Chapter 6
CHAPTER
Tara
One Year Ago
NEEDING A FRIEND-TALK to bolster her spirits after a rough week of podcast drama, Tara stood on Fatima’s front porch amid the potted mums and pumpkins and rang the bell. She had a bottle of cabernet tucked under one arm, her surefire ticket to an invitation inside.
A few moments later, after continuous barking from her two shih tzus, Poppy and Milo, Fatima herself flung open the door.
Dressed in a belted silk gown that could have been a night robe or a swimsuit coverup or a designer original, Fatima lived in dramatic, colorful clothing.
Her high-heeled green mules were probably her version of house slippers.
Tara tried not to feel underdressed in her athleisure separates that seemed sufficient whether she was going to the gym or the market.
Despite her adoptive mother’s admonishments to dress more fashionably, Tara still gravitated toward simple silhouettes.
For Tara, it was more fun to make other people stand out with fashion. Not herself.
Halloween being a notable exception.
“Is it wine o’clock yet?” Tara held up the bottle.
“Darling, you can count on it at my house.” Fatima opened the door wide while Poppy and Milo raced excited doggie circles around Tara’s feet.
“I just finished teaching my afternoon class online, and the girls won’t be home for two more hours.
Leyla has violin lessons and Sareena is at lacrosse practice. ”
Tara wasn’t surprised. Fatima ran her kids as hard as Sophie did hers, insisting on extra tutoring, endless extracurricular activities, and volunteer work, all in a bid to get them into the best college programs. Tara couldn’t help but empathize with the teens, since her adoptive mother had been every bit as demanding for Tara to distinguish herself at school.
That hadn’t been easy for her since—even before she’d gone into foster care—Tara had never attended the kind of rigorous academic programs that Lauren Hughes enrolled her in.
She’d worked her butt off to earn her adoptive mother’s approval, a perpetually elusive goal.
Minutes later, Fatima had the bottle open, and they were just settling into the barstools at her kitchen counter when the doorbell rang again.
“That’ll be Mei or Sophie,” Fatima guessed after a glance at her smart watch. “They both wrap up their work days around this time.”
Tara’s heart sank at the possibility that Sophie could be here now, when venting about Sophie had been a large part of her mission. Sophie was her friend, yes. But the greatest hits podcast was driving a wedge between them. Not to mention the drama with Luke.
But then Mei Kita entered the kitchen, a blue bottle of Riesling in her hand. Pausing, she held it up to show it off. “Great minds?”
Relieved that it was Mei, Tara enveloped her in a hug.
Was it her imagination, or was it only half-heartedly returned?
Mei was a hard-working, independent CPA who had been in their book club for years.
She’d had a long struggle with infertility and the fact that she was here with wine in hand surely meant this month had been another heartbreaker.
But Mei was also intensely private about her journey, so Tara only reached for the battery-operated opener to uncork the white wine that was Mei’s preferred pour.
“Well now it’s practically a party.” Fatima picked up her television remote and tapped a button to connect a music playlist, upping the happy hour vibe.
She did a shimmy-shake in her floral silk robe as she moved back to the bar and picked up her glass of red.
“What shall we make a toast to now that we’re together? ”
Tara met Mei’s gaze across the tops of their glasses, suspecting Mei hadn’t come to celebrate but to commiserate. Really, it was the same reason that had brought her here, even if the underlying cause was different.
“To friendship,” Tara offered, lifting her glass a little higher.
“I like it!” Fatima agreed, clinking both their glasses with hers.
Mei’s small smile was fleeting before she took a sip.
“I’m mostly here to drown my sorrows for an hour before I start dinner, so I’m just glad to hear the latest gossip.
Since I missed last month’s book club at Kaitlin’s house maybe you can tell me how life is among the Real Housewives of Saratoga? ”
“Ha.” Tara shook her head, not feeling remotely like a suburban diva. “I can’t answer since I’ve never been a camera-ready housewife.”
“Now, now,” Fatima admonished, striking a pose complete with a pout. “We are as glamorous and as accomplished as ever. Although we aren’t doing a book this month for book club, so we won’t win any prizes for being culturally aware.”
“Pretty sure that’s never been a concern for the TV housewives,” Tara offered, hoping they wouldn’t devote much time to discussing the previous month’s meeting.
Her memories of the gathering weren’t exactly happy.
Kaitlin was still nursing her grudge against Tara and Sophie for having her role cut out of The Clean Break.
She’d threatened a lawsuit twice in the past few months and their friendship had gotten downright uncomfortable.
Kaitlin had barely spoken a word to Tara all that evening.
“So we’re meeting at Sophie’s house on Halloween?” Mei asked, spinning a crystal charm around the base of her stemware. Hers was blue, Tara’s was pink, and Fatima’s was—as always—a red dragon.
“Correct. Although Sophie warned us we might get underway a little later than usual as she’s recording some extra promotions that day for The Clean Break,” Fatima observed dryly before turning to Tara. “No offense, of course Tara. I know she’s the one who makes those kinds of decisions.”
Tara ground her teeth together, frustrated that everyone believed Sophie ran the show and that Tara was some kind of underling. Well, everyone except for Kaitlin, who seemed as if she would be quite happy to sue both Tara and Sophie equally.
Even Luke treated Tara as some sort of hapless show intern that he could manipulate, rather than Sophie’s colleague.
Her blood boiled every time she recalled the way he’d taken advantage of her shock that day in the pool house.
She needed to have it out with him at some point.
But how could she find a time to speak to her partner’s husband alone without it seeming super awkward?
“Well I, for one, will be glad not to have to suffer through some tedious historical tome that I fall asleep trying to finish.” Mei smiled as if to soothe the barb of her different opinion. “No offense.”
“Oh, touché, Mei.” Fatima mimed silent applause at the comeback. “Someone’s come to happy hour with an edge.”
“You’re not kidding,” Mei muttered. “Our next toast ought to be to sharp edges.”
Fatima and Tara exchanged glances.
“That sounds like more than the usual wine-o’clock grievance—” Fatima began.
“I’m pretty sure Nikolai is cheating on me.”
Mei took a long drink of her wine, finishing the glass, while Tara and Fatima gaped.
Nikolai was an investment banker whose work was his life’s passion, frequently travelling out of the country to visit businesses that might be worthy of investment.
Tara had never heard Mei utter a word about that being a hardship for her.
She’d always seemed happily independent while remaining steadfastly devoted to her husband.
The only mentions Mei had made of him seemed positive. He’d been committed to her IVF efforts, rearranging his travel schedule to be with her for appointments.
“What makes you think so?” Fatima lifted the Riesling bottle to refill their friend’s glass with a generous serving.
“A colleague saw Nik at the bar in the Adelphi Hotel last week during a time he told me he had meetings in Manhattan.”
Tara frowned. “Is your colleague sure it was him? Hanging out at a local landmark doesn’t sound like the act of a man with something to hide. He must have known people would see him.”
Shrugging, Mei withdrew her phone and tapped through a few screens before sliding the device across the white marble counter toward them.
“My friend snapped a photo after she texted me. That’s definitely Nik walking out of the hotel with another woman.”
Fatima tipped the phone toward her to see the image from a better angle while Tara craned her neck to view it.
“It looks a little like you, Tara, from the back,” Fatima observed, lifting her attention from the screen to study Tara with an intent gaze. “Same color hair.”
“I thought the same thing,” Mei seconded in a hard voice. “Right down to the dress.”
“Of course it’s not me.” Alarmed, Tara scrambled to take the device from her friend. “Let me see.”
Scanning the image that Fatima had enlarged, Tara took in the details for herself.
Even from the back, Nikolai’s likeness was hard to deny since he was six-foot-four and built like a professional athlete.
His palm rested possessively on a woman’s hip, a signet ring of some kind visible on his right hand.
As for the woman, the auburn updo definitely resembled Tara’s on a very good hair day.
And the forest green dress was a simply cut ribbed knit that skimmed the woman’s subtle curves.
Tara had the same one—or at least something very similar—in her closet at home.
Though she’d never appeared so svelte in it.
Didn’t they see that?
“This isn’t me,” she protested quietly, as much to herself as to her friends.
Or would that be her former friends? Even she knew how bad the optics were.
“Oh please.” Mei snatched back her phone and slipped it into the taupe-colored statement bag that announced her wealth and status despite her dark jeans and T-shirt that were her everyday staples. “There’s a photo of you on The Clean Break website wearing that exact dress.”
Tara’s throat went dry, envisioning the picture from a promotional shoot for the fall show line-up. She looked the other woman in the eye. “Mei, I swear to you, that is not me in your friend’s photo.”
Mei’s mouth flattened into a disapproving line, but her gaze searched Tara’s. Looking for the truth?
Fatima cleared her throat before adding, “Forest green is a popular choice for redheads. And it’s not like Tara buys all designer originals. Someone else could have that same dress.”
When Mei didn’t reply right away, Tara jumped in again. “Plus photos can be altered so easily now with AI—”
“Are you suggesting my colleague took this photo and then altered it before sending it to me?” Mei slid off her barstool, shouldering her bag. “Look, Fatima, I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up some other time, all right?”
“Mei, let’s talk about this,” Tara protested as Mei started toward the foyer. “Have you asked Nikolai? He can tell you I wasn’t with him—”
Mei spun around fast to face her. “No, Tara, I haven’t.
” She blinked rapidly, the only sign that she might be rattled since she spoke with the same even tone as always.
Of all the book club members, Mei always seemed the most grounded.
The least likely to get dragged into drama.
But right now, the tension practically vibrated off her.
“And I don’t plan to talk to him about it either, so you’re not going to get your alibi that way.
Whatever Nik is up to, I will have his help while I try to get pregnant, so I’ll find another way to deal with … whatever he’s doing on the side.”
Without another word, she walked out of the house, the door closing softly behind her.
Tara was mortified. She had no desire to sit around and bemoan her rough week with Sophie and The Clean Break drama now when she had a new crisis to handle.
Starting with searching her closet for that green dress.
Because the strange coincidence of that photo gave her the creepy feeling that someone had purposely impersonated her. Which was probably a farfetched idea … right?
Her counselor had warned her that the old case of dissociative amnesia could cause problems forming new memories.
But there was no way in hell Tara had been with Nikolai that day and did not recall it.
Not just because she trusted her own memory more than that, but also because she was not the sort of woman to stick a knife in a friend’s back by making a play for her husband.
A message she needed to get across to Luke Sideris as much as Mei. Why did it seem like her whole friend group was imploding?
She needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even confront Mei’s standoffish spouse herself. Because she wasn’t going to sit back and quietly accept another woman’s accusations of cheating with her husband and risk losing a whole set of friends.
The book club circle might have the occasional drama, but what friend group didn’t? The members were her neighbors and confidantes. It was one of the reasons she’d put off a difficult talk with Sophie for so long about their weird power dynamic at work. She hated to upset their friendship.
But enough was enough. Tara needed to start advocating for herself.
With Sophie, yes. With Luke. Also with whoever could help her clear up this misunderstanding about Mei’s husband.
She needed to do something soon before Jordyn, her recently rediscovered secret sister who lived eighteen hundred miles away, was the only person left standing in her corner.