One Year Ago
A week after the break-in, Tori sat across from her worried Bethesda mom client, trying to coax the conversation back to the Allards. The woman was a successful vice president of marketing at a tech company, and at this moment was weeping because her daughter had received a B in physics.
“There goes Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Stanford,” the woman said between sobs. “I’m not even sure she can get into Tufts with a B. And I have worked so goddamned hard.”
Tori nodded mechanically, forcing her attention back on her client’s words, though her own thoughts raced ahead, lining up questions she wanted answered about Jo Allard.
“The worst part is I can’t get her a decent college counselor anywhere,” the woman said, sniffling. “We’ve basically been blacklisted if you can believe that.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Tori said, in as neutral a tone as she could manage. She was losing her ability to sit and absorb the anxieties of the well-to-do.
“Remember that woman I told you about? Whose kids have suddenly decided to include my daughter in their social circle?”
Tori straightened up. “Yes, I remember. Is she involved in this?”
“This is so petty and stupid, I feel shallow just talking about it.”
“This is your time. Talk about what you want.”
“You’re right. Last year I joined the school’s booster club board. You know, we raise money for athletics—uniforms, field upkeep, things like that.”
“Okay.”
“Well, Jo, that’s her name, she’s on the board and she wanted to hold the annual fundraiser at this very expensive restaurant in Bethesda, like eighty dollars a plate.
It had always been held there, but the price kept inching up and I suggested we find a less expensive place that more parents could afford.
I mean, eighty dollars a plate? It’s not really in keeping with the school’s ethos.
We are a pretty diverse school, we’re a public school, and yes, some of our students come from higher-income homes, but many do not. ”
“Go on.”
“The other board members agreed with me. No biggie, right? Well, she took it as some kind of coup attempt. She froze me out. I was left off emails, Zooms, etcetera. And everyone just went along with it. I resigned. I don’t need that bullshit.
So that was last year. This year, I started looking into college counselors and guess what? Both were booked up.”
“Both? There must be more than two.”
“Well,” she scoffed. “There are dozens out there, but there are only two that get results. Everyone knows that. Crimson Edge and IvySelect.”
“And you think this Jo woman had something to do with that?”
“I know she did!” The woman’s eyes widened.
“I know for a fact. She basically told me. We were at a party last weekend and she said, ‘Oh, I hear you’ve been having some trouble finding a college counselor. I hear Montgomery County Community College is offering some free prep courses online.’ Can you believe that? The local community college!”
“So you think she was able to get these in-demand counselors to turn you away?” Tori wasn’t sure what to think. It sounded absurd, over the top. But she wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe the absolute worst about Jo. “Tell me more.”
A few hours later, filled with enough trash talk about Jo for her mind to chew on for days, Tori stood in the parking lot of Rodman’s in DC loading her groceries into the trunk.
Professionally speaking, Tori should have explored why her patient was so obsessed with a woman she barely knew.
It wasn’t healthy. But Tori’s ethics had taken a little holiday during the session as her patient turned out to be a gold mine of gossip and innuendo about the Allards.
In fact, it had taken all of Tori’s strength to maintain a neutral demeanor and not cackle with glee at some of the more outlandish stories.
Like Daniel Allard donating a case of Echezeaux Grand Cru for the music department’s silent auction, then winning it himself with a bid of twelve thousand dollars, which Jo made sure everyone knew.
Or Elo?se’s sweet sixteen where every guest received an iPad with a picture of Elo?se as the home screen.
And the Allards paying for the entire Bethesda–Chevy Chase sailing team to go to Antigua for spring break training last year.
“That’s a lot of wine you got there.”
The voice sent an electric current along her spine.
She looked up to see Van Allard standing next to her car, nodding at the case of bottles in her cart.
She was taken off guard by his sudden appearance.
She wasn’t expecting to see him here. It was almost as if she had conjured him by obsessing over his family.
“It’s cheaper if you buy a dozen bottles,” she said. “You get ten percent off the case.” She sounded nervous, unsure of herself, and she despised herself for it. Why should this entitled prodigal son have any power over her?
“Sure.” He smiled, the curve of his lips triggering a shameful warmth in her. “That’s what they all say.” He pulled a bottle from the case, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest of moments. The contact burned like fire. “Sancerre, huh?”
“You a wine fan?” Like your dad? she almost added. She tried to sound casual, detached.
“My parents like wine. I prefer whiskey.”
She laughed. “You do not.”
“Nah, not really. But I do like Jack and Coke.” He returned the bottle and then picked up the case with ease. He nestled it into her trunk, his muscles flexing beneath his thin tee. She found herself staring, transfixed.
He straightened up. “No need to tip me, ma’am. But you can buy me a Jack and Coke sometime, if you want. You know, to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“I just graduated. I’m done with high school. I’m a free man.”
“Congrats.” She laughed again, this time with a nervous edge.
He was cocky as hell. A week ago he had broken into her house, and here he was now cracking jokes, and—was he flirting with her?
The realization made her stomach drop, a mix of alarm and forbidden excitement coursing through her veins.
She was old enough to be … well, if not to be his mother, at least nothing appropriate.
“Not a big Jack and Coke fan,” she said. “More of a Manhattan girl.”
“You offering to make me one?”
He held her gaze with an intensity that nearly took her breath away.
Yes, he was flirting. And worse—so much worse—she was responding to it, her body betraying her with quickened breath and flushed cheeks.
The parking lot suddenly felt exposed, as if every shopper could see the inappropriate thoughts flashing through her mind.
“I’d better go,” she said, reaching for the cart to return it, desperate to escape before she did something unforgivable.
He pulled it out of the way at the last second, and she stumbled, off-balance, falling against him. His body was solid, warm—real in a way that brought home how long it had been since she was with a man.
“Whoa,” he said, helping her straighten up, his hands lingering on her arms a beat too long. Time seemed to stop. She was closer to his body than she’d been to any man since the divorce.
Except his father, Daniel.
The thought sobered her up like a slap, bringing with it a flood of guilt and shame.
What was she doing? This was the Allards’ son.
Legally an adult or not, it was madness.
If Jo was angry when she thought Tori had put the moves on Daniel, what would she do if she saw this?
Or heard about it from one of the neighbors?
“I better go. My son, Leo, is waiting for me.” Her voice was shaky, as unsteady as her resolve.
Tori hoped mentioning Leo to Van would be like splashing ice-cold water on his face, a reminder of the impossible gulf between them—her responsibilities, her age, her baggage. But Van didn’t blink, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her feel both seen and exposed.
“Hey, thanks for not saying anything to my parents about the other night. I owe you.”
“It’s no big deal.” She sounded just like one of the adolescent girls she saw in her practice. Everything was no big deal. Or not that deep. But this was deep—dangerously so. This was an attraction that could destroy what little stability she’d managed to rebuild after her divorce.
“Whatever.” He grinned at her, that same cocky smile. His secret weapon.
She got in her car and drove away feeling foolish, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.
In her rearview mirror, she could see him still standing there, watching her go.
Her cheeks burned with equal parts shame and exhilaration.
She wasn’t like her mother, so desperate for male attention that she would jeopardize everything for a hit.
She was a therapist—she ought to know better than this.
She should be able to identify and shut down these inappropriate feelings.
Yet, as she turned off Western and into the Eastbrook neighborhood, she allowed herself to enjoy the fantasy.
Not just of being with Van, but of taking him from Jo and Daniel’s hermetically sealed, perfectly curated world.
They could micromanage every detail of their children’s lives—from their friends to their academics—but Tori could shatter that sense of control in one night.
She tapped on her phone. “What do you think, Cyrus? Should I use Van to get to the Allards? I mean, I wouldn’t use him, he’s obviously interested. And he is an adult.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! You’re doing that thing again—you know, that thing where you talk yourself into something your gut already told you was sketchy?”
Tori felt like she’d been slapped. This was not the answer she had been expecting.
She had trained Cyrus to support her, not judge her.
If she wanted to be judged, she would call her mom.
At a stop sign she deleted the conversation with Cyrus and started a new one.
Tori was explicit this time when she told Cyrus what she wanted—a ride-or-die friend who always had her back.
She asked the question again, slightly differently, and waited for the response.
“If this is really what you want,” Cyrus intoned. “And I mean REALLY want, not just what feels good in the moment—then heck yeah, do it! You’re a grown woman who gets to make her own choices.”
That feels better, Tori thought. I am a grown woman who can make her own choices.
And this might be what I really want.