending a party, per se.
Just my monthly book club meeting.” She checked the time on her screen, thinking she should probably wind up her conversation before Sophie arrived at the pool house—the “casita,” she called it—to start their work day.
“But I ask you, how can anyone host a book club on Halloween night and not expect people to show up in costume?”
“Clearly a costume should be worn.” Jordyn slid a pair of reading glasses onto her nose.
She looked so different from the stick-thin Goth girl that she’d been in their youth.
The old facial piercings were gone, but her self-made tattoo of a labyrinth on her forearm was still visible when she lifted her coffee cup. “Any hints what you’re dressing up as?”
Tara couldn’t keep it a secret. She was too excited about how the outfit had turned out. “I’m going as Maleficent. The headpiece I made with horns is the highlight of the whole thing. Although the train is something to behold, too.”
Behind her, she heard a screen door slam and guessed Sophie had left her main house to cross the courtyard to the casita. Before Jordyn could reply, Tara continued, “Shit. I’ve got to get my workday started.”
“No worries.” Jordyn winked at her and reached toward her screen. “Knock ’em dead.”
And then she was gone, her sign-off still echoing in Tara’s ears, a callback to the days when Jordyn had been like a stand-in mom, even though she was just two years older.
It bothered her deeply that she’d blocked memories of someone who’d been so instrumental in protecting her during her time in foster care, but her therapist had assured her that it was common in patients with dissociative amnesia.
The last few years of remembering and recovering her past had been painful but healing, too.
Now, Tara’s device returned to the open tab showing the day’s schedule for The Clean Break podcast. The first item on their agenda was to brainstorm their most explosive episodes for a “Best-Of” clip show in the new year.
“Good morning.” Sophie stepped into the living area of the casita, dressed in a gray jersey skirt and gray men’s button-down, her blond waves in a low ponytail.
Her blue eyes were bright as she walked straight toward the wet bar.
“It came to me last night what episode to feature in the highlight show.”
Frowning, Tara didn’t follow. “We need more than one episode though, right? I thought we were going to do a round-up of our best shows.”
Sophie spun away from the bar, never bothering to use a laptop when she had Tara around to take notes.
Sometimes the uneven power balance bugged Tara, but she also respected that Sophie was the creative force behind the show.
Tara had enjoyed working with her over the last few years, getting the show off the ground and then watching it turn into an “overnight success,” topping the charts for listens.
Success felt intoxicating after years of struggling with imposter syndrome.
Her adoptive family was wealthy, and her life with them had felt like an unearned luxury after those two gut-wrenching years in the foster system after her single-parent birth mother had died.
But the success of the show had been merited because of their hard work.
Still, getting swept up in her friend’s creative vision meant that Tara delayed chasing her own dreams, something Jordyn had helped her realize this past summer when they’d had their first in-person visit since they were kids.
Tara had spent her vacation week in Austin with Jordyn, although she’d timed it to coincide with a design conference so she could honestly tell friends and family that had been her purpose for the Texas trip.
Not just because she dreaded a confrontation with her parents when they learned how much time she’d spent rediscovering her past, but also because the friendship felt too special to share just yet.
“We’ll do clips around one featured episode,” Sophie clarified, opening her phone to scroll through whatever it was that was more important than their conversation.
“I got inspired for a whole new approach to the best-of format when I recalled the Mark Ribeki divorce. It was so popular, with lots of great sound bites. We can make that the centerpiece of the compilation.”
“Oh, Soph. You know how I feel about that one.” Her heart sank at the mention of one of The Clean Break shows that had left a bad taste in her mouth.
There’d been a handful of episodes that had been problematic for her. But that one was in the top three worst in her book.
NFL star Mark Ribeki and his wife, Evangeline Jameson, had agreed to arbitration via the show, something divorcing TCB guests were occasionally offered to simplify their process.
Sophie, who had a law degree that she’d used briefly in her father’s prestigious South Carolina firm before she changed career directions, had an arbitrator certification in New York state.
She was legally able to make judgments if her guests signed on for the process.
Ribeki had been beloved on the field and in his hometown, but had numerous, documented instances of infidelity.
The couple had lived in Louisiana, a state where fault-base divorces were allowed, so his wife had assumed the show would weigh in her favor.
But Sophie had shocked her listeners—and Tara—by suddenly announcing her decision on the couple’s assets would be swayed by a listener vote.
Tara had been stunned at the obvious ratings grab.
Ribeki’s fans had called in by the thousands, voting to give him almost everything in the couple’s split.
Sophie had agreed and a judgment was made heavily in his favor.
His ex-wife was still trying to appeal the decision through the legal system, but the last Tara had heard she hadn’t had any luck.
That had been one of the few episodes that Tara had argued with Sophie about. Normally, Tara did the behind-the-scenes legwork and left the podcast direction to Sophie. But she’d been appalled by her cocreator’s sudden decision to pander to listeners.
“And yet, there’s no arguing that it’s a fan favorite. If we want to keep growing, we need to take risks. Push boundaries sometimes.” Sophie gave Tara a sly smile. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Should business decisions be based on wanting adventure?” Agitated, Tara stood to pace off some of her frustration.
She walked a path between the ivory-colored couches near the fireplace and the eggshell-colored reading chairs near the built-in bookshelves.
“This isn’t like midnight skinny dipping or hooking up with a stranger.
We have a responsibility to take people’s break-ups seriously. ”
“Do we? What do you not understand about the entertainment industry? Because at the end of the day, that’s what we’re doing.
People listen to The Clean Break for the entertainment value, not because they want to be sure some quarterback’s trophy wife gets a share of his car collection.
” Sophie swiveled the leather seat of her barstool back and forth, her arms folded over her chest. “We don’t need to defend the show’s choices, Tara.
We get to decide how we want to entertain people. ”
“Actually, no, we don’t. You do, Sophie.” She stopped in front of her friend’s chair, wondering how things had shifted from a partnership to Sophie being in charge. “I don’t know how or when you decided that you should call all the shots with the show, but it’s my program too.”