“Yeah. Didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll catch a drink with Clyde.” He kissed her cheek. Splayed a hand on her upper back. “See you at dinner.”
Corey pulled away and Lola watched him go. She then turned to me, putting on a forced smile. The light in her eyes had faded, or maybe I’d just imagined it. Either way, she didn’t look very pleased at the moment.
* * *
Though I was glad I was making progress with my plan, it was awkward with Lola after the encounter with Corey. She did her head nods and passed her smiles, but they weren’t as genuine as before.
The shoot was over and Xena had gotten some great shots of the shirts, which Lola had praised her for, and when it was time for Xena and her team to pack up, I went back to the guest room with a smile riding my lips.
I needed Lola to trust me, and now was the perfect opportunity to dig a little deeper. I probably should have told her I had my breasts done beforehand to spare the awkwardness, but I liked the direction things had taken, and I was looking forward to watching it play out.
After I changed back into the casual jeans and blush blouse I’d worn to come over, I slipped into my sandals and walked out of the guest room.
Lola was standing in the sunroom, where I’d gotten my makeup done, with her cell phone in hand, scrolling through it.
As much as I loved watching her wallow a bit, while probably asking herself a million negative questions about her husband, I decided it was best to keep playing my part. Right now I was supposed to feel guilty. Embarrassed. Ashamed.
I needed to show it.
I lightly cleared my throat and said, “I think I’m going to head home. I forgot I have to be at work early tomorrow to do inventory.”
“Are you sure you can’t stick around? I still want to take you out for lunch,” Lola offered, facing me.
That surprised me. I thought of all people she’d shoo me off once she suspected foul play or mistrust. I still had to play my cards right. “Aw, Lola, that’s so nice of you, but you really don’t have to. The snacks you had today were great.”
“I insist, Ivy. Please.” She took a step forward and looked me in the eye. So maybe she wasn’t upset, or maybe she was taking me out so she could collect her thoughts and go about this the right way.
With a sigh, I agreed and followed her out of the mansion.
She walked to her Tesla and I climbed into the passenger seat, loving the feel of the luxurious, warm leather against my backside. The engine came to life and she drove through the gates.
“Ever been to Hatteras?” she asked me without taking her eyes off the road.
“No, I haven’t, but I’ve heard it’s very nice.” And way too expensive for my budget.
“Well, I’m glad I get to take you there first. It’s a beautiful place, with tables that have ocean views. You’ll love it.”
Okay. Why wasn’t she talking about the boob job thing and her husband? Why wasn’t she pissed? I looked at her through the corner of my eye every few seconds, waiting for her to tick, but she was calm. Her eyes were on the road, and she tapped her finger on the steering wheel as a song by Rihanna played.
When she pulled up to Hatteras, she handed her keys to a valet and I followed her inside. At a place like this you needed to make a reservation weeks in advance, but one look at Lola Maxwell and they had a table prepared on the air-conditioned deck overlooking the bay in less than two minutes.
“This view is amazing,” I said, hoping to keep up with her complacent mood.
“Isn’t it?” She picked up the drink menu. “Get whatever you want. After all your hard work today, you deserve it. I’ll order a good wine for us.” She gave me a sugary-sweet smile.
I smashed my lips together and looked over the menu. Everything was priced way too high for my budget.
When a waiter came to the table, Lola ordered an expensive bottle of chilled white wine. The server poured us glasses when he returned with the bottle and I sipped it, despite still feeling buzzed from the bottle of CÎROC and sangrias I’d had at her mansion.
Lola had had several drinks herself, and I took a mental note of that. The woman loved to drink, almost like it was a slight addiction, and I would use that to my advantage one day.
We placed our orders, and as soon as the waiter was gone, Lola sighed and said, “Okay, Ivy. Look.”
Oh, shit. Here it comes.
“About what you got done from Corey—I’m not bothered by it at all. In fact, I’ve sent my friends to Corey for things they’ve wanted done many times before. I’m sensing some tension from you and I don’t want you to think I’m upset by that at all.”
Wow. That was shocking. “Really? Oh, thank goodness.” Relief, relief, relief. I have to say, I was a little worried there, Marriott. Not too much, but a little. “I really thought you were upset with me about it. I—I know I should have told you beforehand, but it slipped my mind so many times, and I always get so shy around you.”
“No.” She laughed. “Why would I be upset about that? There’s nothing wrong with getting something like that done!”
“Well, mainly because I know he’s your husband, and having a woman you just met get a boob job from your spouse seems kind of... odd.”
“It was a little weird when he first started doing it,” she said, swirling her wine in her glass with her upper back pressed to the chair. “But I finally came to the realization that it’s his job, and it makes him great money. He doesn’t look at it the way I think he does, and that gives me peace of mind.”
Yeah, I bet it did. She was so full of shit, Marriott.
If my man was doing breast implants every week and then getting as many looks and feels as he wanted after the woman healed, it would annoy me. I’d wonder if he wanted to wrap his lips around their taut nipples during the checkups. Maybe that’s just me, though. I suppose rich people think differently.
“I went to Dr. Maxwell because I found him on Google,” I confessed. “He was so highly recommended, and he had stunning reviews. I wanted to be in good hands for the job. It wasn’t until I followed you on Instagram that I put two and two together. I didn’t even realize he was your husband.”
“That I can understand. There are many cosmetic surgeons in Miami who are so expensive but are complete trash.”
I laughed on cue.
“If you don’t mind me asking, though, what made you get them done?” She gestured to my chest with her glass in hand. “Was it just a spur-of-the-moment thing?”
I sat up in my chair and sank my teeth into my bottom lip. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I knew one day Corey would pop up and mention I was a client, and that Lola would be curious about it.
I had wanted her to ask this question, to feed her more of my story, get her to connect with me more. Granted, she wasn’t supposed to ask today, but things would move quicker this way. It was fine, Marriott. I had this all under control.
“Um . . . well, it’s kind of personal and kind of messed up. I probably shouldn’t get into it right now.”
“Oh—no, you don’t have to tell me, then. Don’t even worry.” Her voice was filled with compassion, and I knew I had her interest when she sat forward to look me in the eye.
“It’s just . . . when I think about it, I get really upset. Going to get them done was a big step for me, and a challenge, but talking about it is . . . it’s kind of hard sometimes.”
“Right. Of course.” This woman had no idea what to say, but the curiosity was burning deep in those hazel eyes of hers.
I sipped my wine slowly, letting the crisp taste burst on my tongue. “It’s just . . . well, do you remember when I told you about my ex?”
“And how he was a piece of shit? Yes, I do.” She put down her glass, her arms folded on the tabletop, fully alert.
“Well, he used to have this . . . fetish. He would um . . . put these metal clamps on my nipples and tug them really hard. I hated it, but I did it for him because I had nowhere else to stay, and he always thr
eatened to kick me out if I didn’t do what he wanted. Anyway, he tugged too hard one time, and one of my nipples actually ripped.”
“Oh sweet Jesus.” Lola closed her eyes briefly, like she could imagine the pain.
“It took a while for it to heal, but when it did, there was this ugly scar on my nipple and across my areola. When I got out of the relationship with him and decided I deserved better, the scar always reminded me of him, and I hated it. I hated my body and I hated myself. One day I got sick of feeling that way. I knew I could change the way they looked and get rid of the scar . . . so I looked up plastic surgeons. And that’s how I found Maxwell Aesthetics. I figured go big or go home, you know? So, I had the nipple slightly reconstructed and got implants as well, I guess to make a statement.” I shrugged.
“Wow, Ivy. I am so sorry you went through something like that.” She reached across the table and placed a caring hand on top of mine.
“It’s okay.” I sighed. “It’s the past and I’m learning to heal and move on from such a toxic, abusive relationship.”
“And I’m so glad you’ve moved on. Is that why you came to Miami? To get away from all that?”
“Partly. I didn’t want to live in Tampa anymore, that’s for sure. Everything there reminded me of him. I also saw Miami as a new opportunity for me. Start over. Rebuild.”
She nodded with understanding. “Well, you did the right thing. You’re a beautiful young lady and you deserve way better than what that asshole did to you.”
I nodded appreciatively. Telling her this would lead her to believe that I trusted her to keep my secret, and in return, she could trust me to keep any secrets she told me in the future.
It was only a matter of time before she started pouring them on the table to me, like she did all these fancy bottles of wine.
Not only that, but this piece of my sob story would make her want to keep me close. Lola loved sad women. Crazy but true. She loved women she could build up and make stronger.
She liked to treat women like me, Xena, and Keke as projects. A smile from one of us made her proud. Why do you think she created Ladies with Passion? She knew those mothers couldn’t afford shit, so she made their pregnant dreams come true by paying for their insurance or hospital bills, or by buying their diapers and formula when they couldn’t afford it.
Our food arrived shortly after that, and we ate while Lola talked about how great she thought the photos would turn out. While we ate, I couldn’t help glancing at my steak knife.
My mind wandered.
I always wondered how she’d react if I cut her. Just one little slice, preferably on her face. I could imagine her shocked expression, her jaw slack and her eyes round like saucers, once she realized her face was going to be scarred for the rest of her life. Not that she couldn’t afford to pay for a new face.
But nah. The face wouldn’t do it. It had to be her heart. Break that and not even all the money in the world would mend it.
After lunch Lola took me back to her mansion with brighter spirits, and I knew I’d won her back over. Before, she wanted to pretend the thing with Corey didn’t bother her, but I knew it did deep down. Now that she knew the reason, her confidence in her husband and me had been restored.
She gave me a hug as I got out of the Tesla. “Lunch was great today, Ivy. I can’t remember the last time I actually got to relax, eat, and drink, you know?”
“I should be thanking you. Lunch was amazing.”
She stepped sideways, like she wanted to let me go about my way, but didn’t all the same. “Okay, this might sound crazy, and maybe it’s a little too forward,” she chuckled, holding up a hand, “but what do you think about rooming with me at Passion Camp?”
I blinked quickly, pretending to be speechless for a moment. All a part of the act of course.
I’d heard from the other ladies during the volunteer meeting that Lola had her own cabin for Passion Camp. Vonyetta was so upset she wouldn’t be able to stay there this year—something about her back—which meant a bed was open. All the women were trying to figure out ways to get into Lola’s exclusive cabin.
“Wait, are you serious?” I squawked.
“I’m so serious! Passion Camp is always such an amazing time. We go on trail walks, have movie nights and spa days. My cabin has six beds, and usually Vonyetta stays with me, but she’s been having back problems and decided she’d drive home to sleep in her bed at nights. There’ll be an extra bed and I’d hate for the spot to go to waste. I’d love to have you there.”
“Wow—I mean, Lola! I don’t even know what to say to this! I would love to!”
“Yay! That’s so good to hear! You’ll have an amazing time with the other girls too. It’ll be a good way to meet new people and make new friends. We all love it.”
“Who all rooms with you?” I asked.
“Well, there’s Faith, Arabel, and Keke. Also Xena, but she’ll be all over the place taking pictures. Faith and Arabel are really good friends of mine and have husbands who sponsor the charity. And you already know Keke.”
Ugh. Fucking Keke. Of course that pathetic bitch would be sleeping in the CEO’s cabin. Wouldn’t be like her to miss it, would it?
“That sounds so fun! It’ll be like a sleepover!”
“Exactly! And we have the works, girl. There’ll be movies, snacks, wine, face masks, sugar scrubs—everything. I love Passion Camp. It really creates an escape for women, you know? We all get to get away from our daily lives and breathe a little bit.”
Yeah, I doubted that. With so many high-class women and pregnant women in one place, it meant increased amounts of estrogen, and women were catty, jealous creatures. They’d smile to your face and talk shit right behind your back, and the truth is, women just can’t help it, Marriott. It’s been imprinted in our DNA to be jealous or envious. Some women can control their emotions, but others—like me—can’t.
If I could control it, I wouldn’t have been standing right in front of Lola, pretending I wanted to be her very best friend, when really, I wanted to punch her in her damn veneers.
“Well, I’d love to room with you all. I just hope the other ladies won’t mind. Do you think they’ll feel like I don’t belong?” I asked with a hopeless smile.
“Nah-uh. Don’t you worry about that. You’re part of the LWP family now. I wish someone would make you feel like you don’t belong. And between you and me, I could have asked Olivia, but she snores way too loud.”
I huffed a laugh. “Right. I guess I’m just nervous. I’m so new to all this.”
“If you want, you can meet me here the day we leave and we can drive to the church together.”
“Sure, that would be nice.”
“Wonderful. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Ivy. And again, I loved lunch. We’ll have to do it again soon.”
Oh, we would. Trust and believe.
We hugged again, and Lola walked to her front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. I went to my car and climbed inside, starting it up and cranking the AC.
As I pulled out of Lola’s driveway, though, I noticed someone standing in front of one of the windows in the middle of the house on the upper level through my rearview mirror.
It was Georgia, and she was looking right at me. If I weren’t mistaken, her eyes were narrowed.
I didn’t like that woman, Marriott. I felt like she could see right through me, but she wasn’t about to throw off my plans. It was a good thing Lola didn’t seem like the type to listen to the help . . . then again, I knew she had Lola’s ear in a sense, seeing as Georgia was loyal to her.
Didn’t matter. I was going to keep my distance just enough to make sure her household manager could keep whatever suspicions she had of me low and out of the way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lola probably assumed we hadn’t seen each other in two weeks. The reality was, I saw her every single day.
I saw her in her office, during lunch meetings, and even when she drove home from lunch dates with her friend
s. I once spotted her at a Japanese restaurant with Corey, watching as they sipped expensive wine and shared a bowl of edamame, and I even saw her walking the beach with him in a flowy purple sundress one Sunday evening.
With my work schedule, it was tough to catch her, but I always managed to find a way. I was staked out across the street from her office during my lunch breaks most of the time, peering through the windows, munching on sandwiches or chips.
She was at her office more often now, probably because the date for Passion Camp was getting closer and she needed to know all the plans. Noah and Olivia were the duo keeping her charity afloat. She could fool everyone else by having them think she was the queen of ideas, but not me. Without Noah and Olivia, her charity would have been a lost cause.
The Passion Gala was happening in September, which was three months from now, and I knew they were planning for that as well.
I was hoping she’d invite me soon. It would have been lovely to have Lola buy me an expensive designer dress and heels specifically for that night. Hell, she’d probably invite me to get my hair and nails done too, just so she didn’t have to get ready for the event alone. I was very much looking forward to that. I just needed to stick with the program.
Even if she didn’t invite me, though, I would find a way in, either as a waitress or a part of the staff. The annual Passion Gala was special to her, and I had to work hard to get invited, I knew. She didn’t fully trust me just yet, but by the time Passion Camp was over, she would. She’d have to.
To prepare for camp, I went to Walmart the weekend before and bought new shorts, tank tops, and hiking shoes. I collected bug spray, tampons, and other essentials as well. Camp was in three days and I had to be prepared. My first mission was going to be to remove Keke from “bestie” status. The only question was how I could do that without too much backlash against me.
I needed to get closer to Keke to truly get her out of my way. I had to learn more about her so I could use it against her, but Keke wasn’t the type to trust easily, and something told me it had something to do with the father of her child. He’d left her to raise a baby alone and, apparently, she grew a backbone afterward and didn’t take any shit from anyone, per her arrogant Instagram posts.
The Perfect Ruin Page 8