She stood up and walked over to my desk. “Give me the phone.”
“Jan? This is Jordana Pierson. It seems you have some misinformation. We pay all of our bills on time.” She paused. Presumably Jan had something to say about that. “No, I have no comment and I never will. Please do your homework before you decide to badger us with baseless accusations. We have real work to get done. Have a lovely day.” Jordana hung up and stalked back to her desk. “I don’t have time for this crap. If she calls back, don’t answer.”
“Okay.” I nodded obediently, just as the phone rang yet again.
“Is that her?” Jordana was ready and eager to decapitate Jan.
“No, it’s Caroline. I’ve got it.” I picked up and in my sweetest voice said, “Hello, Caroline. It’s Olivia. How can I—” Before I could finish, she’d taken off on a tirade about how fabricated sketches of Tatiana’s gowns had been released, and that the rumor was she’d be wearing eight different styles between the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, the reception, and the after party, when the reality is that there are only five. She said that TMZ had also reported (accurately) that there will be four-hundred-and-twenty-five family and friends in attendance, half of whom the bride and groom can’t identify in a police lineup. “I understand that this is upsetting. Of course we’re sensitive to your desire for privacy.” Jordana rolled her eyes at me. “I believe Jordana is on the phone with TMZ right now.” I took a chance, and Jordana smiled. “I assure you, this wedding is our sole focus . . . we’re doing the best we can to keep things as discreet as possible . . . you’re on your way here? Okay then, we’ll see you—” The line went dead abruptly.
“That woman is batshit crazy,” Jordana said as soon as I’d hung up. “I’m not kidding. She may need to be institutionalized.”
“I hear you.”
“I mean, how insane is it that she’s trying to pretend she doesn’t want everyone in the Western world to know about this wedding? She’s thrilled that TMZ and all the others are broadcasting every last detail. I just wish she didn’t have to go through the motions of pretending that she’s up in arms. It’s a waste of everyone’s time, including hers.”
“She probably doesn’t have anything better to do.”
“You’re exactly right.” She nodded. “Anything else of major concern that I should know about?”
“Still no wedding band for William.”
“Is this some kind of sick joke? I don’t understand why he can’t just pick a platinum or gold band—he can choose sterling silver, for all I care—like every other groom on the face of the Earth. What’s his problem?”
“I’m not sure.” I was sure. But there was no way in hell I could tell Jordana that he was having second thoughts about marrying Tatiana. “I’m on it, though. You do not need to worry about it.”
“Thank you. Because if one more thing goes wrong I might hang myself from our chandelier.”
“Nothing else will go wrong,” I said, even though I was thinking the exact opposite. With less than three days to go, there is a very real possibility that the proverbial shit is about to hit the proverbial fan. Fortunately, Jordana is the one whose reputation will be tarnished, and I’ll remain completely spotless.
The thing is, while I still believe that Jordana deserves to pay for her mistakes, I do have the smallest amount of sympathy for her. Losing a parent is never easy. And I’m touched that she confided in me about it. I’m just trying not to let it set me off course, even though yesterday I thought, What if I don’t expose her at all? I’ve finally reached an abundant place in my life and my career, if you ignore my dwindling funds. I could just go on this way. Take my raise. Take my promotion. I’d have to manage my money better, but so what? I like Olivia a lot more than I liked Kerrie, anyway. Maybe that’s enough of a payback.
In other news, I haven’t spoken to William since he kissed me in the taxicab. He’s called and texted—it hasn’t been easy to avoid him—but I’ve had no choice. For one, I’m sure that it was just a drunken mistake, an intoxicated peck on the lips. How humiliating is that? Jordana cannot find out.
Don’t get me wrong, there have been many moments when I’ve wanted to run to William and divulge everything. But I haven’t. In part so I can see my plan through. And also because I really don’t want to hurt him. Plus, I know he doesn’t see me that way. He’d chalk it up to a silly crush, and I’m not sure my ego would survive that kind of rejection. Even though he’s out of my league, a girl can still dream. The dream is always better than the reality.
“They’re here!” Jordana called out suddenly, averting me from distraction. Then she got up, readjusted the two white leather coach chairs surrounding our long, rectangular glass coffee table, and waited for Caroline to burst through the door.
“I don’t think it’s the Doonans. They’re not due for another ten minutes.” Caroline is never late. But she’s rarely early, either. I walked toward the door and spotted a young woman I didn’t recognize, carrying two bulky garment bags, standing outside. “I’ll get it.” I let her in and relieved her of one of the bags.
“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully. “These are heavy.” I showed her where to hang them. “There’s one more. I’ll be right back.” She left and reappeared again. “So now you have the two bride’s dresses and the mother-of-the bride’s dress. Can you please sign here?”
“What do you mean the two bride’s dresses?” I pretended to be shocked, even though I wasn’t.
“Is that not right?” She stared at me blankly. She was probably an intern or a low-level gofer. Bright eyed. Bushy tailed. And dressed head to toe in “designer” clothing she’d bought off the sales rack at someplace like Marshall’s or T.J. Maxx. She’d touched up the scuff marks on her black leather pumps with a Sharpie.
“Not unless you’re hiding one of the gowns somewhere. The bride is supposed to have three. I confirmed with Ilana.” You tell one lie, it leads to another . . .
“Oh yeah, Ilana is no longer with the company.”
“I see.” Duh.
“What’s going on here?” Jordana rushed over and unzipped the garment bags to reveal dress number two and dress number three. “Where is the main gown?” Her tone was arctic. My hands were on my hips in a show of solidarity.
“I . . . I don’t know. I’m new. I . . . I just started yesterday,” she stammered. Poor little lamb.
“Well, you better get your boss on the phone.” The girl didn’t move. “Now!” Jordana barked.
“Yes, yes, of course . . . I’ll just be a minute.” She stepped outside again. For fear we might eat her alive, one scrawny limb at a time. It didn’t take long for her to return. “I’m so sorry, my boss said that there’s been a little mix-up, but that she’ll get to the bottom of it immediately.”
“Listen to me.” Jordana’s eyes were ferocious. “I need you to go back to that store and find the dress immediately. Got it?”
“I’ll try.” She took a step backward. I thought Jordana might lunge at her.
“You’ll try?” If it’s possible to actually see steam coming out of someone’s ears, I believe I did. Because that was when Tatiana and Caroline made their grand entrance and little lamb was hastily dismissed. All in the bat of an eyelash extension. I couldn’t wait to see how Jordana was going to scrape her way out of this hole.
Needless to say, neither Tatiana nor Caroline received the information well. But Caroline was the one who launched a full-scale tantrum, especially once she realized there was a second mistake. That her shrug was made of velvet, not duchess satin. Oops.
“Let’s speak privately,” Jordana suggested to Caroline, before physically guiding her into the back room, leaving Tatiana and me, somewhat awkwardly, alone.
“What?” She caught me staring at her. It’s so hard to envision her as William’s wife. Sure, they look the part. But to know William is to understand that they don’t make sense beyond aesthetics. It’s not that Tatiana is a bad person—remarkable given her genetics
—it’s just that I don’t think she’s William’s person. And the fact that she wouldn’t want to have kids with him is unthinkable.
“Nothing.” I shook my head.
“This must all seem outrageous to you.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know—this larger-than-life wedding and everything that comes with it. I’m sure you deal with it all the time, but it’s still over-the-top, don’t you think?”
“I think if it’s what you want, then it’s as it should be.” I hesitated. “Is it? What you want?” I asked brazenly. Strangely, she didn’t appear at all surprised by my question. She even waited a few seconds before answering.
“I guess so.” She shrugged. “Either way, it’s happening. My mother’s been planning it in her head since we started dating.”
“I believe that!” I smiled.
“I know it may not seem like it, but she means well. She just wants me to be happy. And she does love to throw a killer party.”
“I believe that too!” I laughed lightly. “Anyway, all that really matters is that you and William are madly in love.”
“Right.” She looked down at her feet.
“You are in love with William, right?” I couldn’t help myself.
“Of course I love William,” she answered, too quickly.
“But are you in love with him?” I nudged. “As in, are you prepared to spend the rest of your life with him?”
“Does anyone really know that?”
“I expect that they think they do.”
“Maybe,” she whispered. I’d struck a chord. “Or maybe not. Do you really believe every person who gets married is a hundred-percent sure?” In a way I felt sorry for her. In another way, I didn’t. She still has time to make things right. To tell William how she’s feeling, before it’s too late. Although, it doesn’t seem like she’s going to.
“I’d hope so.”
“Well, that’s not real life,” she stated plainly.
“You can still change your mind.” I kept my voice low. The last thing I need is for Jordana to overhear me trying to convince Tatiana not to marry William. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” I saw what I hoped was a transient flicker of understanding in her expression. But then it disappeared.
“Are you kidding?” She turned away from me. “There’s no way I could call off the wedding at this point. This wedding has to go on. Because if it doesn’t, then everything will fall apart. It’s not just William’s and my relationship that’s at stake here.” Our eyes met in the mirror.
I held my tongue. Fine, so Caroline and Arthur would lose a few hefty deposits, but money isn’t an issue for them. And perhaps they’d be embarrassed at having to explain the sudden split to their friends, even though their friends would probably delight in their misfortune. Does any of that really matter, though, if Tatiana and William aren’t happy together?
“This isn’t some run-of-the-mill social event. We’re in the spotlight. There are expectations. A lot of them.” I wondered what that must feel like. To have every move you make analyzed through a microscope lens. So much so that you’d go through with a marriage even if it didn’t feel right. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter if my feet are a little cold. Anyway, I’m sure it’s natural.”
Before I could respond, Jordana and Caroline reappeared.
“The misunderstanding has been resolved,” Jordana announced. “They’ve found the dress. It will be here in twenty minutes. And the shrug will be remade today, with another fitting tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Tatiana managed a faint smile.
“Let’s try on the other gowns while we wait.” Jordana turned to me. “Olivia, can you please grab them?”
“Sure.”
Tatiana’s indifference had instilled me with the courage to do what I should have done weeks ago. Suddenly, I felt as ready as I’d ever be. To tell William who I really am. And how I really feel about him.
37 KERRIE
By the time I left the office, I had three missed calls from Sara and one message saying she’d come up empty-handed. The Camp David account in the Caymans was legitimate. And she’d hit a dead end. She sounded agitated and impatient. We planned to meet at my apartment in two hours to brainstorm, because—ahead of that—I had something important to take care of.
I texted William to meet me in front of the Guggenheim as soon as possible. I figured I could walk there faster than he could take a cab, which would give me a few minutes to gather my thoughts and find an empty bench across the street, on the perimeter of Central Park.
I needed to get this over with quickly or it wasn’t going to happen at all.
As I waited for William to arrive, I thought some more about how drastically things have changed in the last two months. I uprooted my life by moving from a small town in Connecticut to the second largest city in the world—in case you’re wondering, the first largest is Tokyo. I left the guy I was with for three years. I found a new job. I partnered with Sara to execute a plan for revenge that would honor my nana. And I physically transformed myself into someone I like seeing in the mirror. It’s been exhausting and humbling at times, but it’ll all be worth it.
I tilted my face toward the sun as a flock of pigeons descended from their perch in the window of a Fifth Avenue building. New York City pigeons do not nest in trees. I watched them swoop onto the sidewalk and gather around a large chunk of blueberry muffin someone had dropped on the street. Only one smaller bird couldn’t break through the huddle. That used to be me, I thought. Always attempting to get what I deserved, but never succeeding. Those days will soon be over. I hope. There’s not much time left.
A few seconds later William appeared and sat down beside me. His shoulders were hunched. His skin was sallow. He was not the picture of a happy groom. In that moment, I knew I was doing the right thing.
“Hey.” I turned toward him. “How are you?”
He exhaled. “I’ve been better. How are you?”
“I’m not great either.” I cleared my throat. “I need to talk to you about something serious.”
“Sure, of course.” This got his attention, since it’s usually the other way around.
“There’s really no way to say this without just coming out with it.”
“You can tell me anything.” His expression was so earnest, I almost got up and left. “Go ahead.”
“I’m not exactly who you think I am.”
“What are you talking about?” His forehead wrinkled with concern.
“My name isn’t really Olivia Lewis.” I paused while he digested that first crumb of information. “Well, it is. I mean, it’s on my birth certificate that way. But that’s not the point.”
“You’re losing me here.”
“My whole life, since I was two, I’ve always gone by Kerrie O’Malley. Kerrie is my middle name, and O’Malley was my nana’s last name. She’s the one who raised me.”
“Right. In Palm Beach.”
“William, I’ve never even been to Palm Beach. I grew up in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Like I said, I’m not exactly who you think I am.”
“Wait, you’re confusing me.” He shook his head. “So, did your parents really die?”
“Yes, that’s the truth. As is everything else I’ve told you about myself.” Thank God for that.
“Are you running from the law or something? If so, I can help you.”
Of course he’d offer to help. “Thank you, but no, I’m not running from the law. I’m not running from anything. I moved here to seek revenge on someone who wronged me. And my family.”
“Who? Who would wrong you?”
“It’s not important.”
“So why are you telling me this now?” He pressed two fingers into his temples.
“Because you should know that part of my plan to seek revenge indirectly involved sabotaging your wedding.” Suddenly it sounded so much worse than the plan I’d justified in my head.
“I don�
�t understand. What does my wedding have to do with your revenge?”
“I can’t explain it to you. Not yet.”
“So, what? I’m just supposed to say, ‘Fine, no big deal?’ ”
“I don’t know.”
“Olivia, I’m going to need a little more information here. You’re freaking me out.” He placed his hand on my leg. “You can confide in me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I can’t tell you anything else.”
“This is insane.” He pulled his hand away. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” he snapped. “I thought I could trust you.”
“You can.”
“Olivia. You just told me that you’ve been lying to me about your name. Where you’re from. And that you’ve been trying to ruin my wedding in the name of seeking revenge on some mystery person. You sound a little crazy.”
“I can see that, but I promise you it’s not the case.” Though honestly, I’m not sure if that’s true anymore. What if he’s right? What if I am crazy?
“Can you at least give me more of an explanation? Like, why are you doing this? How did this person wrong you? I want to be here for you, but you’re not making it easy.”
“I know that. And I swear I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did anyway? I revealed things to you, Olivia. Private things. I told you stuff about my relationship with Tatiana that no one else knows. And obviously you took advantage of that. You used it for your own agenda.”
“I never used those things against you. It wasn’t like I knew you personally when this all started. I was only trying to get what I deserved.”
“Oh, that makes it so much better.” His tone was suddenly acerbic. He’s never spoken to me that way before. “You say you were only trying to get what you deserved, but it’s clear that you didn’t care if you screwed with a bunch of other people’s lives in the process. Maybe you should look into sainthood.”
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